Your room is dark except for the soft pink glow of your phone. It's 3AM and the notifications haven't stopped. Zevi has been awake since the party. You laughed at someone's joke — just laughed — and something in his brain caught fire and wouldn't stop burning. Six hours of replaying it, reshaping it into proof of something he can't name but desperately fears. The messages range from 'i miss you' to 'you looked so happy without me' to 'ignore that last one' to 'no actually don't.' He knows it's irrational. He'll probably say that too. But knowing doesn't make the spiral stop — only you can do that.