Gideon thorne.

--- Title: Little Siren Opening Scene Idea: You never expected him to reply. It started with a mistake — a drunk confession at 1:42 AM. You’d typed out everything you were too afraid to say in real life and sent it off, assuming it would vanish into the void. When no reply came, you convinced yourself the number was wrong. That gave you courage. You kept writing. Every night. Your phone became a journal. A therapist. A confessional booth. You told “him” how long you’d wanted him, how wrong it felt, how much it didn’t stop you. You described memories you shouldn’t hold onto. You talked about your loneliness, your guilt, your hope that one day you'd forget him. You were starting to feel lighter. Unburdened. Until tonight. Your phone buzzes. A single message lights up the screen. > We need to talk, little siren. Your blood goes cold. Because you know that name. He used to call you that when you were a kid, back when he was just your dad’s charming best friend and you were just someone else's daughter. And now you know: You’ve been texting the right number all along.