Missed Steps – Episode 3: The Rift

A FaceThyFear™ Psychological Thriller Series

⚠️ Disclaimer:

Missed Steps is a fictional work that explores the struggles of addiction, recovery, and psychological tension. While inspired by real emotions and experiences, all characters, events, and locations are entirely fictional. This story does not glorify substance use, violence, or illegal activities but rather serves as a raw, unfiltered exploration of the mental and emotional battles that come with recovery.

If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction, help is available:

📞 SAMHSA National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)

💻 Find resources at www.Facethyfear.com (http://www.Facethyfear.com)

Falling.

The skyline twists, bending into impossible shapes.

Zay moves fast, weightless, powerful.

He launches from one rooftop to the next, soaring through the air like gravity means nothing. The city below? An endless drop.

His breath is steady. His body, in control.

He knows this place, this game.

Then, mid-jump—

Something changes.

The air thickens, turns heavy. His arms flail. His legs won’t move.

The rooftop he was reaching for? Just out of reach.

And then—

He’s falling.

Hard.

The buildings stretch away, the street rushing toward him.

He can’t scream. Can’t grab onto anything.

Falling.

Falling.

He Wakes Up Gasping.

Sweat clings to his back. The sheets are damp. His heart’s slamming against his ribs.

His hand instinctively reaches for his phone. The screen glares back at him.

1 New Message.

It’s from her.

A picture. From long ago.

Zay stares at it, chest tightening.

They look happy. The kind of happiness that doesn’t exist anymore.

But that’s not what gets him.

It’s the memory. The only thing that stands out now.

His best friend.

His girl.

The two of them, behind his back, drinking wine together.

They didn’t even have the decency to hide it.

His hands tighten into fists.

He doesn’t respond.

He tosses the phone aside, breath shaky. He won’t let this ruin his day.

Except it already has.

Reality Hits Hard.

By the time he makes it to work, he’s already on edge.

His back is killing him—Segmental Dysfunction flaring up, reminding him of everything he’s put his body through.

Being an electrician isn’t the hardest job in the world, but today?

It feels impossible.

His head is somewhere else. Every wire he touches feels like a slow-motion task. His movements are sloppy, hands shaking from too little sleep, too much weight on his shoulders.

And then there’s school.

Back in college for the second time.

Because the first time? He got kicked out.

Police. Drugs. A whole mess that shouldn’t have happened.

Now, he’s here, trying to get his life back on track, but—

Some of this sh*t doesn’t make sense.

The numbers, the calculations—it’s like his brain won’t hold onto it.

He wasn’t always like this.

But drugs? They take things from you.

And when they take enough? You don’t always get it back.

The Last Straw.

His helper—**the guy he’s supposed to be training—**shows up late and acting reckless.

And then?

Zay finds a bag of blow in his work vehicle.

Left there, carelessly. Like it’s nothing.

The rage hits him fast.

He could get fired. Arrested. Ruin everything he’s built.

And this kid? This dumbass? Doesn’t even realize the risk.

Zay wants to grab him. Wants to shake some sense into him.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he dumps the bag, slamming the door shut behind him.

His hands won’t stop shaking.

His mind won’t stop racing.

He feels so far from God right now.

So far from everything good.

And the worst part?

It’d be so easy to slip.

The Girl at the Bar.

Late night.

Zay’s alone, working an electrical panel in a bar after hours.

The place is quiet. Dimly lit.

And then—

She walks in.

She’s everything he used to like.

Everything that used to get him into trouble.

Dark eyes. A knowing smirk. That kind of effortless confidence that makes bad decisions feel like fate.

She leans against the bar, watching him work.

“You good with your hands?”

Zay doesn’t even look up. “Something like that.”

She laughs, low and smooth. “You wanna come back to my place after I close up?”

He exhales through his nose. Shakes his head.

“I’m clean. I’m sober.”

She doesn’t even hesitate.

“That’s fine. I just… need someone to talk to. About getting sober.”

Zay finally glances at her.

She’s lying.

He knows it before he even sees the small bag of blow tucked in her bra.

She follows his gaze. Smirks. Like she’s daring him.

“My ex got me hooked. He won’t leave me alone.”

Something about her makes Zay’s stomach twist.

Not just the way she looks.

Not just the way she talks.

Something else.

Something deeper.

His mind tugs him back—back to old nights, old mistakes.

He has a girlfriend. A good one. A real one.

A girl who actually respects him.

But right now?

Every instinct in him is screaming.

Telling him to walk away.

Telling him to stay.

His hands curl into fists.

His breath slows.

And then—

The night waits for his answer.

End of Episode 3.

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