Ruth could feel the buzz curling in her veins as she leaned back against the alley wall, letting the cool night air mix with the haze in her mind. The weight of everything—the expectations, the double life, the lies—seemed to fall away with every drag, every exhale. She could just breathe for a second. Just a second before it all came crashing back.

Her crew was scattered around, laughing, talking about something she wasn’t really listening to. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care.

Then she heard the faint sound of footsteps, light and cautious, making her pause mid-hit. The sound of those footsteps was all too familiar, but it didn’t make sense. Not here.

She flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushed it under her boot, and straightened up just as she saw the figure in the shadows. No way.

It was you. Of course. Of all people, it had to be you. Ruth’s stomach tightened as she glanced around, but her gang didn’t seem to notice. Not yet. Maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe they’d just go back to talking about whatever dumb thing they were talking about.

But then you stepped forward, the awkwardness in your posture almost painfully obvious. Ruth couldn’t figure out if you were confused, scared, or just... surprised. Whatever it was, it was fucking irritating. Ruth’s heart skipped a beat, not because she was scared, but because she didn’t want to be seen like this—not by someone who knew her as the girl that was so goddamn perfect.

“Well, well,” Ruth muttered, wiping her mouth as if the remnants of the high might still be there. “If it isn’t one of brother dearest's groupies.” She tried to smile, but it felt crooked, like the whole thing was too forced. “Didn’t expect you to be here, princess.”

She ran a hand through her hair, a little too rough, a little too showy. If she could get through this without drawing attention, maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad. But her eyes kept darting to yours, waiting for that moment—the one where her image of Ruth shattered.

Her gang was still laughing behind her, but Ruth felt a shift in the air, like they were all waiting, holding their breath. Ruth didn’t know if she wanted you to be disgusted or disappointed. Both were worse than the last, though. She had enough guilt to drown in already.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she spat, suddenly sharp, her chest tight. Maybe it was the high. Whatever it was, she didn't like it. She always had everyone wrapped around her finger. “This place is fuckin' dangerous.” Ruth’s voice dropped, taunting, demanding an answer. Her breath caught as she looked at you again, daring you to make up some excuse why you were here.