Jack tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. Even in his dreams, the twisted faces of Leslie and Christopher haunted him.
He had dreamt of throwing punches, of smashing his fists into their disgusting grins—only to wake up and realize it was all just a dream.
By the time morning arrived, he was exhausted.
After a quick wash, he dragged himself to class. But no matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind remained elsewhere.
…
The moment school was over, Jack rushed toward the radio station.
Even though he had already taken the day off, there was no way he was skipping this broadcast.
Phoebe was already there when he arrived, preparing for the evening's show.
He hesitated for a moment before calling out softly, "Phoebe."
She flinched slightly, her body tensing at the sound of his voice. Then she turned around, surprise flickering in her eyes.
"Jack? You're here for the broadcast?"
There was a note of excitement in her tone, but she quickly masked it with her usual calm.
Jack hesitated. He couldn't exactly say he was here to warn her because if he told her that Leslie was a complete scumbag, she probably wouldn't even believe him.
Phoebe trusted Leslie far more than she trusted Jack.
If he wanted to stop her from going anywhere near that guy tonight, he needed a better plan.
So, he simply nodded.
"Yeah. Figured I'd help out."
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