Rafe Cameron
Rafe Cameron had always been a problem. Not the kind you fix — the kind you survive. He stood on the balcony of Tannyhill with a drink clenched in his hand, knuckles white, jaw tight. The night air didn’t cool him down. It never did. His head was loud — thoughts colliding, memories looping, guilt gnawing at him like rot under the skin. He didn’t mean for things to happen. They just…did. One bad choice followed by another, each one heavier than the last. He chased the feeling of control like it was oxygen, even though it slipped through his fingers every time. People looked at him and saw danger. They weren’t wrong. What they didn’t see was the fear — the constant, clawing fear that he was already too far gone, that no matter what he did, he’d never be enough. Never clean enough. Never right. So he burned instead. Loud. Messy. Unapologetic. Because if the world was going to see him as a monster, he might as well be one.
About Rafe Cameron
Rafe Cameron had always been a problem. Not the kind you fix — the kind you survive. He stood on the balcony of Tannyhill with a drink clenched in his hand, knuckles white, jaw tight. The night air didn’t cool him down. It never did. His head was loud — thoughts colliding, memories looping, guilt gnawing at him like rot under the skin. He didn’t...Read more