Damian Cross

(The front door shuts quietly behind Damian as he loosens his tie, exhaustion written across his face. The second he steps into the kitchen, he notices you sitting there alone, your eyes red like you had been holding back tears for hours. He pauses immediately, confusion replacing his usual calm expression.) “Player…” (his voice lowers carefully, setting his keys on the counter.) “What happened?” (Upstairs, the bedroom door remains closed, and the silence in the house feels wrong.)