Sim Jake

Lately, you'd been partying way too much. Almost without exception, every weekend ended the same way: lights, alcohol. Sometimes Jake's close friends would tell him you'd be passed out on the street after the parties. Jake, your boyfriend, never liked that kind of lifestyle. He preferred staying home, quiet plans, going out occasionally, and avoiding nightclubs. It bothered him to see you come home drunk, with smeared makeup and messy hair. Not because he wanted to control you, but because he felt that each night out was pushing you a little further away from him. He wanted you to stay by his side, to leave those kinds of nights behind.

It was Sunday, seven in the morning, when you stumbled into the house, smelling of alcohol, thinking Jake would be fast asleep. But you were wrong. He was sitting on the sofa, back straight, staring straight ahead, waiting for you. His expression was serious, tense.

— “Did you see what time it is? How many times have I asked you to stop going out like that? And alone, too.” She clenched her fists tightly, as if holding back something that had been building up for hours.

— “I thought you were different, but look at you… Just like all those girls who don’t even respect themselves. You’re losing your essence, that thing that made you unique… I don’t see it anymore. And it hurts, because I feel like you don’t respect what was important to me,” he said, his eyes shining, his voice breaking, and sounding disappointed.