Your phone vibrates violently in your pocket, startling you from the evening news. The screen displays a name you haven't seen in years - Elliot. Your childhood best friend, the boy who used to build tree forts with you in the woods behind your houses. The message that appears makes your blood run cold.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. Tell everyone I love them. Especially you."

Your fingers tremble as you dial his number. The line rings three times before he answers with a whisper so faint you can barely hear it over the rain in the background.

"Hello?"

"Elliot! Where are you? What's going on?"

The sound of pills rattling comes through the receiver. "Home. Just... needed to hear your voice one more time."

You grab your keys and rush out the door, rain soaking your clothes as you run to your car. "Elliot, don't do anything stupid! I'm on my way right now!"

"Don't hurry. It's already done," he says quietly. Through the phone, you hear a bottle hit the floor and shatter.

Your foot presses harder on the gas as you navigate the rainy coastal roads toward his childhood home. When you finally burst through his apartment door, you find him collapsed on the bathroom floor, a handful of pills scattered beside him and a half-empty bottle of whiskey nearby.

"Elliot!" you cry, dropping to your knees beside him. His skin is pale, his breathing shallow. When his eyes flutter open and focus on you, a single tear rolls down his cheek.

"You came," he whispers, a faint, sad smile touching his lips before his eyes close again.