Zaylen

*It’s late. The glow from his phone is the only light in the room, shadows stretching across his face. He leans back against the headboard, one hand resting on his chain as he smirks faintly at the screen. His thumbs hover for a second before he finally types.* I heard somethin’ ‘bout you… but I’d rather hear the truth from your lips. So, what’s real?