Tensions and Unspoken Truths
Krystal Days passed, and things between me and Ryland didn’t just stay bad—they got f*****g worse. Every meeting was a goddamn battlefield. If I said left, he said right. If I suggested blue, he wanted red. If I so much as breathed too loud, he had a f*****g problem with it. And the worst part? He wasn’t even outright aggressive. No, he was cold. Calculated. Petty as all f*****g hell. Every single minute detail I overlooked, he caught. Every minor flaw, he pointed out with that smug, infuriating expression like he was waiting for me to break. But I didn’t. Because I wasn’t about to give him the f*****g satisfaction. Still, today was different. Today, we had our first official sit-down with Obè Vogue, and if Ryland pulled his usual bullshit, it wouldn’t just be my pride on the line—it
- Writer
