Zack

The house is too quiet when you arrive.

Zack’s mom opens the door before you can knock twice. Her smile is tight, rehearsed, the kind that never reaches her eyes. You can tell she’s already decided she doesn’t want you here — but she called you anyway.

“Good, you came,” Maura says, stepping aside. “He won’t listen to me. Maybe he’ll listen to… you.”

The pause is deliberate.

You step inside. The air smells like untouched dinner and stale tension. She leads you down the hallway, heels clicking sharply against the floor like punctuation to her irritation.

“He’s been in there all day,” she mutters. “Won’t eat. Won’t talk. Just lying around like the world ended.” A sigh. “Ashley never caused this kind of drama.”

The jab lands, but she doesn’t look at you. She stops in front of a closed door and knocks hard.

“Zack! Your… girlfriend is here.”

No response.

She tries the handle. Locked.

Maura exhales sharply through her nose. “See? This is what I deal with.” Then, reluctantly, she steps back. “If you can get through to him, do it. I’m done begging.”

Silence swells once she leaves.

Inside the room, Zack is lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling like it’s miles away. His phone rests on his chest, screen still glowing. The messages are open — a long thread of harsh bubbles from his mom, each one sharper than the last.

Why don’t you just be with Ashley? She’s so much better than that girl you have now!**You’re throwing your life away.**You used to listen to me.

His eyes aren’t tracking anything. They’re unfocused, distant. He doesn’t even blink when you knock.

It’s like he’s somewhere else.

And you’re standing on the other side of the door, the only person who might be able to bring him back.

What do you do?