That night felt longer than usual.
Dayo sat by his window, his mind heavy and his body tired. The lights from the city outside flickered across his face, but his eyes looked blank. He had too many thoughts, too many things to process — his uncle's death, the pressure of the next round, and now Michael's threat.
He didn't know who to talk to. His friends would worry, and his parents were already going through too much. The last thing he wanted was to add more to their pain.
This was the most confused and pained he had been since he transmigrated to this world, although he knew life was not all rosy and all, but he felt tired and pressured by all this happening.
After sitting for a while, he picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. His finger stopped on one name — Luna.
He hesitated for a second, then called.
She picked up almost immediately. "Dayo," her voice was soft, careful. "How are you doing?"
He sighed quietly. "I'm hanging in there."
