Meanwhile, Vince was at an arcade in the city, killing time with Dale and Theo. The place was buzzing with lights, old game sounds, and the occasional yell of victory—or defeat.
"Damn, I lost again," Theo groaned, dropping the arcade stick in frustration after yet another defeat in Street Fighter.
"How do you even memorize all those combos?" Dale asked, shaking his head. "You're not human, Vince."
Vince just smirked, leaning back.
"Me and my dad used to play this all the time. Guess it stuck."
Theo's stomach suddenly growled loud enough to turn heads.
"Alright, enough of this. I'm starving."
"There's that new chicken place down the street," Theo added. "Heard it's pretty good."
"Let's check it out," Vince said, throwing an arm around both of his friends as they walked out together, relaxed and laughing.
As they strolled through the evening crowd, Theo glanced sideways.
"Hey, Vince—Vanessa. Are you two... dating or what?"
Vince gave a lazy grin but didn't deflect.
"I would be—if she gave me the chance."
Dale raised an eyebrow. "So you're actually serious about her?"
Vince nodded without hesitation.
"Yeah. I don't know what you'd call it, but... felt like love at first sight."
The other two exchanged a quick look, surprised by how straightforward he was.
"Damn," Theo said, impressed.
"Didn't expect you to go full Romeo."
"Yeah, well..." Vince shoved his hands into his pockets. "She's different. Makes everything else feel less important."
"Mmm... you know," Theo said between steps, "I actually knew Vanessa back in middle school. She and Darian had a... weird kind of relationship."
Vince turned his head.
"Wait—you knew about her and Darian?"
Theo shrugged. "Not much. Just that they were close. Like, unusually close. No one really knew what was going on between them."
Vince fell quiet for a beat.
"There's a lot I want to ask her... but I don't think she trusts me enough yet."
"Then earn it," Dale said simply.
"That's what I'm doing, genius," Vince shot back, nudging Dale with his elbow.
They laughed and kept walking, the evening settling over the city like a warm blanket. Neon lights reflected off shop windows, and the smell of fried food drifted through the air.
Then, suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle tore through the street.
Theo's head snapped toward the road. His eyes widened.
"Hey—wait. Isn't that... Vanessa?" He pointed down the street.
Vince followed his line of sight. "Where?"
But by the time he turned, the bike was already weaving into the distance—gone. Just a flash of motion, the tail of a helmet, the blur of a passenger's hair in the wind.
"Why are you messing with me, Theo?" Vince said, brushing it off with a grin as he smacked Theo lightly on the back.
"No, I'm serious. I swear that was her—with Darian."
Dale snorted. "Man, you're so hungry you're hallucinating now."
Theo frowned but didn't press.
"I know what I saw..." he muttered under his breath, then sighed.
"Ah, forget it. Let's just eat."
At the same time, Darian pulled his motorcycle into a quiet lot in the city, parking in front of what looked like a run-down club with half-faded signage. The place had long been abandoned by any real business—but to Darian and his crew, it was home turf. A hangout. A place with no rules.
He killed the engine and pulled off his helmet, then reached over and unbuckled Vanessa's without a word. She didn't resist—but her expression said everything.
She wasn't angry anymore. She just looked... tired. Distant. Like something inside her had dimmed.
"Why'd you bring me here?" she asked, her voice low.
Darian stepped off the bike and stretched.
"You haven't been here in a while, huh? We've changed a lot since back then."
She didn't move.
"I told you—I hated this place."
He looked back at her, unbothered.
"You hate it now. Back then, you loved it. Come on." And just like that, he turned and walked inside.
Vanessa stood still for a moment, then followed. Not because she wanted to—but because she didn't see a way out.
⸻
Inside, the place looked like a man cave born from chaos. Arcade cabinets lined one wall, most flickering with old, half-broken screens. A worn-down basketball hoop was bolted into the far end. In the center, a massive sectional couch faced a wall-mounted TV rigged up with every console imaginable. Wires ran wild, snack wrappers were everywhere, and the air smelled like cheap cologne and energy drinks.
"Took you long enough, Darian," said Jake, stepping out from behind the couch. Broad-shouldered, always scowling—he was one of Darian's closest friends and a starting pitcher for the school's baseball team. Known for his aggression on and off the field.
From the side, another voice chimed in.
"Wait—is that Vanessa?" Luma said with a grin. He leaned on an old pinball machine, flipping a coin between his fingers. Shady and smooth-talking, Luma was infamous at school for running bets behind the scenes—on everything from sports games to test scores.
"Art club baddie in the flesh," Luma said, smirking. "Didn't think we'd ever see you back here again."
Vanessa crossed her arms, not saying a word.
She didn't belong here. She never had. But back then, she'd pretended she did—for Darian.
"Vany?"
Vanessa turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Catalina stood near the back wall, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and concern. An old friend—one she hadn't seen in what felt like forever.
"You're still hanging out here?" Vanessa asked, her voice flat.
Catalina walked over slowly.
"I should be asking you that. I thought you'd never step foot in this place again."
Vanessa shook her head.
"You think I wanted to come here? This is the last place I ever want to be."
"I dragged her here," Darian chimed in from the couch, stretching out like he owned the place. "Relax. Take a seat."
Vanessa didn't move.
"Can I just leave? I'll call a cab."
Darian looked at her without blinking.
"No. Just hang out for a bit. I'll take you home later."
Jake let out a low laugh from across the room.
"What—holding her hostage now? That your new thing?"
"You his girl or what?" Luma asked, his tone teasing but laced with something colder.
"No." Vanessa said immediately, sharp and certain.
Luma grinned.
"Could've fooled me. With all the pictures he's got of you in his room, I figured you two were locked in."
Vanessa's head snapped toward Darian.
"You still have pictures of us?"
Darian shrugged.
"They're just... memories. Souvenirs, whatever." He tossed a controller toward Jake.
"Let's play something."
"What, no bets tonight?" Luma asked, flipping his coin.
"Not today." Darian said, eyes still on Vanessa.
She didn't sit. She didn't touch the controller. She just stood there, surrounded by people she used to know, in a place she no longer belonged to, feeling more like a prisoner than a guest.
And for the first time in a long while—she felt small.