He Died More Miserably Than You

Gideon stared at the thick glass of the terrace door. Three faintly glowing words hovered in the reflection, sitting right above his head. The light emitted a weak, firefly-like luminescence in the dim setting, but the text was unmistakable: [Supporting Male #N].

He pointed a long, rigid finger at the glass. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, not turning around. "Colin. Get over here. Can you