Jamie Notices the Scar

Jamie noticed the scar because he was trying not to notice everything else. The bar was loud in that half-hearted way—music turned up but not committed, laughter skidding along the surface of conversations, glasses clinking like punctuation marks nobody respected. It was a Friday. It always felt like a Friday, even when it wasn’t. The kind of night that stretched people thin and made them careless.

Jamie moved through it on instinct. Pour, slide, smile, step back. Don’t look at the corner booth. He failed almost immediately. Adrian was there again, sleeves rolled to his elbows, jacket nowhere in sight. Luca hovered nearby, pretending to be interested in the back wall. Lily sat across from Adrian tonight, posture rigid, chin lifted, smile sharp in a way that didn’t reach her eyes.

Jamie felt the tension before he understood it. He approached the table because that was his job. Because avoidance would only draw attention. Because his feet carried him there before his brain finished arguing.

“Can I get you anything?” Jamie asked, voice even. Lily didn’t look at him. “Another martini.” Adrian glanced up. Their eyes met. Jamie felt it like a shift in gravity. “Whiskey,” Adrian said. “Neat.” Jamie nodded and turned away. He could feel Lily’s gaze on his back, assessing, dismissive, curious in a way that made his shoulders tighten.

At the bar, Evan leaned in. “She hates you.” Jamie snorted. “I don’t even know her.”

“She knows you,” Evan said. “That’s worse.” Jamie grabbed the drinks and returned to the table. He set Lily’s martini down first, then Adrian’s whiskey. As he did, Adrian’s sleeve rode up just enough. Jamie froze.

It was faint. Pale against olive skin. A line that curved along the inside of Adrian’s forearm, thin but deliberate, like it hadn’t been an accident. Like it had been earned. Jamie’s breath hitched before he could stop it.

Adrian noticed. Of course he did. His gaze dropped to where Jamie was looking. For a split second, something unreadable crossed his face…. something tight and guarded. Then his expression smoothed out, the mask sliding back into place. Jamie straightened too quickly. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Adrian asked. “Nothing,” Jamie said. Too fast. He stepped back, pulse hammering. Lily finally looked at him then. Her eyes flicked from Jamie’s face to Adrian’s arm, then back. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You should be careful,” she said coolly. Jamie blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Staring,” Lily continued. “It’s rude.” Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Lily.” She ignored him. “Some things aren’t meant for public consumption.” Jamie felt heat crawl up his neck. “I wasn’t….”

“Enough,” Adrian said quietly. The word cut through the air. Lily stiffened. “I didn’t mean….” she began.“I know,” Adrian said. His gaze didn’t leave Jamie. “But you’re done.” Lily stared at him, disbelief flashing across her face. “Adrian….”

“You’re done,” he repeated. Silence fell, sharp and uncomfortable. Lily’s hand tightened around her glass. She looked at Jamie like she wanted to peel him open and see what was inside. Then she stood. “I’ll be in the car,” she said, voice clipped. She didn’t look at Jamie again.

The moment she was gone, the air shifted. Jamie released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I should go,” Jamie muttered. Adrian shook his head. “Stay.”

“I’m working.”

“Yes,” Adrian said. “And I’m drinking.” Jamie hesitated, then stayed where he was, fingers curling around the edge of the table. His eyes betrayed him again, flicking back to Adrian’s arm, the scar. Up close, it was clearer. Not deep, but precise. Like it had been cut cleanly and healed badly. Old, but not ancient.

“What happened?” Jamie asked before he could stop himself. Adrian’s gaze sharpened. “You shouldn’t ask that.” Jamie swallowed. “Then you shouldn’t show it.” Adrian’s mouth twitched. “I didn’t.”

“You rolled your sleeves up.”

“Because it’s hot.” Jamie snorted softly. “That’s a lie.” Adrian studied him for a long moment. “You always call me out?”

“Only when people lie to me.”

“And if I don’t answer?” Jamie shrugged. “Then I stop asking.” Adrian leaned back slightly, eyes never leaving Jamie’s. “It was a knife.” Jamie’s stomach dropped. “Oh.”

“Not here,” Adrian added. He tapped his forearm lightly. “Elsewhere.” Jamie nodded, unsure what to say. He felt a strange mix of curiosity and something dangerously close to concern. “Does it hurt?” he asked quietly. Adrian blinked. Just once. “No.”

“That wasn’t the question,” Jamie said. Adrian exhaled slowly. “Not anymore.” Jamie let that sit. He didn’t press. He didn’t pry. He surprised himself with that restraint. From the corner of his eye, he saw Luca watching them closely, expression unreadable.

“Your friend doesn’t like me,” Jamie said, nodding subtly toward him. Adrian glanced at Luca, then back. “He’s cautious.”

“About what?”

“About you.” Jamie laughed, incredulous. “Why?” Adrian’s gaze softened. “Because you matter.” Jamie’s chest tightened. “You keep saying that.”

“And you keep pretending it doesn’t affect you.” Jamie looked away. “I don’t like being important.” Adrian leaned forward slightly. “No one who grew up unnoticed does.” Jamie’s breath caught. He hadn’t told Adrian that. Not explicitly. Still, the words landed true.

“I should get back,” Jamie said, stepping away. Adrian nodded. “I’ll be here.” Jamie moved through the rest of his shift in a haze. The scar lingered in his mind, an image he couldn’t shake. It made Adrian feel more real somehow, less myth, more man.

When the bar finally emptied and the lights dimmed, Jamie found Adrian waiting near the door. “You walking home?” Adrian asked. Jamie hesitated. “Yeah.”

“Let me.” Jamie sighed. “You don’t have to.”

“I know.” They stepped into the night together, the city quieter now, stretched thin and watchful. As they walked, Jamie’s gaze drifted back to Adrian’s arm, barely visible beneath the streetlights. “That scar,” Jamie said softly. “It doesn’t scare me.” Adrian stopped.

Jamie turned, heart pounding. “I just wanted you to know.” Adrian studied him, something raw flickering behind his eyes. “It should.”

“Maybe,” Jamie said. “But it doesn’t.” Adrian stepped closer, close enough that Jamie could feel the warmth radiating off him. “That,” Adrian said quietly, “is exactly what scares me.” They stood there, suspended in the space between words and action, the city holding its breath around them.

And somewhere deep beneath the surface, La Corona Nera shifted, aware that something fragile and dangerous had just been seen and couldn’t be unseen.