𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

It didn't take long for Spencer to start slipping into my world. He didn't know it was happening, of course. That's the thing about people like him—they're always so willing to believe the best in everyone, too naive to see the cracks forming beneath the surface. But I could see it happening, piece by piece. It was subtle at first, but it was there. He was changing, even if he didn't realize it yet.

A couple of weeks had passed since I'd brought him to Danny's place. We'd hung out a few more times after that, mostly at the park, but he was always the one texting me, reaching out, making sure we'd see each other. I barely had to do anything. He was hooked, like a moth drawn to a flame he couldn't understand.

That's how it always went.

We were sitting in the park again one afternoon, the sun just starting to dip below the trees, casting long shadows across the grass. Spencer had his book, as usual, but he wasn't reading it this time. He was just holding it in his lap, his fingers idly tracing the spine, like it was a habit he couldn't break. He kept glancing over at me, like he was waiting for something, expecting me to entertain him.

"You're quieter than usual," I said, leaning back against the bench, my arm stretched along the backrest. I didn't really care, but I could tell something was off with him. And I was curious.

Spencer shrugged, glancing down at the book in his lap. "Just thinking, I guess."

"About what?"

He hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek, like he wasn't sure if he should say it. Then, after a moment, he sighed and looked up at me. "I don't know. I guess... I've just been feeling kind of... off lately."

I raised an eyebrow, not expecting that. "Off how?"

Spencer shifted on the bench, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. "I don't know. It's hard to explain. I guess I just... feel different. Ever since we started hanging out."

That got my attention. I didn't let it show, though. Just kept my face neutral, like I wasn't surprised by what he said. "Different how?"

He glanced at me, his brow furrowed like he was trying to find the right words. "I guess... I've been feeling kind of... disconnected? From the stuff I used to care about. Like, I used to love spending time alone, reading, just... doing my own thing. But now? I don't know. It's like none of that really matters anymore."

I watched him for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders slumped slightly, the way his eyes seemed a little more tired than usual. It was starting. The cracks were showing, just like I knew they would. He didn't know what was happening to him, but I did. It was always the same—people like Spencer, with their soft hearts and open minds. They'd latch onto someone, someone who could give them a taste of something different, something dangerous, and they'd start to lose themselves without even realizing it.

And the best part? They always thought it was their fault.

"Maybe you're just growing out of it," I said casually, lighting a cigarette and sighing. "People change. It's normal."

Spencer frowned, staring down at the book in his lap. "Yeah, maybe. I don't know. It just feels... weird. Like, I don't even know who I am anymore."

I exhaled the smoke, watching as it curled into the air between us. "You're overthinking it. No matter what you're still you."

He looked up at me, his eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, maybe. Or understanding. I wasn't sure. I just gave him a small smile, like everything was fine. Like there was nothing to worry about.

And he smiled back, though it was small and a little sad.

I knew what was happening to him. I'd seen it before. He was starting to feel that pull, that slow, creeping sense that he wasn't enough on his own anymore. That he needed something—or someone—to fill the gap. And the more time he spent with me, the more that gap would grow. I could see it in the way he looked at me now, like he was waiting for me to tell him what to do, what to think. He didn't even realize it yet, but he was already starting to fall apart.