“You don’t know anything about me. Or him.” I jab a finger in Kian’s direction, who’s currently talking with five other girls. One of them seems to be massaging his shoulders, while the other four flock around him like a group of besotted dogs. I can’t help but note that his eyes are shrouded in pain. So much pain, my stomach physically spasms, threatening to empty itself onto the floor. Why is he so…sad? Why doesn’t anyone say anything to him?