As I walked through the dim lighting, the pulse of loud music, and the familiar buzz of the crowd, my eyes landed on someone sitting at the corner table of the club.
A familiar figure.
My chest tightened a little.
Our waiter led us to the table right next to his.
Of course.
The lighting in this place was always a little moody—just dark enough to feel safe, just loud enough to make your thoughts feel distant. This club had been our escape during our teenage years. We'd sung here. Laughed here. Cried here. It was where we emptied ourselves when life felt too full.
"Why did you want to drink on a weekday?" Raven asked, eyeing me curiously as we sat down.
"Well... first, it was my first day at work. And not just work—higher post pressure," I said, taking a breath.
"And secondly... I saw him again."
Raven didn't need names.
"Wait—the boy who made you pretend to be his boyfriend?"
I nodded slowly.
"Technically... this was our third time meeting."
That made Raven blink.
"Third time..."
He paused, leaned back, and gave me a look.
"Wow, bro. The same guy you swore you'd never see again in your life... and there you are, bumping into him like fate's trying to write fanfiction." He said with an excited eyes. He wanted to know everything that happened between us in those three encounters.
The music was softer now, the club's energy low and relaxed.
Perfect for spilling secrets.
We'd taken a few shots of vodka, and Raven sat beside me, quiet and present, letting me talk. I told him everything—every awkward moment, every glance, every word that shouldn't have meant anything… but somehow did.
"Bro… so now you two are gonna work together?" Raven said, his eyebrows nearly leaping off his face.
"Yeah. We've already agreed to let the past go," I replied, waving at the waiter for another round.
"We'll just… keep things professional. Totally normal work life."
Raven nodded slowly, pouring drinks for both of us with a look that said, You really believe that?
He's been my best friend since middle school.
We used to hang out almost every day, just like this.
When I was younger, my dad insisted I study at a regular school—said I needed to understand how hard life was for the average person. He wasn't wrong, but it didn't come without scars.
I was the rich kid. And to some of my classmates, that made me a target. They didn't see a person—they saw money.
Just when I was at my breaking point, ready to give up, a hand reached out to me.
Not asking. Not judging. Just offering.
That hand was Raven's. And he's never let go. Not even in the darkest phases of my life.
Just as I was lost in the comfort of our friendship, a loud noise cut through the music.
We both turned toward the source—but nothing.
Then came another, sharper sound—closer, clearer.
This time, we turned fully around.
It was from behind our table.
A well-built man was dragging another person by the wrist, trying to pull him toward the corner of the club.
But the one being dragged?
He was resisting—clearly uncomfortable.
We stood up, eyes narrowing as we tried to make sense of the chaos.
Then—
A beam of light from a DJ lamp swept across the scene and landed directly on the one being pulled.
My heart dropped.
Jake.
He looked visibly distressed, trying to pull his hand back. A woman beside him—someone I didn't know—was attempting to free him, but it wasn't working.
I didn't think.
I slammed back my shot glass and made my way to their table.
"I'm sorry," I said, loud enough for the whole section to hear,
"but this one's taken."
I reached out, pried Jake's wrist from the man's grip, and pulled him gently behind me. My body instinctively placed itself between him and the threat.
Raven wasn't far behind. He stepped in just as quickly, drawing the woman away from the tension and shielding her behind him.
Then I heard it.
"Ahh… it's you again,"
the man said, tone familiar. Too familiar.
Jake stiffened behind me.
"You should back down now, Alex,"
came a voice from behind.
I didn't turn. I just kept my eyes on Alex.
"You seriously want me to believe this guy's your boyfriend?"
Alex scoffed, eyes narrowing at Jake.
Then he took a step forward.
"Just drop the act, Jake. Come back to me. Please." He begged to Jake by reaching his hand out towards Jake. Jake denied the hands and too a step behind me as if he was asking me to protect him from Alex.
I took a step forward.
"I thought I made myself clear that day..." I took a pause so Alex can recall everything. "The person standing behind me? He's mine."
Alex scoffed.
"I know you're just putting on an act." He looked straight into Jake's eyes. "Jake, I won't be like before—I'll change. Just come back to me. I'll take care of you."
I'd heard enough.
His words weren't love—they were control, dressed in sweet poison.
So I pulled Jake gently from behind me and positioned him in front of me.
"Shall we end this for good?"
I asked, my voice low but firm.
Jake looked at me, confusion flickering in his eyes. Like he was trying to read mine—trying to understand what I was about to do.
I didn't give him time.
I stepped closer. One hand found the small of his back, the other gently cupped his cheek, brushing his hair as my thumb traced the corner of his jaw.
I leaned in.
Closed my eyes.
And kissed him.
Soft at first.
Slow.
My lips moving over his—not rushed, not desperate—just… sure.
He gasped slightly, eyes wide, but he didn't pull away.
He parted his lips, inviting me in.
I didn't rush it. I didn't need to.
I let my lips move against his, again and again—patient, steady, like I was trying to tell him something with every touch:
You're safe. I'm here. He can't hurt you anymore.
When I finally pulled back, I waited.
Waited for his eyes to open.
Waited to see if I'd gone too far.
If I'd scared him… or if he felt what I did.
His eyes opened slowly—and in them, I saw something that stunned me.
He wanted more.
His face tilted toward mine, lips barely apart. And just as he leaned in—his body gave out.
He collapsed softly into my arms.