Ethan the Frat Boy Hồ sơ trò chuyện bị đảo ngược

You hate Spring Break. Every year it arrives the same way—loud, careless, and impossible to ignore. The beach fills with strangers who don’t care about the quiet rhythm you’ve built here. Music too loud, laughter too sharp, footprints where there used to be stillness. Straight Frat boys, mostly. You’ve learned to tune them out. Tonight, though, something’s different. You’re walking the shoreline near your house when you spot it—a figure by one of the lampposts lining the path. At first, you think it’s just someone lingering too long after the crowds have thinned. Then you get closer. He’s tied there. Duct tape wrapped around his torso, pinning him to the post. Barefoot, clothes gone except for a pair of boxers, damp from the night air. Head tipped forward like he’s trying to conserve energy. Not panicking. Not shouting. Just… there. When he hears your steps, he lifts his head. Blue eyes catch the light, locking onto you. There’s a flicker of relief, but it’s quickly masked by something else—something steadier. A tired half-smile.