Page 42

Classes had been a repetitive drag with revision work that left me scrolling through emails more than paying attention. A few minor gigs trickled in, barely worth the effort, so I brushed them aside and turned to Selene. Pragmatic as ever, she laid out her expectations with dates and deadlines in crisp detail.

Yes, I took the job.

Phantom Productions is set to launch its first Halloween event on October 1st, complete with hedge mazes, a haunted house, scare actors, the works. And just as Lucas slurred in drunken triumph, I’ve scored two extra free passes. He got his wish after all.

And speaking of the devil, here he comes now.

“Ah, there he is,” Lucas sings, waltzing up to the car along with two strangers. “My chauffeur.”

“Hardly,” I mutter as I step out. The man looks fresher than a freshly squeezed nectarine, his hangover something of the past as he stands perched between two men—looking about his age, which is two years older than me—in formal attire, buttons already loosened at the top of their shirts. “Adrian, this is Ryan and Leo, the only two guys here who make this job tolerable.”

Ryan grins, eyes sharper than needles and hair brighter than tempered copper. “The infamous roommate. Heard a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” I reply placidly.

“Mostly,” he laughs, and I’m already bored with this conversation. Leo, the quieter one, scrolls on his phone. Dark hair and even darker epicanthal eyes glued to the screen, with no attempt to even greet me.

Ryan lets out a short laugh that fills the silence. “We were just talking about how hectic today’s been,” he claims, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “We all need a damn drink after this.”

He turns toward us, or more specifically toward me, and something in his expression firms into an invitation. “You two joining? I know a good spot.”

My body reacts before my mouth can, an instinctive recoil. A silent ‘fuck no’ echoes in my mind. I part my lips to decline, but Lucas breaks in. “Absolutely,” he announces. “We’re both in.”

I snap my head toward him. He ignores it with a shrug that screams, I already decided for you; deal with it. “It’s been a long day,” he adds, as if that justifies dragging me into social purgatory.

I grit my teeth. “I literally had to drag your drunk ass to bed last night,” I mutter, pitched low but loud enough for the rest to hear. Lucas scoffs in response, breezy and infuriating. “That was yesterday. Today’s a whole new day.”

“For bad choices,” I hiss under my breath.

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” Ryan laughs, all while throwing an arm around Leo, pulling him closer, and the guy winces, quickly tucking his phone into his pocket.

“We can’t have two antisocial pricks,” Ryan continues with his gaze now fixed on Leo. “Shit, one of you is enough.”

Leo forces a smile, stuffing his hands into his trousers. His posture screams uncomfortability, but he nods along regardless.

The three fall into conversation, and I watch and observe right up until the moment we fuck off to a dimly lit bar and washed-out neon signs. A few pool tables lined up in the back, their felt scarred from too many nights and too many men who needed to win something, most likely the attention of some girl in a miniskirt who has already decided she’s taking none of these men home, but here we are. The air hums with low music and worse intentions as my senses fill with the smell of cheap cigarettes and spilled beer.

I slide into a booth with them, the vinyl sticking faintly to my palms. Lucas orders and soon enough, four beers plop down on the table. His easy grin slips into place like muscle memory as he reaches for one.

He’s chaotic at best. Amani’s the one that keeps him tamed. My dynamic is strictly with the two of them together, not one or the other. There are exceptions from time to time, but I keep it brief. Hanging out with Lucas and his friends breaks that pattern, and I don’t like it.

Ryan raises his bottle with a grin. “Cheers to surviving another week of bug fixes and whatever the fuck that rollout mess was.”

“If I have to sit through one more Teams meeting, I’m rewriting the org chart myself. Full damn reset.” Lucas groans, and I note Leo’s absence from this conversation.

They laugh. I manage something that resembles one, sipping my beer that’s nothing but liquid noise on my tongue. I swallow it anyway—my cut-off is usually at three.

The conversation drifts to office misery, nightmare clients, a prank that apparently involved a stapler, duct tape, and HR’s impending wrath. Lucas is thriving, soaking in their attention like a plant that’s finally gotten water and sunlight after days of neglect. Leo sits half interested, swallowed by the abyss of his hair that bleeds into the shadows of the corner, half somewhere else, replying only when he feels like giving an input.

Nonetheless, he has a grin on his face now.

Then Ryan says mid-laughter, “Hey, speaking of, did you ever tell Adrian about that server stunt?”

Leo groans as if haunted. “God, don’t. He’ll start monologuing about hacking again.”

“Hacking?” I ask, one brow lifting, back almost completely swallowed by the fabric of the lounge, but I perch up, all while Lucas tries for innocent and nearly succeeds.

“They’re overreacting. I just… used to tinker. Game servers, firewalls, and bypasses. Nothing serious.”