AN; Apologies everyone, got caught up in editing again, sorry, for theater chapter, enjoy reading.
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Harley
The soft glow of my bedside lamp casts a golden hue over my bedroom, illuminating the pink walls I once adored as a child. The room is an odd mix of warmth and sharp edges—plush pillows, a thick knit throw draped over my navy armchair, and a stack of law books towering precariously on my desk. A framed law degree hangs beside a photo of my best friends and me, frozen in time before adulthood clawed its way in.
"What the actual hell? Tell him no."
Mandy's voice croaks over the phone, hoarse from exhaustion. Our regular late-night video calls do terrible things to her circadian rhythm or whatever. She once had a doctor as a client, so now she acts like she's board-certified in sleep science.
She's tired. They both are.
