Chapter 2

"Why isn't he bouncing? Did the cord get stuck?"

Caleb Davis chewed on his toothpick, leaning over the railing of the platform. He frowned, shouting down to the staff at the bottom.

My body hung in mid-air, limbs dangling limply, like an old shirt tossed over a clothesline.

The elasticity of the bungee cord had completely vanished. All that was left was the slow, residual sway of inertia—left, then right, slow as a pendulum.

Then, it came to a complete stop.

About thirty people were gathered below, most of them squinting up at the sky.

Some leaned against the wooden pillars of the pavilion, while others pulled out their phones to film.

A few coworkers whispered among themselves, their faces relaxed, enjoying the free drama.

My dad stood at the very front of the crowd. He cupped his hands around his mouth, his voice slicing through the open valley.

"Ethan! Wave your hand so we know you're fine!"

No one answered.

"Did you hear me? Stop faking it up there!"

His face flushed red, the veins on his neck bulging.

A coworker next to him gently nudged his arm.

"Hey, Richard, is he really unconscious? Maybe we should have the crew pull him down to check?"

My dad slapped the man’s hand away, his voice sharp with the humiliation of being publicly embarrassed.

"He's faking. He’s been doing this since he was a kid. Whenever things don’t go his way, he plays sick. Ignore him. The more attention you give him, the worse he gets."

I floated above the high platform, staring down at him.

Mr. Vance, the CEO, stood under the shade of the pavilion. He sipped his iced Americano and checked his Rolex with a slight frown.

Next to him was a girl in a white sundress. She held her phone high, her camera pointed directly at where I hung.

Chloe Vance. The CEO’s daughter. She had been brought in as an intern last month, and her desk was right next to my dad’s.

"Look, guys. This guy jumped and now he’s just hanging there, totally frozen. This is literally so embarrassing."

She whispered into her phone screen, laughing as her thumb scrolled through the TikTok Live comments.

"Don't worry, he's totally fine. He's probably just a coward who passed out from crying."

Caleb signaled his assistant to crank the winch.

"Creak. Creak." The metal groaned as my body was dragged up, inch by inch.

He crouched by the edge of the platform. The moment my shoulders cleared the railing, he grabbed my collar and hauled me onto the deck.

My head rolled back, my chin resting limply against my collarbone.

Caleb slapped my cheek. Once, twice, three times. He wasn't gentle.

"Hey, buddy? Wake up."

No response.

He slapped me twice more, then placed two fingers right under my nose.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

The toothpick dropped from his mouth.

His face paled, but only for a fraction of a second.

He quickly scanned the crowd below, then glanced at the safety liability sign bolted to the wooden wall.

Then, he crouched back down, slapping my shoulder casually.

"Will, go grab a bottle of water and the first-aid kit," he muttered to his assistant, his voice barely a whisper.

The assistant blinked, confused.

"Caleb, he looks... really bad."

"Just get the water," Caleb cut him off, his voice turning to steel.

The assistant turned and ran.

Caleb looked down at me, yanked my collar loose to make it look like he was helping me breathe, and yelled down to the crowd.

"He's fine! Just fainted from the shock! He'll be up in a minute!"

An immediate wave of laughter erupted from the crowd below.

My dad let out a long, heavy sigh of relief, patting his chest before walking over to Mr. Vance.

"See, Mr. Vance? I told you he’s a coward. Fainted right on cue."

His voice carried a flattering, apologetic chuckle, as if he were apologizing for my lack of manners.

Mr. Vance took another sip of his coffee.

"Young people these days. They just need to be toughened up."

Chloe chimed in from the side.

"Mr. Miller, Ethan will be fine. I was scared when I jumped too, but the moment you drop, it’s like, totally worth it."

She smiled, her camera still aimed at the platform.

My dad smiled back at her, then glanced up at the tower.

Caleb was currently splashing bottled water onto my face and rubbing my temples.

Everything looked normal.

Everything fit perfectly into the box of "he's fine."

I floated in the air, watching a stranger splash water onto my cold, lifeless face. I was treated like a piece of meat that had lost all sensation.

Meanwhile, my dad stood below, eagerly chatting up his boss.

"Mr. Vance, the catered BBQ buffet should be ready by now. Why don't we try the local ribs?"