He closed the laptop.
He hadn't meant to type it. His fingers just moved on their own, a muscle memory from a darker time. He pressed Enter. You searched for Juice Wrld
But as the chorus swelled, he felt it: the old, familiar ache in his chest. It wasn't sadness. It was nostalgia for the sadness. Juice Wrld had been the soundtrack to almost losing himself completely. He closed the laptop