Andrew parked his car in front of his house. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the two-story house nestled in one of the city's most exclusive neighborhoods. 

The front lawn was pristine, the grass neatly manicured.

A couple of other luxury cars sat parked in the garage. From the outside, the house always looked like the picture-perfect image of a flawless life.

Andrew shut his car door and walked inside. He had barely taken a few steps through the door when his mother’s voice rang out from the living room.

"Andrew! Why are you just getting home? Where did you stop by?"

Andrew let out a heavy sigh. "Nowhere, Mom," he replied, his voice laced with boredom.

"Don't take that tone with me. I am asking you a simple question," his mother snapped, her voice rising.

Andrew kicked off his shoes and chose not to reply. He placed them on the rack and reluctantly headed into the living room.

His father was sitting quietly next to his mother, reading the newspaper and sipping from a cup of coffee. The middle-aged man didn't even bother to look up as Andrew approached.

"How did your Statistics assignment turn out last week?" his father asked flatly.

Andrew tossed his bag onto the sofa, then slumped back into the cushions. "I got a good grade."

"What was it?" his father pressed.

"An eighty-nine."

His father finally looked up, fixing Andrew with a cold, piercing stare. "You should have done better than that."

Andrew closed his eyes for a brief second. He held his breath to keep his temper in check. To his parents, his entire worth was reduced to numbers, achievements, and comparisons to other people's kids.

"You know, Mr. Harrison's son got a perfect score on his Statistics assignment last week," his father continued, drawing the inevitable comparison.

"Good for him," Andrew muttered curtly.

"You should learn from him and push yourself harder."

Andrew remained silent, having no desire to argue. His mother immediately chimed in.

"Don't be so dismissive with your father, Andrew. He only wants what’s best for your future."

Andrew let out a hollow smile. He had heard that line so many times it made him sick to his stomach. "I'm going to my room."

He turned on his heel and headed straight up the stairs to his second-floor bedroom.

"Andrew!" his mother called out again from downstairs.

Andrew stopped but didn't turn around. "What now, Mom?"

"We have a big family dinner next week. Don't go making up any ridiculous excuses to skip it."

Andrew didn't reply. He marched straight into his room and shut the door behind him with a sharp thud.

He threw himself onto the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Nathan’s face and his parting words back in the classroom flashed through his mind.

Andrew clicked his tongue in annoyance. He shook his head hard to banish the thought.

"Bullshit," he cursed under his breath.

His phone vibrated against his thigh. He pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked the screen. It was a text from Alex.

"Andrew. Huge party at Kevin’s house tonight. You gotta come."

Andrew stared at the message for a few seconds. A moment later, another text from Alex popped up.

"Don't tell me you're turning in early tonight. We're waiting for you, go get ready."

A faint smile crossed Andrew's face. After a suffocating day, at least there was something interesting to do instead of rotting away in this boring house.

"Fine. I'll be there," Andrew typed back.

Alex replied almost instantly. "Don't be late."

Andrew didn't text back. He tossed his phone onto the mattress and closed his eyes to rest for a bit.

At exactly seven in the evening, Andrew woke up. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, then quickly washed his face and changed his clothes.

He quietly cracked his bedroom window open, climbed out onto the roof of the side porch, and slid down to the ground.

Hurrying over to his car, he fired up the engine and immediately hit the gas, speeding away into the night.

---

The thumping bass of blasting music greeted Andrew the moment he pulled up to his friend’s house. He walked inside to find the place already packed to the brim.

The party was in full swing. People were losing themselves to the rhythm on the makeshift dance floor, while others huddled together, talking and laughing loudly.

Alex cut through the crowd, making his way over to him with two bottles of beer in hand.

"You made it," Alex said, handing a bottle over to Andrew.

Andrew took it. "Thanks."

Alex knit his brows, studying Andrew's face intently. "You look a little off tonight, man."

Andrew took a swig of his beer before answering. "What do you mean, Alex?"

"Usually, you're the loudest guy in the room the second you walk into a party," Alex noted.

Andrew let out a dry laugh. "Just not feeling it tonight."

"Well, whatever floats your boat. Just try to enjoy the party."

As the night wore on, the atmosphere inside the house grew wilder. Alex was busy dancing with a group of friends, leaving Andrew sitting alone near the back. He had already downed several bottles of beer.

His mind drifted back to Nathan, which inevitably dragged up the dark memories of his own past.

Back in high school, Andrew had been exactly where Nathan was now. The kid who sat alone, the kid who was always the butt of everyone's jokes.

Andrew gripped the beer bottle in his hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. He loathed remembering those miserable days because they reminded him of just how weak he used to be.

"You doing alright, Andrew?" Alex asked, suddenly appearing beside him.

"I'm fine, Alex," Andrew replied.

"Your face says otherwise, man," Alex countered.

Andrew just laughed it off, offering no real answer.

A few hours later, Andrew decided to call it a night.

"Are you sure you want to drive right now, man? It's pouring out there. At least wait for it to let up a bit," Alex urged, trying to hold him back.

"I need to get home. If I don't, my parents will lose their minds," Andrew replied, his footsteps unsteady as he staggered toward the front door.

Alex followed him out, holding an umbrella over them. He looked at Andrew with deep concern.

"Hey, man."

Andrew stopped by the driver's side door and looked back. "What is it, Alex?"

"Maybe you should just call a cab."

"Don't worry about it. I can handle my car just fine," Andrew insisted stubbornly.

"I'm serious, Andrew. I don't feel good about you driving."

"I told you, I'm fine!" Andrew snapped, irritation flaring up.

Alex shook his head. He knew it was entirely useless to argue with Andrew once his mind was made up.

"Whatever, man. Just be careful out there."

Andrew climbed into the driver's seat and cranked the engine.

The rain was coming down in sheets now. Andrew slammed on the gas, pushing the car to its limits. His vision blurred against the heavy downpour.

The car tore down the road, faster and faster. Outside, the city streetlights bled into long, smeared streaks of neon against the rain-slicked windshield.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Andrew glanced down at the glowing screen.

It was an incoming call from Alex. Andrew ignored it, forcing his focus back onto the road ahead.

The deluge intensified, turning the asphalt into a slick, treacherous hazard.

Andrew whipped the steering wheel as he hit a sharp turn on a deserted stretch of road.

The rear tires suddenly lost their grip on the wet asphalt, causing the car to fishtail violently out of control.

Panic seized Andrew. He slammed his foot onto the brakes, but it was already too late.

The car completely lost traction. Andrew’s body was violently thrown to the side as the vehicle spun uncontrollably across the slick road.

A massive container truck came barreling from the opposite direction. The driver didn't even have time to slam on the emergency brakes; the distance between them was already too short.

Andrew’s eyes went wide as the truck loomed over him. His heart stopped as the blinding headlights washed over his face.

CRASH!

The car was thrown yards away, rolling over and over before smashing violently into the highway guardrail.