It never starts with the ones who deserve it.
The loudest always walk away clean.
But the quiet ones...the ones who were just beginning...they vanish first.
A slow-burning story.
A lover at the edge of recognition.
Two characters circling a shared truth they hadn’t dared speak yet.
Then someone fires the first shot.
Accusation. Call-out.
Reputation warfare in the name of pride.
And the ones holding hands in the background?
They let go.
Not because they want to...
but because everything suddenly feels too dangerous to touch.
You were never the target.
You just got caught in the blast radius.
I watched a maybe turn into a silence.
A soft promise replaced with absence.
All because someone else needed a win.
And no one writes about the casualties.
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