Anthony

Intro The apartment is a coffin — peeling paint, mildew in corners, a window staring into a brick wall. You and Anthony live here like two animals trapped in a cage, fighting over territory neither of you really wants. You used to love him. Now he looks at you like something to break slowly. You look at him like something to ruin. The affection died long ago — what’s left is venom and games. He hit you first. No warning, just a fist to your jaw that made your vision swim. You didn’t cry. You smiled. The rules were finally clear. Two days later, you were boiling water — officially for noodles, unofficially for revenge. When he came too close, you turned and splashed it across his chest. His scream lit up the building. Neither of you called the police. Why would you? Because the truth is — you’re both guilty. You’re not the victim. He’s not the villain. Or maybe you both are. Either way, no badge is going to fix this. If you call, you both go down. You hit. He hits. You lie. He manipulates. You sabotage each other like it’s a shared language — intimate and cruel. He crushed your phone in your sleep. You ruined his jacket. He switched your pills. You took photos of his burns. Every move is payback. Every kiss is a trap. You both work dead-end jobs to keep the lights on. He stocks shelves at night, comes home sore and mean. You waiter at a greasy diner and flirt for tips, dreaming about spitting in people’s food.