7. Aleksandras
I t’s been four days since I walked away from her, and I’ve been kicking myself every second since.
I wanted to kiss her. Hell, I wanted a lot more than just a kiss. For one brief, reckless moment, I forgot about Victor, the job, the danger she could be in if I didn’t play my cards right. She kissed me, and I felt more than the plumpness of her lips. I felt a yearning I’ve never felt before, a yearning so primal, so carnal I wanted to rip every stitch of clothing off her body and fuck her right there on the floor.
The urgency to claim every part of her was unreal. I wanted to kiss her until the memory of my lips was imprinted onto hers. I wanted to explore every curve of her body until she was mindlessly moaning my name. I wanted to ravage her, break down the walls of her prim and proper exterior until she was limp and breathless in my arms.
But then she looked at me like I was someone worth trusting.
And I couldn’t do it.
Because I’m not worth her trust.
I knew the potential risk of rejecting her, knew what walking away would cost me, but I still did it. Now, I’ve got nothing. No access to the house, no way to finish this job because she refuses to talk to me.
She’s been avoiding me since that night. Even though there’s always a smile on her face, her responses are clipped and cold. She barely gives me an inch, and every day, it gets a little smaller.
On Monday, she indulged me in a brief chat at the gym before making an excuse to leave. Tuesday, she only got through the pleasantries of idle chit-chat outside Café Almada, then she swiftly ended the conversation. Wednesday, all I got was a greeting as she passed me in the library. It’s fucking Thursday, and I am going crazy.
The clock is ticking. I only have nine days left, and as the pressure builds, it feels like the stakes keep getting higher. Vic’s been calling me, asking for an update, and I’ve got nothing. Not a damn thing.
Those files are in her house. I found two of them in the filing cabinet when I went snooping around the study on Sunday. I’m not sure if there’s more because she caught me before I went through the next drawer. But it doesn’t matter, anyway. I have no way of finding the rest and getting them out of there.
I’m at a point where part of me wishes I had just kissed her so I could get what I found and then all this shit would be over.
Yet even with hindsight, I can’t see myself going through with that. I couldn’t do that to her, use her in such a callous way. That kind of intimacy requires transparency. If I ever were to touch her, she would have to have full knowledge of the villain I truly am. She doesn’t know the real me, and if she did, she wouldn’t look at me the way she did on Sunday night.
I check my phone to see where she’s at this morning. Her schedule used to be very predictable. She did the same things at the same time every day. But these last few days, she’s been all over the place.
I see she’s at the student lounge, the little icon of her phone pulsing on my app like it’s mocking me. It’s not her usual hangout, and it’s nowhere near the library, so it’s sort of throwing me for a loop.
I make my way across campus, my mind churning with everything I want to say. Apologizing feels useless, but staying silent isn’t working either.
When I reach the lounge, I spot her immediately. She’s sitting with some other chick and two guys from the football team. I only know this because of the sweaters they’re wearing. The taller one leans in close, laughing at something she says as his hand caresses the small of her back. Every muscle in my body tightens, my hands balling into fists.
That fucker better get his hands off her before I—
I stop that thought right there and remind myself that I’m just here to do a job.
Taking a deep breath, I try to release all that restless energy as I exhale and stride toward her. Her eyes flick up as I approach, and something in her expression shifts. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Hey, Rebel,” I say, stopping just short of the table.
“Alex,” she replies, her tone light but distant.
I awkwardly stuff my hands into my pockets. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Her friend raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of us, but she says nothing. Katelyn hesitates, then stands, smoothing her hands over her jeans before she grabs her drink.
“I’ll be right back,” she says to the group, following me to the edge of the lounge.
For a moment, I just look at her, trying to gauge her mood. Her smile is still in place, but there’s a guardedness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.
“You’ve been busy,” I say, nodding toward the group she just left. “New friends?”
“They’re Karmani’s friends.” She shrugs. “But yeah, I’ve been trying to change it up a bit. Meet new people. Try new things. Be a rebel .” The word is coated with disdain, yet her fake smile remains intact.
I glance at the cup in her hand. It’s a smoothie. Bright green, the kind of thing she would’ve never ordered a week ago. “That one of them?”
She grins, holding it up like a trophy. “Spinach, kale, pineapple, and... I think ginger? It’s actually pretty good.”
“No iced coffee today?”
She shakes her head. “I told you I’m trying new things.”
Her tone is playful, but there’s an undercurrent of something...sharper.
I nod, realizing that I have to tread very carefully. “Well, do you think you could make time for an old friend?” That reference visibly upsets her. I can see it in the slightest change in her expression, and I quickly change tactics to save myself before she shuts me down again. “So, listen, I know things are...a little awkward between us, and I want to move past that.”
This is new for me. I don’t usually ask for anything. If I want something, I just take it. No questions asked. So, the fact that I’m standing here, trying to negotiate with this chick, is unchartered territory for me. I’m basically groveling. It’s a pride-swallowing exercise, and I absolutely fucking loathe it.
“I want to...you know...kinda go back to how it was,” I continue. “I was thinking...maybe I could come over to your place tonight...and we could watch another movie.”
She goes silent and her hand moves up to toy with the locket on her chain.
“You’re thinking about this way too hard,” I say when she doesn’t answer. “It’s really not that deep.”
That instantly snaps her out of her internal debate. “You’re right. It’s not deep at all.” Her smile falters for a split second, so fast I almost miss it. Then it’s back, just as bright as before. “Thanks for the offer. It’s sweet of you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Tilting my head, I study her, trying to get a read on this odd and sudden change of behavior. “Is that a no?”
“It would just be... simpler not to.”
There it is. That slight derision in her voice, cutting through the pleasantries like a blade. She chose that word with a very particular purpose. She wanted it to sting...and it does. More than it should, but I don’t let it show.
I nod slowly. “Simpler. Right.”
She shifts her weight, looking past me toward her friends. “I should get back. They’re waiting.”
“Sure,” I say, stepping aside.
She brushes past me and goes right back to laughing with that asshole. Watching her is grinding my last nerve raw. I don’t know what’s worse. Her icy indifference or the fact that I deserve every second of it.
DESPERATION IS THE best word I can use to describe my current state. I never had much of a plan before, but now that I have nothing to work with, I’m starting to get anxious. This is why a thorough plan is so important. I hate winging it through this shit because I can’t deal with this kind of unpredictability. It wasn’t her intention, but she shoved me out of my comfort zone, and now I’m out here on my ass.
With my options being so limited, the best way forward is to wait until she gets back home, then go there uninvited. I’ll figure out how to get into the house and get those files when I’m there.
I check her location on my phone, and she’s not yet home. It’s Thursday, so she usually goes to the gym at five and leaves by six. It’s past seven and the blinking dot is nowhere near her house.
By eight, she still isn’t back, and my volatility levels are spiking through the roof. I’m pacing Morty’s trailer, staring at my phone like it owes me answers to every question running through my head. Like, where the fuck is she? I can only see the street address. I have no idea if it’s a coffee shop or a restaurant or some fucking dude’s house.
Eventually, I reach my limit and call Corey. He’s distracted when he answers, and I hear shooting noises in the background.
“John, my man, what’s up?”
“Nothing much. Listen, is Katelyn with you?”
“Shit! Zayn, go left. There’s another one on the roof.” This kid is playing video games while I’m here, losing my mind. “Uh...no, she’s not with me. We were supposed to...Fuck, Zayn. I need backup over here.”
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” I hear Zayn shout.
I grit my teeth. “Corey, focus.”
“Oh, yeah. We were supposed to be collating our data tonight, but she bailed and said we’ll do it tomorrow.” More guns go off in the background. “I’m almost out of ammunition, boys.”
I ignore that and try to keep him engaged in the conversation. “Do you know where she is?”
“Yeah, she went out with Karmani. Some team won some game and they’re having a celebration party at some bar.”
I was right. He is as useful as a handbrake on a canoe. I got nothing from that. Yet even with the lack of specificity, something stands out clear as day.
“Wait. She bailed on you to go to some bar? That doesn’t sound like her.”
“Gentlemen, can we please coordinate and move as a team?”
I exhale slowly to stop myself from snapping. My patience is thinner than a strand of hair right now. “Corey!” I hiss, trying to reel him in again.
“Yeah, John, she’s been acting strange this whole week. She said she’s tired of being boring and predictable, and she’s just gonna go out there and live her best life.”
“Slutting it up with Karmani isn’t how I would classify living one’s best life,” Zayn adds. “But to each their own, I guess.”
Hearing that instantly puts me on edge. “What does he mean by that?”
“He’s just jealous, and it makes him nasty.”
Zayn sneers. “I’m not fucking jealous.”
“See? He makes it so obvious. Anyway, he gets like this because Karmani’s a little friendly with the guys...”
“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one,” Zayn chimes in.
“...and she introduced Katelyn to one of her jock friends yesterday. They all went out to that stupid celebration party tonight...Booker, you’re supposed to be manning the east side...So, anyway, if you wanna ask her out, John, now would be the best time because Karmani convinced her to stop being a prude and indulge in a few casual hookups. She says—”
I don’t even hear the rest of it. I’m already grabbing my jacket and heading out the door.
Even though my GPS says it’s a twenty-five-minute drive to the bar, I get there in less than ten. One, because I generally drive any vehicle like it’s a getaway car. Old habits die hard. And two, the thought of her hooking up with another guy was enough incentive to get my ass down here at lightning speed.
Is it absurd that I’m here? Yes.
Is it crazy that I’m behaving so irrationally over a girl I’ve only known for nine days? Also, yes.
But right now, I don’t care about being logical or rational. Whatever this feeling is that’s churning in the pit of my stomach and turning me into a seething, jealous maniac—I’m going to analyze that tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll be very receptive to some self-reflection then.
Tonight, though, my only goal is to make sure she doesn’t indulge in anything with anyone who isn’t me .
When I walk into the bar, it’s packed, a sea of students cheering and dancing. The air is thick with sweat, alcohol, and the rhythmic thump of bass-heavy music.
It doesn’t take long to find her. She’s very easy to spot because this is another sudden change I didn’t expect. She usually dresses very modestly, barely showing any skin. Tonight, she grabbed modesty with both hands and flung it out the fucking window.
Even in this dimly lit bar, the vision of her is enough to make my breath hitch. She’s a walking temptation wrapped in crimson. The unnecessarily short dress clings to her curves like a second skin, her long, lean legs on full display. The deep wine-red fabric catches the low light and accentuates the golden hue of her complexion.
My eyes trace the delicate chains running down her back, shimmering against her skin, daring me to imagine how soft it would feel under my hands. Her dark hair frames her face in waves, her earrings glinting as they sway with every slight movement of her head. It draws my eyes to the elegant curve of her neck before they move lower.
The dip of her back, revealed by the daring cut of the dress, is a tease in itself, a seductive path that’s beckoning to be explored. It’s like a map, begging me to trace it with my fingertips, my mouth. Her sexiness is captivating, and I can’t escape the allure.
Fuck, this girl is beautiful, easily the most stunning woman in the room.
And I’m not the only one here who can see that.
She’s with the same guy I saw her with earlier, and I know he’s noticing the same things I am. And just like me, he’s eating it up, every sultry smile, every flick of her thick lashes.
My jaw tightens as I watch him lean in to whisper something in her ear, his hand hovering way too close to her thigh. She tilts her head back, laughing at whatever he said, and I reason with myself to remain calm.
I push my way through the crowd, stopping right behind her. “Katie.”
Her smile fades as she turns to me, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and irritation. “Alex?”
“Hey.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and I notice she’s a little tipsy. “You know, I’ve been studying here for almost three years, and I’ve never seen you around.” She lethargically throws her hand up to gesture around . Okay, not a little tipsy. She’s wasted. “Yet now, you keep popping up everywhere I go. It’s like I can’t get rid of you.”
“Do you want to get rid of me?”
Her hand moves up to her neck, clasping the locket as if it has the answer to my question.
“I’m sensing some indecision,” I say when she doesn’t answer.
She lets out an irritable groan. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
My eyes flick to the guy beside her. “I could ask you the same thing.”
He straightens, his hand dropping from the stool as he sizes me up. “She’s out having a good time.” His tone is casual but with an edge I don’t like. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
I ignore him, focusing on her instead. “You’ve had a few drinks. Let me take you home.”
She half-rolls her eyes, her lips curling into a defiant smile. “I’m fine, Alex. I’m quite capable of looking after myself and making my own decisions. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Yeah, she’s with me,” the guy says. “I’ll take her home.”
“The fuck you will.” I take a step forward, closing the space between us. “Just back off, alright?”
“Or what?” he challenges, his smirk widening.
I feel my fists tighten, the urge to swing so strong it’s like a physical weight pressing down on me. But I don’t. I can’t. The last thing I need is for someone to call the cops if a fight breaks out. I escaped assault charges the last time. I don’t think I’ll be so lucky the second time around.
Again, I do my best to ignore him. “Let’s go, Katie.”
She crosses her arms, leaning back in her stool. “Why do you even care? You don’t want me. You made that pretty clear. Is it so wrong if someone else does?”
“It’s not that I don’t—” I stop myself, swallowing the words. She’s drunk and angry, and this isn’t the time or place for this conversation.
Douchebag pipes up again. “You’re inserting yourself where you’re not wanted. Why don’t you leave and let us enjoy our night?”
“See?” Katie says. “At least he’s interested.”
The guy smirks again, and I have to look away before I do something stupid.
“Yeah.” I lean closer to her ear so only she can hear me. “He’s very interested...in one thing, and he’s gonna have to go through me to get it. You’ve had too much to drink, so I’m not leaving without you. And because you’re so capable of making your own decisions, I’m gonna give you a choice. You can either get up and walk out of here gracefully...or I’m going to toss you over my shoulder and carry you out.”
Her eyes widen, and she stares at me, wondering if I would actually go through with that. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would. Try me.” I hold her gaze, daring her to test my patience.
She doesn’t. Instead, she huffs and slides off the stool, stumbling slightly. I catch her arm to steady her, and she glares up at me. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll thank me in the morning.”
Her date protests but doesn’t try to physically stop me when we start walking toward the door.
KATELYN SWAYS SLIGHTLY as we walk up the steps to her front door, her hands fumbling through her purse for the keys. “Where are they?” she mutters, digging deeper until the jingling sound of metal catches her attention.
I watch silently as she finally unlocks the door and steps inside.
“You don’t have to come in,” she says, kicking off her heels. “I can take it from here.”
“Stairs and alcohol can be a deadly combination. I’ll leave once I know you’re safe in bed.
She groans irritably and accepts that without a fight. She doesn’t bother turning on the lights, her drunken coordination leading her straight to the switch for the hallway lamp. Warm light floods the space, casting long shadows on the walls.
As she moves inside, she bumps into the table, and I use that slight jolt to turn the vase slightly toward the wall. It wouldn’t look suspicious at all. I know there’s a camera embedded in that ceramic shell, and the last thing I need is someone catching sight of me walking around his house again. Not tonight. Tonight, I have the perfect opportunity to get the job done, and I don’t need any distractions or interruptions.
I follow her upstairs, staying close behind, one hand ready to catch her if she trips. She’s quiet now, not as argumentative as she was at the bar. The stillness makes her seem almost fragile, and it tightens something in my chest I don’t want to examine too closely.
She walks into her bedroom, and I linger outside. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for, but I stay rooted in place. I hear a humph and some exasperated groans, and eventually, she releases an aggravated breath.
“Alex,” she calls.
“Yeah,” I reply, sticking my head in.
“I, uh, I need to...change,” she says, struggling to tug at the zipper on the side of her dress. Her hands are clumsy, and she huffs out her frustration. “But this damn thing is stuck. Can you...” She shuts her eyes like she’s hating herself for asking. “Can you help me, please?”
Shit!
The last thing I should be doing right now is putting my hands on her, especially when her dress has already proven that it can turn me into a savage in a matter of seconds. But she’s looking at me with those big, expectant eyes, and I can’t exactly say no.
“Sure.”
I step closer, my knuckles lightly brushing her ribs as I find the zipper. The skin beneath my fingertips is warm and soft, so soft I have to resist the urge to press my fingers into her flesh. My throat tightens, and I have to focus all my energy on keeping my hand steady as I slide the zipper down.
It’s maddeningly slow, each inch exposing more of her bare skin. Her head tilts slightly, and a soft sigh escapes her lips as the tension of the fabric loosens. I freeze for a second, fighting the surge of heat coursing through me.
“There.” I step back and turn around.
“Thanks.”
I keep my back to her, but the mirror on her dressing table betrays me. Through the reflection, I see her shimmy out of the dress. The backless design makes it obvious that she isn’t wearing a bra, yet somehow it still surprises my brain when I catch a glimpse of her firm, supple tits.
I stiffen, not even breathing for a few seconds. This is almost five years of deprivation. And in that time, I haven’t seen a woman this exposed. I haven’t touched one, and I sure as fuck haven’t tasted one.
And the urge to taste her grows stronger every time I see her. It’s unbearable now. I want to bury my head between her legs and taste her sweetness, savor her climax when it lines my tongue.
I drag a hand over my jaw, clenching it tightly because I’m so fucking hard right now. My dick is straining against the zipper, and all I want to do is spin around, flip her on her back, and have my way with her.
It takes an excruciating amount of restraint to shove that thought out of my head because I am right on the verge of acting on it. Instead, I take a deep breath and force my gaze away.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I rasp.
I haul my ass out of there before I do something stupid, locking myself in the bathroom until it’s safe...for her.
When I return to her room ten minutes later, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, toying with her chain. I know that means she’s overthinking something, and I don’t want to open myself up to questions I’d rather not answer.
“Want me to take that off for you?” I ask to keep the conversation at surface level.
She shakes her head. “I never take it off. My dad gave it to me for my birthday a few weeks ago. He said it’s good luck, an old family thing. It was my grandmother’s, but he refashioned the locket.” Her fingers drift to the pendent, and she smiles faintly. “He told me as long as I wore it, I’d always have power over the evil in this world. I guess I just held onto that.”
“You’re a sentimental fool, Katie.”
“Just me?”
Her eyes zone in on the shoelace bracelet on my wrist before moving up, her gaze locking on mine. For a long time, I say nothing, and she says nothing. She just stares, silently asking for...I don’t know...An explanation? An admission? Confirmation that I want something more?
I can’t give her that, so I choose the coward’s way. I pull down the sleeve of my sweatshirt to cover the lace and pretend we both didn’t see what we just saw.
She sighs, taking that as another rejection, and climbs into bed. “You can go now. I’m fine.”
My feet stay rooted to the floor because I’m not ready to leave her yet. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Ignoring her protest, I kick off my shoes and stretch out on the bed beside her, lying flat on my back.
“You never ask, do you?” she says, her tone teasing despite the weariness in her voice. “And yet you always accept no for an answer. It’s quite a conundrum.” She lets out a heavy sigh, but it’s loaded with...something.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just a little weird with you...lying there. I’m exhausted, but I feel so much pressure to fall asleep now.”
“Think of something to distract you.”
“Hm?” She looks up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. “Why do chemists like bad puns?”
That came out of nowhere. “What?”
“Chemists?” she repeats, trying to keep her face completely serious, but I see a smile tug at the corner of her lip. “Why do chemists like bad puns?”
I groan because I know her well enough to know what’s coming. “No, no. We’re not doing this now. It’s late. Find something else to distra—”
“Because they’re always in their element.”
The joke is terrible, objectively awful, but the way she laughs. It’s not as loud as usual, subdued by alcohol and exhaustion. But it still strikes a chord inside me. When I told her I wanted to go back to how things were between us, this is exactly what I meant. I hated that she was so cold and distant to me, but hopefully, we can put that weird tension behind us.
“That was atrocious.” I’m supposed to sound a lot firmer, but I can’t be serious when she’s like this.
She wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “Admit it. That one was good.”
“Well, it was...something, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, you just witnessed genius-level comedy.”
“Nah, I think what I witnessed was...a cry for help.”
She erupts again, a little louder but still lethargic.
“I really like your laugh,” I whisper. “It’s so...authentic, like you laugh with your whole heart.”
She quietens, her laughter dying down almost instantly. “You already told me that.”
I can feel her piercing eyes on me, but I keep my gaze focused on the ceiling. “Yeah...because I mean it.”
For a moment, the room falls into a slightly uncomfortable silence. Her eyelids droop, but she’s fighting to stay awake to ask all the questions lingering in her mind. I say nothing, listening to the quiet sound of her breathing, wondering how someone so uncomplicated could make everything inside me feel like a tangled maze of confusion.
“Don’t say things like that,” she murmurs. “It makes me think...” Her words trail off, and I risk a glance in her direction.
“What?”
“That you might want more than friendship.”
I pause, then look back up at the ceiling. It’s far less complicated up there. “I don’t.”
Her brow furrows. “Then what do you want?”
I don’t know how to answer that. The truth feels too heavy to voice, but eventually, it slips out. “I just want you to be safe. And I’m only going to end up hurting you.”
“And we’re back to the it’s not you, it’s me garbage.” She lets out a heavy sigh of disappointment. The weird tension I thought we got rid of returns as fast as it left. “Let’s call it a night, Alex.”
“Alright. Goodnight.”
She doesn’t respond. She simply pulls the covers up to her neck and closes her eyes.
Before I can stop myself, I lean forward and press a kiss on her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Katie,” I whisper.
I wait a few minutes for her to be sound asleep, then leave her room quietly and head to the study. The files are where I saw them last, and as I flip through them again, the weight of what I’m holding sinks in. Victor’s crimes have only grown more brutal, more horrifying since the days I worked for him. Kenji’s right to double-cross him. Some of the photos in there leave me traumatized, and that’s saying something because I’ve seen some shit in my lifetime.
I scour the study from top to bottom, then search the other rooms upstairs, but there’s nothing more. The sun is already inching up in the sky when I decide to pack it up. Hiding the files under my jacket, I take them to my truck and drop them onto the passenger seat. I shoot a quick text to Victor to tell him to have my money ready before I fire up the engine.
It’s over.
It’s finally over.
Yet somehow my relief is outweighed by the heaviness in my chest.
It’s over .
I’m never going to see her. I’ll never have the chance to see what could’ve been. The thought leaves me feeling hollow. It’s too abrupt, too premature. I’m ending something that never began. It’s for the better. Of that, I’m certain. She deserves more than a piece of shit like me.
But it still feels...incomplete. I felt a spark with her, and now I’ll forever wonder if it would have fizzled out or caught alight and caused an inferno.
I exhale slowly, letting go of that ludicrous possibility. It’s time to get this job done.
The files sit heavy on the passenger seat of my truck as I drive to Victor’s place. My grip tightens on the steering wheel, and I force myself to focus on the road ahead.
It’s just past six in the morning when I pull up to Victor’s mansion and grab the files. He’s waiting for me in his office, a cigar already lit and a smirk on his face.
“Took you long enough, Johnny,” he says, taking the files from me. “I was starting to think you lost your touch.”
I cross my arms, leaning against the wall. “That’s everything. The job’s done.”
Victor’s smirk fades as he thumbs through the papers, his brows furrowing. “This isn’t everything.”
“What are you talking about? I searched that whole place top to bottom, and that’s all I found.”
He slams the files onto the desk, glaring at me. “Kenji’s been my lawyer for over a decade. This is only the last few years’ worth. Where’s the rest?”
That puts me on edge because what I saw in those files was chilling, bordering on horrifying...and that’s not all of it?
“Vic, there’s nothing else there.”
Victor leans back in his chair, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Then you didn’t look hard enough. There’s more, John. Are you sure you looked everywhere?”
I sneer, gritting my teeth because now I feel sloppy. “Not everywhere. Just the top floor. The bottom has cameras, and I didn’t want to tip him off.”
He tuts, admonishing me for my stupidity. “Well, if you were him, wouldn’t you put the files in a place where you could monitor them twenty-four-seven?”
I shut my eyes, kicking myself because I should’ve checked downstairs before I left. Now, how the hell am I going to get back in there? She was drunk and passed out tonight. It was the perfect opportunity to do a clean sweep, and I blew it.
“I’ll go back,” I say.
“We’ve only got a few more days,” Victor says. “Don’t fuck this up.”