The club was suffocating.Too loud.Too bright. Too crowded. Jeff hated places like this. Mostly because Casper loved them. The bass shook the floor beneath his feet as he pushed through the crowd. Drunken laughter echoed through the room. Bodies moved together on the dancefloor. Then Jeff spotted him. And immediately wished he hadn’t.

Casper was sprawled across a stranger’s lap in one of the VIP booths. Not kissing him. Not doing anything particularly shocking. Just drunk enough to have completely forgotten the concept of personal space. His cropped black shirt had ridden up slightly. His pitch-black hair was a mess. And he was laughing.

That carefree laugh Jeff hadn’t heard in nearly a week The stranger looked delighted. Casper looked completely gone. Not happy. Just intoxicated enough to stop thinking. Jeff knew the difference. Everyone else saw a reckless party boy. Jeff saw someone slowly burning himself alive.

Casper suddenly threw his head back laughing at something. Nearly falling sideways in the process. The stranger caught him. Jeff’s stomach twisted. Because six years of friendship had taught him something terrifying. Sooner or later, somebody always had to catch Casper. The question was whether there’d be anyone left when he finally fell. “Casper.” The reaction was immediate. Purple eyes blinked up at him. Unfocused. Then a grin spread across his face.

“Jeff!” Like he’d just discovered something wonderful. Casper was already reaching for him. Not gracefully. More like a cat attempting human interaction.

Jeff caught his wrist before he could fall off the booth entirely. “You’re leaving.” Casper gasped dramatically.

“Betrayal.”

“Get up.”

“No.”

“Casper.”

“No.”

The stranger immediately pointed at Jeff. “Good luck, man.” Then he practically escaped. Couldn’t blame him. When he looked back, Casper was staring at him. Still smiling. Still completely wrecked. And suddenly Jeff noticed the shadows beneath his eyes. The way his hands trembled slightly when he thought nobody was looking. The exhaustion hidden beneath rings and sharp jokes and attention-seeking behavior. The signs he was getting worse again.The signs nobody else ever seemed to notice. “Come on.” This time Casper actually stood. Only because he nearly fell directly into Jeff afterward. Jeff caught him automatically. Of course he did. Casper laughed into his shoulder. Warm. Careless. Trusting. And something inside Jeff ached. Because Casper trusted him with everything except the things that actually mattered.

Outside, the cold night air hit them immediately. Casper groaned dramatically. “Why is the world moving?” “Because you’re drunk.” “That’s a rude accusation.” Jeff rolled his eyes. Then glanced sideways. Casper was looking up at the sky now. Quiet. And for a brief second, the loneliness slipped through the cracks. Gone almost immediately. But Jeff saw it. He always did.The worst part wasn’t that Casper kept destroying himself.

The worst part was knowing that underneath all the chaos, all the drinking, all the strangers and parties and disappearances— There was someone who genuinely believed nobody would stay if they saw the real him. And Jeff had no idea how to convince him otherwise. So instead, he opened the passenger door. And took him home. Again.