Third Person POV
Max slammed his phone against the wall hard enough to crack the cheap plaster, the impact echoing too loudly in the cramped motel room. The device shattered on contact, skittering across the stained carpet until it hit the base of the bed and stopped.
“Un-f*****g-believable.”
His voice bounced off the thin walls, raw and hoarse, stripped of control. The curtains still smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and mildew, the flickering fluorescent light overhead doing nothing to soften the ugliness of the space. It felt fitting. This was where he belonged now.
“After everything I did for him,” Max shouted, pacing back and forth like an animal trapped in a cage that was suddenly too small. “A year. A full f*****g year.”
He dragged both hands through his hair, fingers catching
