The air was thick with tension as a tall figure walked slowly down a dark hallway, his footsteps echoing with every step. The quiet was almost unnerving, like the silence before a storm. He reached a door at the end, pausing for just a moment. He entered without a word.
Inside, a man sat, his feet propped up on the table, a glass of drink resting in his hand. As he noticed the newcomer, his face softened into a small smirk. Without taking his eyes off him, he calmly said, "Sir… we've found the one you're looking for."
The man's expression remained cold, and his gaze narrowed. "Location?"
"Road T52," the informant replied, his voice carrying a trace of nervousness as he stood, clearly knowing the gravity of the situation.
The man didn't flinch. He turned and began walking towards the door, already thinking about the next move. As he was about to step out, the informant hesitated and asked cautiously, "Sir… should I come with you?"
The man stopped, his voice quiet but firm. "James, don't mistake this. I'm meeting my most trusted enemy, the one who's been a shadow in my life for too long. I don't need you for this. I go alone."
He didn't wait for a response, just continued walking out to his car, his thoughts a mixture of anticipation and resentment. Tonight, it would all come to a head.
__
The room is quiet, the soft hum of music filling the air. A girl was alone in her space, wears a pair of headphones, lost in the rhythm of her movements. Her body sways effortlessly to the beat, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. Her face is relaxed, free from the world outside. She twirls lightly, her eyes closed in pure enjoyment, her feet tapping lightly on the floor.
Suddenly, there's a sharp knock at the door. At first, she doesn't notice, her attention still caught by the song, her body moving almost instinctively. But the knock comes again, louder this time, and her expression shifts. Her eyes flutter open, the joy in her face replaced by a mild confusion.
She takes off the headphones, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she walks toward the door. Her steps are measured, but there's a slight unease in the way her fingers linger on the doorknob, as if bracing herself for something unexpected.
When she opens the door, she's met by the warm presence of her father. His face is gentle, his smile full of care. He's a man in his mid-40s, wearing a shirt that's slightly wrinkled from the day's work. There's a certain softness in his eyes, yet an unspoken concern lingers in his gaze.
"Isabella," he says, his voice low, almost soft. "What were you doing? I've been calling you for dinner."
Isabella blinks a few times, realizing she was lost in her own world. Her cheeks flush a little with embarrassment. She rubs the back of her neck, trying to hide the awkwardness. "Just... dancing, dad," she says, her voice a little hesitant, but trying to sound casual. "I'll be right there."
Her father chuckles softly, his hand coming up to ruffle her hair affectionately. "I hope you're not dancing away from your dinner." There's a warmth in his touch that reassures her, yet Isabella can't shake the feeling of being distant, as if the room between them is growing larger despite the closeness.
She watches him turn away, but just before he walks off, his voice stops her.
"Isabella," he says, his tone a bit firmer now, "Don't forget to eat something. You're looking a bit thin these days."
She gives a soft smile, her eyes momentarily looking down in thought. "I will, dad. Promise," she says, but the words feel like an automatic response. There's a distance, an invisible gap she can't explain.
As her father disappears around the corner, Isabella takes a deep breath, her hand hovering over her phone. She notices the battery is almost dead, Suddenly her phone buzzes, and she sees a message from someone named Kai. She picks it up with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's texting her now.
As she opens the message, the screen reads: "Kai."
A bit confused, she answers the phone. On the other side, she hears a sharp voice.
"Did you forget it's Eve's birthday today?" Kai's voice sounds annoyed, his words clipped.
Isabella quickly apologizes, "Oh... I didn't... I mean, I didn't forget. I just... was busy."
Kai's tone hardens, "Don't make excuses. Hurry up. We've arranged everything for the party at the 'Night Bar'. Don't be late."
The call ends abruptly, and Isabella stands there for a moment, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. She hurries to get ready, and when she checks the time, she sees it's already 9:30 PM. With a sigh, she heads downstairs.
Her father looks at her with surprise as she passes by. "Where are you going? You haven't eaten yet."
She replies casually, "Dad, it's Eve's birthday. I'm heading to the Night Bar."
"Alright," her father says, his concern is not quite hidden. "But make sure you eat something."
Isabella doesn't hear him as she hurries out the door, saying, "I'll eat there. Bye, dad."
Her father shakes his head, muttering to himself.
___
Isabella walks down the darkened street, her heels clicking against the pavement. The night air is cool, and the city around her is eerily quiet. She tries to hail a cab, but the taxis keep passing by, oblivious to her attempts. Frustration builds up as the minutes tick by, and she feels a growing sense of panic—she's already running late.
Her phone buzzes again, and she pulls it out to see the battery icon flashing red. She curses under her breath. The phone's about to die, and she doesn't even have time to find a charger. She shoves the phone back into her bag, deciding to walk instead.
She heads down the empty road, trying not to let the quiet unnervingly swallow her. The path feels longer tonight. Her breath comes in short gasps, and she can't help but glance nervously around at the shadows. The road seems to stretch endlessly, with no sign of life. The only sound is the occasional rustle of wind and the faint hum of the city in the distance.
A few more minutes pass, and Isabella starts to feel the weight of the situation—her thoughts circling back to the strange and tense phone call with Kai. What was that about? Why had he been so sharp with her? Her heart races as she pushes herself to keep moving, even though her feet feel like lead.
Suddenly, a figure appears ahead. It's a group of boys—drunk, laughing loudly, swaying unsteadily as they stagger down the street. Isabella's stomach tightens, and she instinctively picks up her pace, her mind racing. She wishes she hadn't decided to walk. The road is empty, and the boys' eyes shift toward her, scanning her like a predator.
One of them smirks, clearly noticing how she looks, her dress glowing faintly under the streetlights. The others follow his gaze. Isabella tries to stay calm, but her pulse quickens. They're getting closer now, their voices growing louder, filled with mocking laughter.
She keeps walking, hoping they'll lose interest, but the sound of footsteps behind her is unmistakable. She can feel them drawing closer, their words too vulgar to ignore. They're not just watching—they're toying with the idea of approaching her.
Without warning, one of them reaches out, grabbing her arm roughly. Isabella jerks back in surprise, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Hey, pretty girl. Where you going in such a hurry?" he slurs, his breath heavy with alcohol. the group of boys encircled Isabella, one of them stepped closer, a smug grin on his face. Isabella felt her heart race, panic setting in as she realized the situation was slipping out of control. The weight of the moment pressed down on her chest, and she struggled to breathe. Her vision blurred, her mind spiraling into a whirlwind of fear. She tried to steady herself, but every breath seemed shallow, every exhale a battle. The noise around her grew muffled as the panic attack gripped her.
Her body trembled, her breath hitching in her throat, each inhale coming harder than the last. The anxiety clawed at her, tightening her chest, leaving her gasping for air. She couldn't think straight; everything felt distant, like she was losing control of her own body. Her mind screamed for escape. But before she could take another faltering step, one of the boys stepped forward, a cruel grin playing on his lips. "Relax, sweetheart," he mocked, reaching out to grab her arm. "It's going to be fun."
Another boy snickered, emboldened by her visible fear. He leaned in close, his lips curving into a smirk as he whispered, "Let's make this night memorable, huh?" Just as he moved in to kiss her, an arm shot out from behind him, gripping his wrist with enough force to make him wince.
The boy yelped and turned around, his confidence vanishing instantly. Standing there was a tall man, dressed sharply in dark clothes that seemed to blend with the shadows of the night. His presence was commanding, his expression cold and emotionless. His piercing, deadly eyes flicked over the group of boys, who suddenly found themselves frozen under his gaze.
"Leave," the man said, his voice low and chilling. Then, after a brief pause, he added with quiet menace, "Or die."
There was no hesitation, no loud threats, just a cold promise of what would happen if they didn't comply. It was in the way he spoke, in the way his eyes burned with quiet fury, that made it clear he wasn't bluffing.
The boys looked at each other, their bravado crumbling as fear settled into their expressions. None of them dared to challenge him. Without another word, they turned and bolted, disappearing into the darkness, leaving Isabella trembling and breathless.
Isabella was still trembling from the panic attack when she slowly turned her gaze towards him. Her vision was still hazy, but as her eyes focused on the figure in front of her, she noticed his sharp jawline, his piercing blue eyes that seemed as cold and lifeless as ice, and his defined nose and lips—features that could only be described as unnervingly handsome. He stood motionless, emotionless, staring at her without so much as a blink, his presence commanding and almost suffocating.
In a shaky voice, Isabella stammered, "Th-thank you…"
He didn't acknowledge her gratitude. Instead, his cold, detached voice broke through the silence, sharp as a blade. "What business does a girl like you have, wandering alone on this road?"
Isabella hesitated, about to answer, but before she could, he cut her off again, his tone laced with an air of mockery. "You look like you're from a respectable family. So what exactly are you doing here?"
Annoyance flickered in her chest despite the lingering fear. Forcing herself to steady her voice, she replied, "I was just trying to get to the club, but I couldn't find a taxi, so—"
He didn't let her finish. Without sparing her another glance, he turned on his heel and began walking toward his car, his steps deliberate and unfazed. Isabella watched in confusion and mild disbelief. She'd never met anyone this strange before.
He stopped by the driver's side door but didn't get in immediately. Instead, he stood there, his back to her, and said in that same cold, commanding tone, "Get in. I'll drop you. Fast!"
The suddenness of his offer made Isabella freeze for a moment. She stared at him, her brow furrowing slightly in surprise. Who was this man? But then she glanced around at the dark, empty road and the creeping shadows, her fear of being stranded outweighing her hesitation. Without another word, she hurried toward the car and slipped into the back seat.
As soon as she shut the door, the car roared to life. The man settled into the driver's seat, still not looking at her, his expression unreadable.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his tone devoid of any warmth.
Isabella didn't respond immediately, her thoughts still a jumbled mess from everything that had happened. "Huh?" she finally muttered, lost in her own world.
The man let out a sharp sigh, his irritation barely concealed. "Are you deaf? I asked, where are you going?"
His rudeness snapped her out of her daze. Shooting him a glare from the back seat, she replied, "The bar....night bar"
He didn't respond, nor did his expression change. Without another word, he started driving, his focus fixed entirely on the road ahead.
The silence in the car was almost deafening. Isabella sat stiffly in the back, staring out of the window, unsure of what to say or even if she should say anything. His cold, rude demeanor unnerved her. For the first time in a long while, someone had left her completely speechless.
The rest of the drive passed in complete silence, the tension thick in the air. She didn't dare ask him anything, and he didn't offer a single word. The only sound was the low hum of the engine, carrying them through the empty streets under the blanket of night.
____
After a few moments of silent driving, the man abruptly stopped the car in front of a bar. Without sparing a glance, he coldly ordered, "Get out."
Isabella, caught off guard by his abruptness, felt a rush of irritation flood over her. She was tired of his rude attitude and the strange silence between them. "I don't have any intention of staying in your car," she retorted, frustrated. Without another word, she opened the door, stepped out, and moved toward the driver's side. Standing beside his window, she seethed, "And thanks for nothing, huh?" Then, with a sharp motion, she turned and walked toward the entrance of the bar.
The man, visibly annoyed, muttered under his breath as he started the car again. "Stupid girl, wasting my time," he grumbled, but he didn't look at her as he drove off.
As the car pulled away, Isabella stood there for a moment, still boiling with anger. But her thoughts started to shift as she recalled how she had reacted earlier when those boys had teased her. In that moment, she remembered how he had stepped in to stop them, his cold but firm presence a stark contrast to the chaos she felt inside.
___
He was heading towards his destination again, his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. While driving, his mind wandered back to the moment when those boys had teased Isabella. He could still hear their laughter in his head, and as he drove down the road, he thought of her—struggling to breathe. The image of her gasping for air flashed in his mind. For a brief second, he just stared ahead, his face blank, his expression unreadable. It was almost as if he were frozen for that moment. Then, something clicked in his mind, like a sudden realization. I need to save her.
He continued driving, his foot pressing down harder on the pedal. But his mind remained distant, distracted, lost in the memory. Was it frustration, or something deeper, pulling him? It was hard to say. The thought of Isabella's struggle tugged at him, but he drove on, the road blurring as his mind wandered.
A memory from his childhood flickered to the surface. He was just 12 years old, walking back from school. The streets were quiet, the sun sinking low in the sky. And then he saw a 7-year-old girl standing in the middle of the road, her breath coming in ragged gasps, panic etched on her face. He could hear her struggling for air, her chest rising and falling erratically.
A large, growling dog stood in front of her, blocking her path. She was frozen, unable to move, too terrified to react. Without thinking, he rushed forward, his hands gripping a stick lying nearby. He swung it at the dog, knocking it away just enough for the girl to step back, gasping for breath.
He stood there for a moment, watching her catch her breath, unsure of what to do next. His heart pounded, but his face remained expressionless, just like it did now when emotions threatened to surface. He had saved her, but it hadn't been enough to stop the turmoil inside him.
Snapping back to the present, he took a long breath, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel as he fought to focus. The car hummed beneath him, the road unfolding ahead. But the weight of his thoughts lingered.
Suddenly, he stopped, his foot pressing the brake hard. The car jerked to a halt, and for a moment, his head dropped. He took a slow, deep breath, a soft sigh escaping his lips. His shoulders tensed as the moment passed, but he didn't let the emotion show. Slowly, he raised his head, his face once again blank and emotionless. With one last steadying breath, he continued driving, the mask of indifference firmly in place.
____
Isabella stormed into the bar, her face flushed with anger and frustration. Miso, seeing her enter, couldn't help but tease her, "Did you get lost on the way, or was it just so late?"
Isabella shot back, her voice dripping with irritation, "No... I couldn't get a taxi, that's why I had to walk all the way here. And then someone dropped me off."
Noticing Isabella's upset expression, Eve, who was sitting nearby, walked up to her, his tone softening with concern. "Are you okay? You look like something's bothering you."
Isabella glanced at Eve, then quickly said with a half-smile, "Happy birthday..."
Eve couldn't help but laugh and replied warmly, "Thank you!"
Tessa, eager to move on, jumped in, "Okay, guys... let's cut the cake, shall we?"
Everyone cheered, "Yooohh!" They gathered around and cut the cake, with Eve taking the first slice. He fed Isabella first, and then made sure to serve the rest.
They all sat down at the table, and Luna, with a mischievous glint in her eye, suggested, "Alright, guys, for Eve's party... let's play Truth or Dare?"
The others eagerly agreed, "Yeah, sure!"
The game began, and the bottle spun until it landed on Eve. Everyone cheered him on. Miso, with a mischievous smile, leaned in, "Okay, Eve... Truth or dare?"
Eve paused for a moment, then said, "Hmm... I think I'll go with truth."
Miso, teasing, asked, "Alright then... who's your crush?"
Eve's cheeks flushed, and the group immediately started to tease him, "Ouuu, Eve's blushing! Tell us who's the lucky girl?"
Eve shifted uncomfortably, still blushing, and shyly replied, "She's... right here, right now."
Everyone turned their attention toward him. "Who is she? Come on, tell us!"
Eve blushed deeper, his voice shaky as he said, "I... I won't say. You asked, but I told you. She's here... that's enough."
The group decided to drop the subject, and the game continued. As everyone else spun the bottle, Eve briefly glanced at Isabella, his eyes lifting up to meet hers. He smiled, a secretive expression on his face, as if no one else could see.
Suddenly, Miso leaned forward, breaking the moment. "By the way, who dropped you off? Do you know him? Is he a guy or a girl? Was he handsome?"
As soon as she spoke, her mind raced back to the face she had seen earlier. The memory of those sharp jawlines, dead blue eyes, and soft lips flashed through my mind. The memory of his rude behavior, followed by his cold "Get out" still stung. Her face grew hot with anger, and she muttered under my breath, "Forget it. That bastard... what an asshole."