[Gabriel's POV]
*At the Club*
The club was a world I didn't recognize. It was filled with celebrities, politicians' children, and people from high society. This was an exclusive, membership-only sanctuary owned by Seb's parents—the biggest names in the entertainment industry.
As we walked in, a wave of "Young Master" greetings followed Seb. It felt weird. To me, Seb was just the kid from my neighborhood, but here, he had a side I didn't know. A powerful side.
"Young master, you're here!" a group of guys greeted him.
"Yeah, bro. How are you? This is Gabriel, my friend, by the way." Seb started introducing me to names I knew I'd forget in five seconds. The music was so loud and the crowd so thick that my head began to spin. I feel like a ghost in here, haunting a party I wasn't invited to.
" My Brothers, come and get me, " I whispered to myself as Seb got pulled into a circle of socialites.
Eventually, Seb noticed my fading smile. " Sorry, Gaby. Let's get you a seat. "
He sat me at a vacant table and waved over a waiter. "My regular for me. And for him... just a juice. He's a good boy."
"I promised my brothers, Seb," I reminded him, clutching my phone.
"I know, I know. Just enjoy the vibe!"
But the "vibe" felt like a headache. Seb eventually got pulled to the dance floor, moving with a confidence I could never dream of. I watched him for a while, feeling that familiar sting of being 'the boring one'.
Eventually, Seb returned with a guy I didn't recognize. He looked worried. "Are you bored, Gab?"
"Don't worry, I'm okay. You can go back. That guy looks like your type," I whispered, nodding toward the man waiting for him.
"Are you sure? I have a room reserved upstairs. You can ask the bartender for the Master Key. I already told him. Want me to go with you?"
"I can manage, Seb. Go." I watched him walk away, but felt like he wasn't sure whether to go, so I just gave him my okay smile.
When he's gone again, I retreated to the bar counter. I was parched.
"Excuse me? Can I drink these?" I pointed to a row of vibrant, multi-colored glasses sitting on the counter. They looked like liquid jewels—sunset orange, deep violet, electric green.
"Sure, kid. Help yourself," the bartender said, distracted. I took a sip of the green one. It was sweet, like fruit, but it left a trail of fire down my throat. Wow. High-end juice is intense, I thought. By the third glass, the room started to tilt. By the fifth, the loud music started to sound like a lullaby.
"Another set... please," I giggled, leaning my head on the cool marble. "I'm Sebastian's friend. The... the vanilla one."
I saw the bartender add a clear drop of something to the glass.
"A little extra kick for the birthday boy," he winked. I drank it. And then, the world turned into a watercolor painting.
[ Caius POV]
F*ck my life.
Nobody told me my co-star for the new series was going to be Dianne. My ex. The woman who treated our breakup like a PR stunt.
I sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks, feeling the rage simmer under my skin. Then, there was the guy beside me.
"Is this fun, bro? Hic. I'm so boring... I'm just a plain... vanilla... hic." I glanced over. He was a mess. Messy bangs, thick glasses but wearing an expensive polo that doesn't go with his looks. He looked like he'd wandered out of a library and tripped into a den of tigers.
"Is this your friend?" I snapped at the bartender.
"This is a private club, not a daycare."
"He's with the Young Master, Mr. Vale. Sebastian Laurent brought him."
Ah. So Sebastian Laurent had a stray pet. I watched as the bartender handed the kid a master key. The kid shoved it into his pocket, nearly falling off his stool in the process.
Anyways, who cares about this kid? Then, I turned back to the room and saw her—Dianne. She was dancing with Reo, that talentless hack who called himself my rival. She caught my eye and pulled him closer, a smug smirk on her lips. She wanted a reaction. She wanted a scene.
Fine. Two can play that game, I thought, standing up. But a hand clamped onto my shirt.
"Hey... I gotta pee."
" What?"
" I want to pee. "
" And? What's that on me? " I ignored him, and I looked at the dance floor again, but didn't see Dianne anymore.
" Hey! I need to go now. Get off me. " I shake off that guy, but he falls, but he stands up again and grabs my shirt again.
" I want to pee," then he started fumbling with his belt.
" Woaahh. You can't do that here!."
" Hmmm..? " He stopped still holding his belt, and looked at me innocently.
" Gosh! Fine!" I grabbed his arm, dragging him towards the VIP restrooms. My chance to confront Dianne was gone.
I waited outside, leaning against the wall, annoyed. When he finally stumbled out, he didn't even look at me. He just walked past like I was a piece of furniture.
"Hey! Kid!"
He stopped, turned, and looked me up and down. Then, he rolled his eyes and kept walking.
Did he just roll his eyes at me? At Caius Vale? I was about to let him go when he suddenly face-planted. He hit the floor like a flat frog. I couldn't help it—I laughed. It was the most honest thing I'd seen all night. I walked over and picked up his glasses.
"Here. You dropped these." I helped him up, and suddenly, he lunged, hugging me for support. Our faces were inches apart. His glasses were off, his bangs swept to the side.
I froze.
His eyes were... breathtaking. Deep, expressive, and framed by lashes that had no business being on a "plain" guy.
For a second, I forgot my name. Then, he pushed off me, bumped his head against a wall, and proceeded to just... lie down on the floor.
"Hey! You can't sleep there!" No response. I groaned, checking the hallway for cameras. If someone saw me with a passed-out kid, my career was over. I checked his pocket, found the key for Room 7, and hauled him upstairs.
Here it is-room 7.
" Hey, give me the card."
" Hmm... " He is not responding clearly, so I just get it in his pocket.
We entered the room, and I dropped him onto the king-sized bed. He was flushed, his skin damp with sweat, breathing heavily.
" You okay? You want water? "
" Hot." He rasped. "So hot. "
I looked at his empty eyes. Damm it. The bartender must have spiked his juice.
"Hmmm, Mister. It's really hot, " he said, so I touched his cheek and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"You need a cold shower, kid. Stay there. " I turned to put my watch and wallet on the table, but a force slammed into my back. Before I could react, I was pushed down onto the sofa.
Suddenly, there was a weight on my lap. He was sitting there, straddling me, his fingers trembling as they clutched my jacket. He looked down at me, those sexy, drug-hazed eyes begging for something he didn't understand.
He took my hand and pressed it against his burning cheek.
"Mister..." he whispered, leaning closer until I could taste the sweetness on his breath.
"Please. Touch me again."