The rain was still pouring when I sat down on one of the chairs outside the convenience store.
After my performance, everyone had showered me with compliments. I knew some of it was probably because they were drunk, but it still lingered with me longer than I expected. That attention faded quickly, though, once Elara excused herself for a smoke—and Christina followed her without a second thought.
The others started talking among themselves. From what I could gather, the two of them had dated before and broken up not too long ago. After watching the way they behaved around each other, the staff seemed convinced it wouldn't be long before they got back together.
I didn't really understand the conversation.
I had never dated anyone before. Plenty of people had confessed to me over the years, but I had turned them all down. I had never had the luxury of a relationship. Because of that, I couldn't imagine what it felt like to think about an ex.
In any case, whether they had dated—or whether they would get back together—was none of my concern. I didn't think it was wise to gossip about other people behind their backs either. So I listened half-heartedly, then quietly drifted out of the conversation altogether.
Before I knew it, the party was over.
I made my way to the convenience store, only to notice a shadow forming in front of me. I looked up.
A strikingly beautiful woman stood there, holding a black umbrella that matched her outfit perfectly.
"Why are you here? Aren't you going home?"
"I was waiting for the rain to die down a bit," I replied. "I'll head back, then."
I wasn't sure why, but after the party, it felt easier to talk to her.
Maybe it was because I was still a little tipsy.
"What about you?" I asked. "Weren't you going to leave with the manager?"
Elara didn't answer.
Instead, she walked past me and into the convenience store, her steps steady and deliberate. Watching her, I was reminded of how she had ended our call without a word. It seemed she wasn't like that only on the phone.
Curious, I glanced up from my screen, just in time to see her pick up a pack of cigarettes. I quickly looked back down, pretending I hadn't noticed.
When she came back out, she sat down across from me.
I felt a flicker of surprise—and confusion—but I didn't say anything. Even so, just having her there was enough to break my concentration completely.
With a quiet sigh, I set my phone down. There was no point pretending to use it anymore.
That was when Elara slid a bottle toward me.
I looked up, meeting her gaze.
"Didn't you drink a lot?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I said. I had drunk quite a bit, but I wasn't intoxicated enough to feel any aftereffects now. And even if I were, I wouldn't waste money on a hangover cure. I would rather just endure it.
She didn't pull her hand back. Her eyes stayed on me, unwavering.
Seeing her like that, I found myself unable to refuse again.After a brief pause, I nodded quietly in thanks and took the drink.
"Is the job manageable?"
It was the second time she had asked me that.
"Yes. Everyone's kind."
"Of course." Elara took a cigarette from the pack and casually gestured toward me with it.
I shook my head and pointed toward the convenience store door, where the No Smoking sign was clearly visible.
She followed my gaze. A brief frown crossed her face, a shadow flickering there for just a moment, before she slid the cigarette back into the pack with visible reluctance.
Then she leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table and propping her face against her hand.
The posture pulled my thoughts back at the bar—how she had carried herself with the same effortless composure.
"Do you smoke?"
Maybe it really was her signature pose, I thought. Sitting like that, she looked striking—every angle of her face, every line, every feature fitting together so perfectly it almost felt deliberate, as though she were presenting the best version of herself on purpose. If anyone tried to look for a flaw in her, I was sure they would come up empty handed.
"No," I shook my head.
I couldn't afford something like that, and even if my circumstances ever changed, I doubted I would start. Cigarette smoke always left me unbearable. Choking, the nausea sharp enough that it felt like I might throw up at any moment.
"That's surprising for a drug dealer." She said with a smirk.
It wasn't the first time I had heard that.
People always assumed that because I was involved in the trade, I must be using the product too. I shook my head lightly and lifted my eyes to look at her.
"I don't do drugs."
"That can't be true."
She didn't sound amused. I understood why she didn't believe me—and I also knew that insisting wouldn't change her mind.
"Why would I? You know how hard it is to live as an omega, don't you?"
Her expression barely shifted. She just narrowed her eyes slightly, watching me in silence.
"But you're not an omega."
"No. But that drug, once you take it, it turns you into one. So tell me, why would I ever do that to myself?"
The corner of her lips lifted, just faintly.
Thinking I still hadn't made myself clear enough, I continued.
"My friend is an omega. I've seen what he goes through every single heat. Even with suppressants, it doesn't stop the pain. It's still unbearable."
I let the words hang between us, my gaze searching her face.
From what I had heard earlier at the bar, I already knew she was an alpha.
"I heard you're an alpha, Director. So you probably don't know what it feels like to be in heat."
I knew what an alpha's rut was like—at least, I knew enough. Even with my defect, even with my body functioning closer to a beta's, I understood the difference. No matter how difficult a rut could be, it would never compare to the torment of an omega's heat.
Time stretched on in silence.
I finished the last of my drink, the quiet between us growing heavier by the second. Neither of us spoke. The awkwardness settled in slowly, pressing down on me. I thought about leaving—but the rain outside was still relentless, hemming me in.
Without meaning to, my eyes drifted back to Elara.
No matter how many times I looked at her, the sense of awe didn't fade. Her beauty felt almost unreal. Every feature was sharp and refined, like something carved with deliberate care. She was tall and slender, yet there was a quiet strength in her posture that made her presence feel immovable.
And then the memory surfaced.
The way she had taken down that pig like man so effortlessly.
The image lingered in my mind longer than I expected.
"Director, do you work out?"