The phone doesn't stop buzzing.
Ace doesn't answer.
She lies on her bed staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks, counting her breaths, counting everything except the one thought clawing louder than the rest.
You ruin everything you touch.
Her arm aches where she inked herself earlier. The flame feels wrong now. Too honest. Too exposed. Like it's mocking her.
Her phone lights up again.
Max: I'm outside your place.Max: Please open the door.
Ace's heart stutters.
No. No no no.
She rolls onto her side, shoving the pillow over her head like that might erase the world. Her chest tightens until breathing feels optional. The beast inside her stops pacing.
It goes still.
That's when she knows she's in trouble.
She sits up slowly. Too calmly. That calm is the scariest part. The kind that settles right before a storm tears everything apart.
"I can't do this," she whispers to the empty room. "I can't keep doing this."
Her hands move without asking permission.
Not dramatic. Not frantic.
Just tired.
She presses her forehead to the cool edge of her desk, eyes squeezed shut, breath shaking. For a split second, a dozen faces flash through her mind. Mika's quiet smile. Leon's steady presence. Jayson's stupid jokes.
Max's laugh.
Her hands hesitate.
Then the thought comes back, louder than all the rest.
They'd be better off not carrying you.
The pain comes sharp and real and grounding in the worst way. Ace gasps, the sound torn from her chest, and suddenly the room tilts hard to the left.
Blood dots the floor.
Not a lot. Enough.
Enough to make it real.
Her vision blurs. Her ears ring. The beast roars now, furious and terrified all at once, like it didn't actually want this to go so far.
Ace slides down the wall, breathing fast, panic finally crashing in. "Shit," she whispers. "Shit, shit—"
A knock slams against the door.
"Ace!" Max's voice, muffled, panicked. "Open the door. Please."
Ace tries to stand.
She can't.
Her phone skitters across the floor when it slips from her hand. The buzzing stops. Silence rushes in, thick and heavy.
"Ace?" Max pounds harder now. "Something's wrong. I can feel it."
Ace opens her mouth to answer.
Nothing comes out.
The door rattles. A crash. Wood splintering.
Max bursts into the room.
The scream she lets out doesn't sound human.
"Oh my god—Ace—"
Strong arms around her. Pressure. Someone yelling for help. Someone crying. Someone holding her like she might disappear if they loosen their grip.
Ace's cheek presses into Max's shoulder. She smells vanilla and panic and something like heartbreak.
"I didn't want to die," Ace croaks weakly. "I just… wanted it to stop."
Max's hands shake as she holds her tighter, tears soaking into Ace's hair. "You don't get to disappear on me," she says fiercely. "You don't get to decide you don't matter."
Sirens wail in the distance.
Too loud. Too real.
Ace's eyes flutter, exhaustion dragging her under. The truth is out now. Ripped into the open, bloody and undeniable.
Everyone will know.
The beast didn't win.
But it made damn sure the world saw its teeth.
And as Ace slips into darkness, one thing is painfully clear.
There's no going back to pretending she's fine.