inure

Isaiah's pov:

They never talk about how lonely it gets.i was young I didn't know what I was getting myself into it wasn't even bout sex it was the feeling you felt before like you were on top of the world.the whole world stops gets quieter and for a moment it's like all your problems have disappeared.then it's over and your left looking into the mirror with disgust crawling gn all over your body.Wells that's me Isaiah . The fuck up. The one that was always making mistakes. The prototype. Yk what happens with prototypes right ? They get tested, pushed until they break, and then someone makes a better version.

That's my brother. He's the upgrade better grades, better choices, better everything. And me? I'm just what they had to get through to get to him.don't get it twisted. I'm not saying I hate him. I just... hate the reminder. That every time he wins, it's proof I failed first.And that's the thing about life it doesn't stop kicking you when you're down. It keeps finding new ways to fuck you over, even when you think you've hit rock bottom.

So yeah.

Most mornings start like this.

Hungover.

In a room that isn't mine.

Next to someone whose name I'm still trying to remember.

This morning it was a girl lying across my chest while sunlight tried to break through the curtains like it had something personal against me.

My head felt like someone was playing drums inside my skull.

And somewhere on the floor, Damir was groaning like a wounded animal.

Which meant last night was probably a success.

I opened my eyes slowly.

The room looked like a crime scene for bad decisions. Empty cans on the floor. Glitter somehow stuck to the wall. Someone's shoe on the ceiling fan. Don't ask me how.

The girl shifted on top of me.

Her hair was all over the place, makeup smudged like she'd survived a hurricane.

I stared at the ceiling for a second, trying to remember her name.

Aaliyah.

No.

Stephanie.

No... wait.

Ella.

Yeah. That sounded right.

I nudged her shoulder.

"I got school," I muttered.

She opened one eye and smiled like she knew something I didn't.

"I want you to make me feel like how I felt last night."

I laughed a little.

Is she deaf or something I'm pretty sure I said it loud and clear that I had school .

Before I could say anything else, something groaned from the floor.

Damir.

He's my best friend I guess he's useless tho so he's not really important.

He was lying face down, half under a chair, making noises that sounded medically concerning.

I nudged his leg with my foot.

"Wake up."

Nothing.

I kicked him harder.

He rolled onto his back, squinting at the ceiling like it personally offended him.

"Why did you kick me ," he muttered.

"Go cry for the kids in Africa ," I said.

He groaned again.

Ella started kissing my neck like we weren't on a time limit.

I closed my eyes for a second.

"Fine," I said. "One more time."

And right as I leaned in—

The door exploded open.

"ELLA!"

A man's voice. Loud. Furious. The kind of angry that comes with a baseball bat.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

Damir shot upright.

Our eyes met.

No discussion needed.

We both moved at the same time.

Window.

Cold air hit my face as we climbed out onto the street like two criminals escaping a bad movie.

Behind us her dad was yelling things I'm pretty sure weren't legally classified as parenting anymore.

We ran.

Down the street.

Around the corner.

Into an alley that smelled like old fries and bad decisions.

We finally stopped, both bent over trying to breathe.

Damir clutched his stomach.

"Worth it?" he asked between breaths.

I thought about it.

"Probably."

He nodded like that was the most reasonable answer in the world.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out.

Idris.

Meet at the station. Now.

No explanation.

Which usually meant something had gone very wrong.

Damir looked at me.

"Who was that?"

I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

"Come on."

"What about school?"

I started walking.

"Stop being a sook and hurry up."

He sighed and followed behind me, still complaining under his breath.

The city was already awake. Cars. People. The smell of fast food and gasoline floating through the air.

Normal morning stuff.

But something about that text sat weird in my stomach.

Idris didn't text like that unless something was happening.

Something bad.

We reached the train station ten minutes later.

It was busy.

People everywhere.

Then I saw him.

Standing near the ticket machines.

Damir saw him too.

"Bro..." he said slowly.

Idris looked up at us.

There was blood on his hoodie.

And he didn't look surprised to see us.

He just said,

"We've got a problem."