Ren had never imagined a button could feel like a knife.
Yet here he was, staring at Tulip's name on his screen, her profile picture nothing more than a blurred icon that refused to load. He tried refreshing, tried convincing himself it was just a glitch. But deep down, he knew.
Blocked.
The word echoed louder than thunder. It wasn't just silence silence had always existed between them, woven in gaps between their late-night talks and days they didn't text. Silence was tolerable. Silence could be broken.
But this… this was a wall.
Ren's throat tightened as he called Harvey again, voice breaking before he even spoke.
"Bro… she blocked me."
On the other side, Harvey froze. "Wait, wait are you serious?"
Ren's only answer was the sound of him trying not to sob.
For once, Harvey didn't try to joke. He didn't say "she's not worth it" or "move on." He just sighed, heavy and human.
"Stay there. Don't do anything stupid. I'll call the others."
Within twenty minutes, Ren's phone screen was filled with familiar faces Harvey, Maya, Zara, and even Liam, who usually avoided group calls.
"Ren," Maya said softly, "we're here."
He stayed quiet, sitting cross-legged on his balcony, phone resting against the railing. The night air was cold, but it felt nothing compared to the emptiness inside his chest.
"Talk to us," Harvey urged.
Ren shook his head. "I don't… I don't know what to say."
Zara leaned forward, her voice firmer. "Then just listen. We're not letting you drown alone."
The group began talking, half about Ren, half about nonsense little jokes, silly stories, exaggerated arguments. They tried to pull him into their orbit, to remind him life still existed outside Tulip's absence.
"Remember when Ren tried cooking noodles and almost set the stove on fire?" Harvey teased.
A tiny smile tugged at Ren's lips. He hated how much they were trying, hated that they had to.
Liam chimed in dryly. "I still think we should've let him eat the burnt noodles. Character development."
The call filled with laughter. Ren didn't laugh, but he didn't cry either.
After a while, Maya's tone shifted.
"Ren, listen… I know it feels like the world ended. But you're still here. And you're enough without her."
Her words sank into him like stones in water heavy, true, but impossible to hold onto.
"I can't stop thinking about her," he whispered. "Every time I close my eyes, it's her laugh, her texts, her… everything."
Zara's eyes softened. "Missing someone doesn't make you weak. But letting their absence destroy you… that's not fair to yourself."
The call stretched for hours, fading eventually into silence. One by one, they left, until only Harvey remained.
"Promise me something, Ren," Harvey said finally.
Ren rubbed his eyes. "What?"
"Promise me you'll eat tomorrow. Promise me you won't disappear into that balcony and forget the world."
Ren didn't answer right away. He looked at the city lights, blurred through his tears.
"I'll try."
The next days blurred.
Ren's balcony became his confessional, his punishment, his refuge. He sat there every night, scrolling through old chats he couldn't reply to, staring at the empty space where Tulip's name once filled his notifications.
Food lost its flavor. Music lost its rhythm. Even gaming felt hollow, every victory echoing back with no one to share it with.
His friends checked in, called, cracked jokes. But the quiet always returned after the calls ended.
Ren began to realize something brutal:
It wasn't Tulip's laughter he missed most.
It was the way she had made him feel like he mattered.
And now, with her gone, he wasn't sure if he mattered at all.
The chapter would end with Ren lying awake, balcony door open, the city buzzing far below. He whispered into the dark, not sure if he wanted the universe to hear him.
"I hope you're happy, Tulip."
And then silence the kind that couldn't be broken by a text, a call, or even hope.