You start to spiral

The curb's grit crunches under my shoes as I walk, the dive bar district's neon haze fading behind me. Streetlights cast long shadows, stretching like fingers across the pavement, and the night's chill seeps through my jacket. I shove my hands deeper into my pockets, the phone heavy against my thigh, a silent accomplice to the mess I've made. Jordan's laughter echoes in my head, bright and false, a ghost of what I **** into existence.

Depression twists in my gut, slow and insistent, like ink spreading through water. I didn't want this. Not her, not the alley, not the hollow thrill that pulled me under. Yet some buried part of me savored it, the power thrumming in my veins, the way her body yielded without question. It's the app's whisper, twisting inside me, reshaping the edges of who I am. Just like Sarah, her old self fractured into devotion. Tessa's independence melted into eager service. Am I next? The thought chills me deeper than the wind, because beneath the guilt, there's a flicker of excitement, a hunger that isn't mine, or maybe it is, now.

I quicken my pace, the apartment blocks looming closer, their windows glowing like watchful eyes. Elena's face flashes in my mind, her green eyes sharp with that mix of hurt and hope from this morning's walk. We were rebuilding something real, fragile but ours, and I shattered it tonight with Sarah's skin under my hands, the app's blowback dragging me back when I tried to stop. No response to my text yet, and the silence stings worse than the cold. I pull out my phone, thumb tracing the screen, tempted to weave something soft for her, ease the disappointment, nudge her closer, but I stop. That's the trap, the chain tightening. If I give in fully, what's left of me?

The symbiote's truth burns fresh. It feeds on this, on conquests and bindings, or my mind unravels like frayed thread. Blowback already clawed at me earlier, visions blurring at the edges when I resisted Sarah, the app's voice cooing promises of equilibrium if I just claimed more. And I did, with Jordan, only to erase it all. Why? To feel clean? Or because the part of me that's changing craves the cycle, the push and pull of control? My steps falter at a crosswalk, red light pulsing, and I lean against a lamppost, breath fogging the air. Cars hiss by, oblivious, and for a moment, I envy their emptiness.

Home is just blocks away now, Sarah probably waiting in her apartment across the hall, her commands etched deep. Tessa, exiled by my word, edges alone in whatever corner I've banished her to. The harem ledger mocks me from memory. Proxies expanding, efficiencies stacking, but it's all smoke. I want Elena's knee pressed against mine under a table, her laugh unscripted, no weaves to **** it. Pushing off the post, I cross the street, the light flipping green. The app stays quiet, sated for now, but I feel its patience, waiting for the next fracture. Depression whispers that resistance is futile, that maybe surrender tastes sweet. I clench my jaw and keep walking, the door to my building a shadowed promise ahead.