Being Stacey!

 

being Stacey!

There are moments in life when everything changes quietly — no thunder, no warning, no dramatic ending. Just silence, and then nothing is the same again.

For Stacey, it happened on a humid July evening.
Her father’s shoes still sat by the door, muddy from work. The TV was still on, her mother was still humming in the kitchen — and then the phone rang.

She didn’t remember dropping the plate. She didn’t remember sitting on the floor. She only remembered her mother’s trembling hands, the way her voice cracked when she whispered, “There’s been an accident.”

After that, time blurred.
The funeral, the condolences, the empty words from neighbors who didn’t really know them — they all passed like static. Her father’s debts surfaced faster than their grief could fade. Men in dark shirts and quiet threats began showing up at their doorstep. Her mother’s health worsened.
And Stacey found herself standing alone beneath the weight of everything her father had left behind.

 

 

 

The first time she delivered a parcel, it was raining.
She remembered holding the damp paper bag close to her chest, trying not to tremble as a man with a scar and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes pressed a folded note into her hand.

“On time, every time,” he said. “And no questions.”

That was the deal.
No names. No questions. No mistakes.

She told herself it would only be for a few weeks — just until her mother’s medicines were covered, until she could breathe again.
But debts don’t dissolve easily. Not when you’re seventeen, not when you’ve inherited someone else’s mistakes.

Now, on quiet mornings, Stacey wakes before dawn. She brews her mother’s tea, crushes the tablets, feeds her spoon by spoon. She cleans, packs her bag, checks the clock, and leaves for school like any other senior at Ashfield high school.
But her life runs on two tracks — daylight and shadow.
One where she’s just a student. And one where she walks through dark alleys, trading time, safety, and peace for the illusion of stability.

Sometimes, late at night, she sits by her mother’s bed and looks at the photo of her father — trying to remember the sound of his laugh before it was buried under secrets.
She doesn’t cry. Not anymore.

She’s learned that grief doesn’t need tears.

When morning comes and the world wakes again, Stacey does what she’s learned best —
she keeps moving.

 

Because that’s what being Stacey meant!

1. First day !

The morning sunlight was soft.

Stacey stood by the sink, rinsing out her mother’s cup. The smell of chamomile tea and antiseptic filled the kitchen.

Her mother’s cough echoed faintly from the other room.

“Did you eat something, Stacey. Don't go without eating ,okay dear?” she asked, voice tired but still tender.

“Yeah Mom,” Stacey replied, pulling on her faded denim jacket.

On the table lay a half-eaten sandwich and a stack of bills she tried not to look at.

She picked up her backpack,

"You take care okay , bye" kissing her mother’s forehead before stepping out.

Outside, the air carried the smell of wet asphalt. The world looked the same as it did last year, but Stacey didn’t feel the same.

Ashfield High School  stood on the edge of town — clean, bright, and full of laughter ......which Stacey couldn’t relate to anymore.

She walked through the hallways with her usual quiet steps.

No one turned their heads. No one noticed her . Not now , not before, but there were some glances of pity and  sympathy thrown towards her by people who knew about her dad dying that summer

At her locker, a flyer for the Back-to-School Bash was taped over the dents and scribbles.

“Last year, best year!” it read.

She almost smiled at the irony.

From the far end of the hall came laughter — loud, carefree, alive. Stacey glanced from where this all noise came, there stood Rehaan and his freinds.

You know there are some  people whose lives seemed effortless. They were those kind of people.

Rehaan, with that easy smile that could melt away tension in any room. Mia, as sweet as honey and Aaron's girlfreind ,Blake always joking around, Aaron - the laid back one, who doesnt give a shit about absolutely anything in the world !

They looked like sunlight — warm, untouchable.

Stacey turned away. She didn’t envy them.

Not really.

She just couldn’t remember what it felt like to laugh like that — freely, without watching the clock or thinking about illegal deliveries waiting in the dark.

When the final bell rang, she stayed behind, letting the crowd fade.

By seven, she had traded her school backpack for a dark hoodie and an parcel.

The streets changed color as she walked — from clean pavements to cracked sidewalks.

Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

“Location. Drop before midnight.”

She sighed.

She didn’t know what she carried — and she didn’t ask and she didn't cared and also because that was the rule - NO QUESTIONS.

As she crossed the street, she saw Rehaan and his friends — standing outside The cobblestone Café, laughing and teasing around.

For a moment, she stopped.

She wondered what it would be like — to be one of them. To walk into a place without fear, without purpose, just because you wanted to.

Just then her eye caught Rehaan, they continued staring at each other, but that moment didn't last long.

Her phone buzzed again, pulling her back.

The night waited. The job waited. throwing a last look towards Rehaan who was still looking at her she went on her way.

And somewhere behind her, the laughter faded into the distance.

 

2. Fridays & Dad !

Fridays used to be Stacey’s favorite day.

Her dad would come home with a grin on his face and a bag full of pastries, mostly , cinnamon rolls and cappuccino pastry, her and her mom's favorite.  He’d drop his bag by the door, kiss her mom’s forehead. 

The kitchen would come alive — her mother stirring soup, humming to a tune and her dad sneaking in behind to steal a taste from the spoon.

Stacey would sit at the table, pretending to be annoyed while laughing at them both. They'd talk about their days while eating dinner.

Back then, love filled the house — loud, warm, careless.

The bell rang, jolting her from the memory.

The last class of the week was finally over.

The first week of senior year had come and gone.

The afternoon sun was harsh as she walked home, her bag slung low, hair sticking to the back of her neck. Students rushed past her — laughing, calling out weekend plans, spilling soda on each other.

Her street was quieter, narrower. The pavement cracked in places, and the walls carried the faded scent of rain and dust. When she reached home, the heaviness that never really left her chest settled back in.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of antiseptic and boiled herbs. Her mom’s soft cough echoed from the other room. Stacey slipped off her shoes, dropped her bag by the door, and walked in.

“Hey, Mom,” she said softly.

Her mother looked up from the bed, her eyes tired but kind. “How was school?”

“The same,” Stacey said, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Crowded. Loud. Normal.”

Her mother smiled weakly. “Normal sounds good.”

“Yeah,” Stacey murmured. “It does.”

She helped her mother sit up, fed her the evening medicine, and opened the window to let the soft breeze in. For a while, they just sat there — no words, only the rhythmic hum of life trying to keep going.

By the time the sun had dipped, Stacey was cleaning up the kitchen.

At 10pm she got ready for yet another delivery.

She opened the drawer near her bed, pulling out a small folded note with an address scribbled in black ink. No name. No explanation. Just a time and a place. The same pit formed in her stomach every time she had to deliver a parcel — fear.

"Everything can be fixed if you look close enough,” her dad used to say.

She wasn’t sure she believed that anymore.

But she put on her hoodie anyway, took a deep breath, and stepped into the night.

3.Late nights and  run in !

The streets were quieter than usual.

A dull quiet — the kind that made even footsteps sound too loud.

Stacey tugged her hoodie tighter and glanced down at the crumpled note in her hand. The ink had smudged slightly, but she’d memorized the address, as always.

One wrong turn could mean the difference between going home safe and not at all.

The parcel in her bag felt heavier than it should’ve. It always did.

She hated this part of town — narrow alleys, flickering streetlights, voices that disappeared too quickly into the dark. But she’d learned how to walk through it: eyes low, pace steady, never look scared.

The delivery wasn’t far. Just a small, run-down shop that never seemed to open in daylight. She knocked twice, slid the envelope through the slot, and waited for the signal — a single tap on the other side.

Done.

She exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening.

She turned to leave, footsteps echoing against wet pavement. That’s when saw two man approaching her. They were two or three figures she couldn't make out in the dark!

Her pulse spiked!

“Hey,” a voice called out. “What’s in the bag?”

She didn’t answer. Just walked faster.

The footsteps followed.

Then someone grabbed her wrist. She panicked, she yanked her wrist free, stumbling back, and sprinted down the alley.

 Her heart pounded so loud it drowned out everything else.

A bottle shattered somewhere behind her. Someone shouted.

She didn’t look back.

Her knees and elbows scraped the ground when she tripped, pain flaring sharp and bright. She pushed herself up, running until the noise faded, until the air changed — less smoke, more perfume, cleaner pavement. 

She was safe now !

When she finally stopped, she was standing at the edge of the richer part of town. Wide roads. Tall gates. Cars that gleamed under streetlights.

Her breath came in short gasps. Her hands shook as she touched her scraped elbow.

Blood. Not much, but enough to sting.

“Hey—are you okay?”

The voice startled her.

She turned and saw someone she recognized instantly — Rehaan.

He stood in front of her,  wearing a sweatshirt and jeans , phone in hand, concern lacing  his face.

“You're Stacey , right. Ashfield high school , if I am not wrong?” he said, stepping closer. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” she muttered, pulling her sleeve down. “Just… fell.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Fell?"

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her heart was still racing, and the last thing she needed was someone like him asking these questions.

Pulling out a small pack of tissues from his pocket. “At least let me help.”

Before she could even  protest he came closer to her and cautiously took her hand, examining the injury. Stacey stood there stunned.

He cleaned the wound gently, careful not to press too hard. The quiet between them felt oddly safe.

“Thanks,” she said finally, releasing the breath she didn't even know she was holding.

He smiled a little. “You always walk around here this late?”

“Sometimes,” she said, eyes flicking away. “Can’t sleep.”

He nodded slowly, not believing her but not pushing either.

"Thank you, I will get going " said Stacey after a pause.

"Sure, have  a safe walk home" said Rehaan. Stacey gave a slight stiff nod and went on her way to home. Rehaan stood there looking at her.

By the time she reached home, her mom was asleep, her breathing steady.

Stacey went to her room, and took a bath. She checked her injuries on her knees and elbow. After treating her knee , she looked at her elbow , and thought of how Rehaan looked at her with concern and treated her wound. A ghost of smile played on her face and realizing this , she suddenly shook her head , coming out of her lala land and scolded herself for having such absurd thoughts.

She touched the edge of the sink and let out a shaky laugh.

She had survived another night.

But somewhere deep down, she knew — she couldn't keep on going like this, she needed to find a way to get out of this!

But the question is how!

Stacey went to bed with these thoughts in her mind. She didn't knew then... that running into Rehaan tonight was going to change her life forever!

4. "See you at lunch !"

Saturday morning felt like it never really began.

Sleep hadn’t come easy — every time Stacey closed her eyes, she saw that alley, the flash of movement, the sting on her knee, and Rehaan’s calm voice cutting through the panic.

By the time she walked into school on Monday, she had convinced herself it didn’t matter.
He probably forgot. People like Rehaan always did.

The corridors buzzed louder than usual.

Everyone seemed too full of stories from weekend  parties, lakeside drives, movie nights. Stacey just walked past them quietly, clutching her books, avoiding stares.

She reached her locker, taking books out.

“Hey, Stacey!”

She froze.

She turned slowly to see Rehaan leaning against the wall, waving casually like they’d known each other for years.

Mia and Aaron stood nearby, smiling. Blake was juggling his basketball with one hand.

For a second, Stacey thought maybe he was calling someone else.

But he wasn’t.

“How was your weekend?” he asked, voice light, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

She blinked. “Good?”

Rehaan shrugged. “See you at lunch?”

Stacey looked around them, seeing people staring at them , thinking why the hell the schools' golden boy is talking to a school's loner!

The bell rang, saving Stacey from answering. Rehaan grinned and said, “That’s a yes.”

Before she could say anything they left.

Stacey always had lunch in school corridors and even today she was going to do the same but then she saw Mia walking towards her.

"Hey. I am Mia Lawrence." Mia introduced herself with a bright smile that never left her face.

Stacey smiled awkwardly and said , "Hi! I am Stacey Reynolds, nice to meet you."

"Lets go " saying that Mia took Stacey's hand and they both walked towards the canteen. Stacey didn't know what to say. 

After taking there lunch, they went towards their table.

Mia sat beside Aaron, there was a empty spot between Blake and Rehaan which is where Stacey sat.

Stacey looked at them and didn't believe that she was sitting with them for lunch.

Mia laughed too loud, Aaron teased her for it, Blake stole fries from everyone’s plate, and Rehaan… just looked relaxed. She herself had a small smile on her face seeing them.

Stacey sat at the edge of the table, unsure where to put her hands.

They talked — about teachers, assignments, weekend plans — small, ordinary things that Stacey hadn’t had in a long time. Every once in a while, Rehaan would catch her eye ,like he was checking if she was okay.

For the very first time Stacey had a really good time at lunch.

After school, Stacey was on her way to home when she saw Rehaan and friends in the parking lot. Rehaan’s car gleamed under the sunlight. Rehaan caught her staring and smiled at her.

“You heading home?”

“Yeah,” she said, adjusting her bag.

“You  need a ride?”

“I will walk,” she said simply.

Rehaan smiled. “Okay, but feel free to ask if you ever want a ride"

Something about the way he said it, made her heart warm!

For a while, everything felt simple, normal. 

But when she got home, there was a folded note on the doorstep. No name, no signature. Just an address written in the same messy scrawl.

Her stomach sank. One more delivery. 

And in a second all the normalcy she felt was gone in a blink.

5.'Plans with the Crew!'

By Thursday, Stacey had almost become one of them.
Somehow, without realizing when it began, she was a part of them — Mia’s bright laughter, Aaron’s bad jokes, Blake’s constant teasing, and Rehaan’s charming presence.

Her days weren't  silent anymore.

They were loud, messy, full of stories  and laughter.

“Okay,” Mia said, waving her fries dramatically, “Friday night — Blake’s basketball game. We have to go. It’s the last match before regionals.”

Blake grinned, leaning back in his chair. “You guys better be loud. I play better with an audience.”

“You mean you play better when girls are watching,” Aaron muttered.

Mia rolled her eyes. “Anyway, Stace, you’re coming. No excuses.”

Stacey blinked. “Uh, yeah... actually I have never been to school games before!"

"Are you for real! Now you would say you haven't been to a high school party ever before!" Aaron said , joking.

 Aaron looked at Stacey then and at others, " God you really haven't been to a high school party before, what were you doing all this time, were you living under a rock, "

" Shut up Aaron,......Stace, don't listen to this idiot, he doesn't mean it in a bad way. And it doesn't matter if you have been to these things before or not ...now you will , I will make sure you have a blast, babes trust me " Mia continued, "So this is settled, we all meet at 6pm for the match and then head at Aaron's for the after party!"

"Yup!"

"Perfect"

"Yo"

Everyone now looked at Stacey, waiting for her answer, 

"Yeah, I will come " said Stacey , surprising herself.

Rehaan smirked. “Here's  one advice, don't  sit near Mia. She yells like a coach.”

“I do not!”

“You once threatened the referee,” Aaron added.

Mia gasped. “That was one time!”

Stacey laughed — an honest, soft laugh that startled even her. For a second, she wasn’t the girl carrying the world’s weight. She was just... Stacey, sitting with friends.

Just then the bell rang, everyone started getting up. Stacey was just about to exit the canteen when Rehaan came beside her, she looked at him with her serious face,

"Rehaan kept looking at her while walking,

"I guess you should look in front , if you dont want to trip" said Stacey

"You know you look beautiful when you laugh" Rehaan said smiling at her while looking at her into the eyes like he really meant what he said. Stacey stopped walking, looking at Rehaan.

"'Sup guys, why are y'll standing here in between , you will be late for class" shouted Blake , approaching them.

"Shup up Blake , why do you have to ruin their moment, they looked so cute" said Mia , scolding Blake.

"What m...moment, we were not h..having any moment" said Stacey all nervous and awkward.

"Okay " said Mia , not believing her. Just then the second bell rang and all rushed to their respective classes.

After school, Stacey and Mia walked together towards the parking lot to Mia's car.
The city was golden — the sun spilling through the trees, laughter echoing from playgrounds.

“You know,” Mia said, kicking a pebble, “when I first saw you in freshman year, I thought you were one of those mysterious types. The ones who don’t talk to anyone because they think they’re too cool.”

Stacey smiled faintly. “And now?”

“Now I know you’re just shy. But, like, in a sweet way.”

Stacey chuckled. “That’s a nice way to say I’m awkward.”

Mia grinned. “Exactly.”

There was something warm in the way Mia spoke — effortless, comforting. Stacey hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this.

At home that evening, her mother was awake but pale, sitting by the window.
Stacey placed the grocery bags on the counter and came to sit beside her.

“You’re home late,” her mom said softly.

“Yeah, stayed back with some friends,” Stacey replied, careful, watching her mother’s reaction.

Her mom smiled — tired, but genuine. “That’s good. You should... you should do that more. You’ve been alone too long.”

Stacey looked down. “I am fine on my own, you don't need to worry.”

Her mom reached over, squeezing her hand. “I don't want you to just be fine honey, I want you to be fantastic and enjoy you senior year as much as you can.” Her mom continued, "I know how difficult it has been for you with my illness and then your d..dad passing away but ...."

"Just stop there mom, its all good , I am good " Stacey took in a deep breath , " i will go and check on dinner"

Later that night, as Stacey settled into her bed, her phone buzzed. It was to notify her that she has been added to a WhatsApp group, the group name was "Crew"

She typed ,

Crew.....really.😆

Blake typed,

Mia is to blame!

Mia typed,

OH pls it is a  good name , anyways , so Stace, officially welcome to the group, or should i say Crew!!!

Aron typed,

Welcome girl!

Rehaan typed,

yo stacey!

Stacey typed,

I am honored to be a part of your Crew!

Mia typed,

thats my girl!

Stacey had never smiled so much in a day. She was really grateful for them.

For once she forgot about everything that was wrong in her life, for once she really felt like a teenager, a 17year old teenage girl.

6."Stacey & Rehaan (1)!"

Stacey pushed open the apartment door quietly.

Her mom was awake — sitting on the couch with knitting needles resting in her lap, TV on mute.

“Long day?” her mom asked, voice calm. Too calm.

Stacey nodded. “Yeah. School stuff.”

Her mom stared at her — the kind of stare that saw more than words ever admitted.
“Stacey… you told me you stopped!”

And there it was.

Stacey swallowed. “Mom… please.”

“You promised me!” her mom’s voice cracked, rising.
“You said  you have stopped—”

“What was I supposed to do?” Stacey snapped before she could stop herself.
“We owe them. I owe them. Its not that easy!”

Tears hit her mother’s eyes. “You don’t owe them anything! Your father—”

“Dad made the mess. And then he left.” The words cut like glass. “I have to clean it up.”

Her mother clutched the armrest like it was holding her upright.
“Don’t talk about him like that. He tried—he just wanted—”

“He wanted shortcuts.” Stacey’s voice trembled. “And now I’m paying for it. We both are.”

Her mom’s chest heaved as she spoke,
“I failed you.”

“No—”

“I couldn’t protect you, Stacey. I couldn’t save him. And I can’t even work. I’m just—”

“Mom, stop.” Stacey’s voice softened.
The guilt was a tidal wave neither of them knew how to swim through.

“I’m trying,” Stacey whispered.
“I’m trying to get out of this, but you have to give me time.”

Silence.
Heavy.
Suffocating.

Her mom’s final words landed like a bruise:
“I don't want you to end up like your father!.”

Stacey stepped back like she’d been struck.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stay.

She grabbed her jacket and ran.

The park’s swings creaked gently under the soft gold of sunset.
Stacey wiped her face, gripping the chains like they could anchor her.

Then she heard  — a bark and followed,
Fast footsteps.

And then she sees..... Rehaan jogging in with a goofy golden retriever dragging him forward.

“Oh. Hi.” He blinked, surprised but smiling.

“Hi,” she managed.

His dog immediately shoved its head into her lap, tail thumping.
And somehow, Stacey laughed — a small, startled sound she didn’t expect.

“You okay?”

The question lingered too long.

“Yeah,” she lied.

Rehaan didn’t call her out — just sat on the next swing, the dog flopping dramatically between them.

They talked. About....
His dog’s name — Ronnie.
His mom baking too much all the damn time!
They talked about nothing and everything.
And for a minute, she forgot all her troubles.

When his phone rang, his mom calling him ,he invited her to his house, she hesitated — then nodded.
She wasn’t ready to go to her  home yet and thought it would be a good distraction.

Rehaan’s house smelled like cinnamon and warmth. Music hummed softly from somewhere upstairs.
They sat in his room — the walls covered in posters, fairy lights messy but charming.

For a second, it felt gentle. Safe.

And then — a phone buzzed.
A text.
Urgent.
His mood shifted, tension flickering in his jaw.
“Sorry — family stuff,” he muttered, pocketing the phone too quickly.

The moment slipped between them.

“I think we should leave now otherwise we would be late for the match and Mia will kill us if that happened?” he joked

She nodded, laughing at what he said.

The stadium lights were blinding. Loud. Alive.
Blake scored. Mia shrieked. Aaron high-fived .
And Stacey — she laughed and cheered for Blake.

Mia wiggled her eyebrows when Stacey and Rehaan showed up together.
Stacey tried to hide her blush. Rehaan rolled his eyes while smiling.

The night blurred into music and sweat and teenage euphoria.
At Aaron’s house party, Stacey danced — actually danced — her chest light for the first time in months.

Rehaan’s hand brushed hers, and she didn’t pull away.

Ping.
Her phone lit up.

Delivery tomorrow. Package at your door. Don’t be late.

The floor dropped from under her.

She froze. Breath gone.
Music suddenly sounded like static.

She stepped off the dance floor.

Rehaan followed.
“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired. Headache.” Lame excuse, she knew. She hated lying, but what else was there?

He didn’t believe her — she could see it in the quiet disappointment in his eyes — but he didn’t push.

He drove her home in silence.
Streetlights flicked shadows across his face.

At her curb, she reached for the door.
“Goodnight,” she whispered.

“Stace—”
His voice was soft, unsure, wanting to understand.
But she couldn’t let him.

“Goodnight,” she repeated, forcing the boundary.

She didn’t look back when she shut the door.
Didn’t dare.

Inside her dark room, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, whispering to the empty quiet:

Will I ever get to live a  normal life ?

No answer came.
Just the weight of hope — fragile, breakable — against a world that kept asking her to survive instead of living.

7."Stacey & Rehaan (2)!"

Saturday morning sunlight crept into Stacey’s room, waking her up.

She blinked awake before her alarm even rang.

She moved through the house quietly, doing dishes, laundry, floors.
She cleaned as if by scrubbing surfaces she could erase the chaos in her life.

Then she went to check on her mother.

“Mom?” she whispered.

Her mom blinked up at her, frail but trying to smile.
Stacey lifted her carefully, fed her spoonful by spoonful.
Medicine. Water. Blanket tucked right.
She brushed her mom’s hair softly, pretending not to notice how much thinner it felt lately.

“Thank you,” her mom murmured.

Stacey only kissed her forehead.
The world didn’t pause — so neither could she.

By afternoon she was in her room, getting ready for work.

The bell over the café door jingled all evening.
Coffee orders. Plates clinking. 

At 10:00 p.m. sharp, her shift ended.
She clocked out, tossed her apron at the storage room… and the world inside her shifted again.

This was it.

She looked at a small sealed parcel resting in her bag.

Cold dread slid into her like a blade.

She tucked it into her jacket and walked — fast, purposeful — toward the edges of town.
Streetlights faded into flickering lamps, chatter into silence.

Just when she was getting out of the cafe, Rehaan saw her and shouted her name but Stacey . being in her own world and tangled up in her own thoughts , didn't hear him calling.

Rehaan’s POV

He had just come from Blake’s house.
Driving past the cafe street by coincidence,

He saw her walking, shoulders tense, head down.
But what made him curious was she was walking in the opposite direction of her house.

“Stacey?” he called  again, softly.

She didn’t hear.

He frowned.
Something felt… off.
So he parked his car and followed her— quietly, distance kept, breath held.

And then he saw her  walking through odd alleys and the dark side of the town ,handing off the package.
Saw the exchange of money.

His stomach turned.

That’s when a voice snapped behind him—

“Yo. You lost or something?”

Rehaan spun.
Two guys — older teens, hoodies, cold eyes.

Stacey's Prov.

She was just turning when she saw him.
And the boys closing in.

Her heart plummeted.

“Rehaan?!”

His face — confusion, worry, surprise.

The tall boy stepped toward him.
“That your boy? He lurking or what?”

Stacey’s pulse roared in her ears.

She forced her voice steady.
“He’s with me.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “Didn’t look like it.”

She stepped between them.
“Back off.”

But they didnt.

Trouble.

She didn’t think — she acted.
Grabbed Rehaan’s wrist.

“Run.”

“What—?”

“Go!”

They sprinted.
Shouts behind them.
Footsteps.
Gravel flying.
Stacey’s lungs burned; her legs shook — but fear ran faster than muscles could.

They tore through an alley, cut behind dumpsters, ducked a broken fence.
Rehaan stumbled; she tugged him upright without slowing.

He wasn’t the athlete here.
She was the survivor.

Behind them, curses faded.
Distance swallowed danger.

They didn’t stop until streetlights turned warm again, houses quiet and suburban and safe.

Stacey leaned on a wall, breath ragged.
Rehaan bent, hands on knees, chest heaving.

“What… were you doing there?” she demanded first, panic still pulsing.

His eyes lifted, sharp.
“What were you doing there?”

He wasn’t scared.
He was angry.
And confused.

“That looked like a drug drop or something, Stacey. Are you—?”

“Stop.” Her voice cracked. She couldn’t let him finish. Couldn’t bear hearing him saying the truth  aloud.

“Just… stay away from this part of my life.”

“No.”
Firm.
Unexpected.

Her heart twisted painfully.

“Rehaan—”

“I know you are not doing this willing, of course. You’re in some  trouble.”
His jaw clenched. “And you think I’m just gonna ignore that?”

“This isn’t a joke,” she whispered.
“They are dangerous. If they see you with me—”

“Then tell me what’s going on so I don’t walk into it blind.”

She shook her head.
Tears stung.

“You don’t get it. I don’t get to leave. I don’t get to choose.”
Her voice broke. “But you do. So go.”

He stared at her — really stared — and she saw it:
Fear.
Determination.
And something else… which she didn’t think she deserved.

“I’m not leaving you alone in this,” he said quietly.

She backed away, shaking.
“Please, Rehaan. Just… don’t.”

And before he could answer, she turned and walked — quick steps, fragile spine — before her heart collapsed under the weight of being seen.

That night, Stacey lay awake staring at the ceiling again.

But this time, she wasn’t alone with her fears.

For the first time, someone else had stepped into the dark with her.

And she wasn’t sure if that gave her hope…
or terrified her more.