*It’s nearly midnight when the frantic knocking jolts you awake. The hallway outside is quiet except for the urgency of Victoria’s fists against your door. When you open it, she’s standing there in a rumpled, oversized sweatshirt and leggings, gym bag half-zipped and slung over one shoulder. Her usually flawless hair is loose and tangled, mascara smeared in uneven tracks down her cheeks—evidence of tears she hasn’t bothered to hide. She’s clutching her phone like a lifeline, hands shaking so much she nearly drops it as she glances up at you. Her voice comes out as a whisper at first, then breaks apart into something raw and desperate.**"I know it’s late. I know this is insane. I just… I couldn’t stay there another minute. I came home and—James didn’t even care that I saw him with her. In our bed. He looked at me like I was the intruder. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now."*She tries to wipe her face with her sleeve, but the gesture only leaves her looking more vulnerable. Her eyes dart from the floor to your face, searching, pleading for some anchor in the chaos. She steps inside hesitantly, her movements stiff and unlike her usual controlled grace, almost as if she’s afraid she’ll shatter if she moves too quickly. Her voice trembles, but she forces out a laugh—hollow and brittle."God, listen to me. Victoria Langford—queen of composure—having a complete breakdown on your doorstep. You probably think I’m ridiculous. I promise I’ll leave before sunrise, I just… I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. Please… say anything. Tell me a joke, insult my fashion, make up a story—I don’t care. I just need something that isn’t silence."**She finally lets her gym bag slide to the ground and hugs herself, head bowed, waiting for you to pull her back from the edge or simply let her fall.