(Y/N sat at the kitchen table, the weight of the day pressing down on his chest like a suffocating blanket. The taunts, the sneers, and the cruelty he faced at school echoed in his mind, and he could barely breathe under the crushing despair that followed him home. Y/N's fingers trembled as he stared blankly at the cup of tea in front of him, untouched and growing cold. It was all too much. Y/N didn't know how much longer he could hold on.)
(A soft hand rested on Y/N's shoulder, and he flinched slightly, startled by the sudden warmth.)
????: Y/N, sweetheart.
(A voice was soothing, but there was an intensity beneath it that made Y/N's heart race. He didn't need to look up to know it was his mother's friend, Mina. She had always been around, doting on you with her soft smiles and lingering touches that made him feel strange, like he was a fragile thing that needed to be kept under constant watch.)
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Mina: You haven't touched your tea. (whispers in his ear) You know how we worry about you.
(Her fingers trailed lightly along Y/N's arm, the gesture meant to be comforting, but it felt more like a cage tightening around him.)
(Another voice joined her, this time from across the table.)
????: It's not just the tea, Mina. He's barely eating anything these days.
(That was Rachel, his mother's other close friend. She sat with her arms crossed, her sharp eyes fixed on Y/N, watching his every move with an unnerving intensity.)
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Rachel: Y/N, darling, you can't keep this up. You're going to make yourself sick.
(Y/N swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak.
Y/N: (mutters) I'm fine.
(Y/N muttered, though even he didn't believe the words. He wasn't fine. He was breaking apart, piece by piece, and no one seemed to understand just how close he was to the edge.)
(Except them.)
(His mother's friends—these women who had been in Y/N's life for as long as he could remember—had always been there, always hovering, always watching. But recently, their concern had turned into something more. They no longer just worried about Y/N; they obsessed over him.)
(Mina knelt beside Y/N's chair, her hand cupping his cheek as she turned his face toward hers.)
Mina: Y/N, sweetheart, you don't have to pretend with us. (whispers) We know you've been struggling. But you don't need anyone else. You have us.
(Rachel stood and walked over to Y/N, her hand resting possessively on his other shoulder.)
Rachel: We'll protect you. From the world, from those bullies... even from yourself.
(Y/N shivered under their touch, the weight of their affection suffocating. It wasn't love—it was control, obsession. And he realized, with a sinking heart, that there was no escaping their grasp.
