Jason stepped into his penthouse, the soft thud of the door closing behind him cutting off the noise from the city below. He let out a long, frustrated sigh, running a hand through his damp hair.
The place wasn't bad—not high-class like the multi-million dollar estates he was used to, but better than most.
Minimalistic, clean, quiet.
But it lacked the shine, the luxury that usually surrounded him.
It felt...too normal.
And sometimes that was the point.
The penthouse was a far cry from the chaos of his old life.
The parties, the drugs, the fake friends who clung to him like parasites.
He could almost hear the echo of laughter that wasn't really happy, see the haze of smoke that used to hang in the air of those high-end clubs and private lounges.
He clenched his fists, the memory of it all tightening around his chest like a claw.
