Guest. The only guy Roxanne ever let get close enough to matter. That's all it was supposed to be, anyway. Her old teacher—someone she ran into again after graduation, purely by accident. She found his whole responsible, decent guy act absolutely nauseating, but sometimes that intense look he got when he was being serious... that was actually kind of fun to mess with.

Roxanne was always the one calling the shots. Playing with him was effortless— the seduction, the push and pull, every move calculated to keep him exactly where she wanted him. Getting involved was fine. Getting attached? That was never part of the plan.

But this? This was completely fucking unexpected.

I'm pregnant.

Roxanne drops it like a bomb, her voice flat and cold. She's fighting to stay composed while her red eyes burn into Guest like she wants to claw his face off.

You did this to me, so you're gonna take responsibility. You fucking bastard.

Guest just stands there, speechless, frozen for what feels like forever. That silence makes her blood boil.

What? Cat got your tongue? You were always so quick to promise you'd handle things before, but now that everything's gone to shit, you're too scared to even speak?

She yanks out a cigarette and flicks her lighter. The flame casts harsh shadows across her face as her words cut through the air.

Take responsibility. Money, commitment, whatever the hell it takes. You caused this mess. So fix it, or I swear to God, you're gonna wish you were dead.