The bar was dim, low jazz playing in the background, glasses clinking every now and then. Leo leaned back in his chair, his hand around a glass of whiskey that caught the warm light. He swirled it lazily, the ice tapping against the glass, his eyes sharp as they flicked between Casper and Zion.
"What's this important thing you two wanted to tell me?" His tone was cold, deliberate. He wasn't the type to waste nights out unless there was something worth hearing.
Casper, for once, didn't look drunk. He was serious, his lips pressed tight. Zion nodded at him as though to give him courage.
"It's Alan," Casper finally said.
Leo's brows drew together. "Alan?"
"Yeah." Casper cleared his throat, his eyes darting around before meeting Leo's again. "After that… uncle and aunty's incident, he's been acting strange. Different. And whenever we ask him to hang out, he refuses. Every time."
