Masuk
001: Meeting Him Again
JORDAN POV
I glared at my reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror of Neon Pulse, fury and hurt etched across my face. My hands clenched into tight fists as I stared down at the damage the wine had done to my shirt.
The crimson stains spread across the fabric like a map of chaos, a constant reminder of my life here at this suffocating club.
A wave of loathing washed over me. I hated this city and its choking grip, draining the life out of me. My own existence felt like a sham—a never-ending cycle of disappointment. My family had become a constant source of frustration.
And this job… I hated every single minute spent at Neon Pulse: the pretentious boss, the backstabbing colleagues, the mind-numbing routine, and the damn horny bastards who patronized the place.
I hated how every client saw me as nothing more than entertainment. To them, I was just a distraction, a plaything for their amusement.
My role as a server had been reduced to eye candy. It wasn’t their fault, though—it was my family’s fault for abandoning me to these beasts. Or maybe it was all my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have been born. Or maybe I shouldn’t have come out to them.
Perhaps if I’d stayed closeted, things would have been different.
"Get out of this house, Jordan. Don’t ever dare think of coming back into this family until you rid yourself of your homosexual tendencies and lead a morally upright life."
My father’s words from that night still twisted my stomach with anger and disgust.
"I hate them! I fucking hate them so much," I breathed out, my chest tightening with raw hurt.
My hands trembled, and my ankles buckled beneath me. I gripped the faucet for support. My breath hitched, eyes burning with unshed tears as the memory replayed in my head.
"Don’t touch me, Jordan."
"Leave and don’t contact me until you’ve become normal again."
"I refuse to accept you for who you’re not supposed to be. I don’t want a gay child."
My mother’s voice rang in my mind like a shard of glass piercing my chest. No matter how many years had passed, the memory stayed fresh. Each time I recalled how my family turned their backs on me, I couldn’t help wondering how things might have been different if they’d accepted me for who I am.
"Fuck!" I groaned, turning on the tap. I scooped water into my palms and splashed it over my face, gritting my teeth as the image of my twin brother, Ethan, flashed through my mind.
"Jordan, I’m sorry, but please just comply with their demands. You can try to be with girls. Maybe this is just a phase."
"This isn’t the brother I know. This can never be you."
"No." A deep grunt rumbled through my chest as I shook my head slowly. "No!" I barked, letting the water slip from my joined palms. I punched the wall.
"This is who I am! This is who I fucking am!"
I yelled angrily, shoulders jerking back as I clenched my hands tightly at my sides.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I could barely recognize the face looking back.
"This isn’t just a phase. This is who I am, and this is who I’ve always been." I yelled at my reflection, pretending it was my brother glaring back at me.
As identical twins, Ethan and I shared an uncanny resemblance. But that’s where the similarities ended. He embodied excellence—intelligence, compassion, dedication. I, on the other hand, had forged a reputation as the black sheep of the family: impulsive, flawed, perpetually disappointing.
"You’ve always been the favored one, basking in Mom and Dad’s unwavering love and approval," I spat, words laced with venom. "You’ve never had to sacrifice your identity to—"
A sudden bang on the door made me flinch, the thug’s fist crashing against it.
"Come out, sweet pea," he taunted in a low, menacing tone that sent shivers down my spine. "You think you can hide forever? Think again."
His voice dripped with sinister intent, making my heart race.
"Damn it," I muttered, voice barely audible. My hand trembled as I grasped the doorknob, hesitating. Should I open it or not?
I heard fading murmurs of voices and receding footsteps from the hallway. My ears perked up.
Huh? Had he already left?
Heart pounding, I gently cracked the door open—and froze.
There stood the last person I thought I’d ever see again. My eyes widened in stunned surprise. A fiery blush spread across my cheeks. I sank my teeth into my lower lip, gaze locking onto his piercing dark eyes.
The air thickened as our eyes met. I swallowed hard, throat constricting.
"Hi," I managed, the word barely a whisper.
His lips curled into a sly smirk, and my mouth went dry, leaving me breathless.
NEW YORK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – VIP SECTIONThe moment Tate McDonald stepped onto the tarmac, a collective gasp rippled through the waiting crowd. SHe moved like liquid gold—sequined jumpsuit shimmering under the lights, each step a practiced sway that screamed stage presence and red-carpet royalty.Tate McDonald—rebellious solo singer, ex-member of Golden Echo.The only girl in the group .The reason for her dismissal from the group remained a mystery, but her solo career had only made her more magnetic.Beside him walked Liam Braun, her fiancé, a renowned actor. They moved slowly, soaking in the chaos.Cameras flashed like lightning. Shouts erupted.“Tate! Liam! Are the engagement rumors true?”“New album, Tate—what’s the inspiration?”“Tate, you’re my favorite! Love you! That jumpsuit is fire!”Tate held Liam’s arm possessively, leaning in to whisper, “I missed this. The attention. The recognition.”“Can we just live a normal life and forget about your revenge against your old grou
KAI’S ROOMKai sat upright the moment he heard a car pull into the driveway.His heart slammed against his ribs.He’s here.He jumped off the bed, smoothing his oversized hoodie nervously, rushing to the mirror. His cheeks were pale, eyes hollow from hours of waiting, but hope lit them up.The doorbell rang.Kai froze.Downstairs, the door opened.Leonard stepped in first—tall, composed, unreadable. Behind him stood Jaxon.“Leo…” Kai breathed, rushing forward and wrapping his arms around him tightly.Leonard stiffened for half a second, then placed a careful hand on Kai’s back—controlled, distant.“I missed you,” Kai whispered. His gaze flickered to Jaxon, then he flashed a small smile. “Thank you.”“Anything for you,” Jaxon winked, climbing the stairs and heading to his room.They moved into the living room. Kai talked nonstop—about missing him, how empty everything felt. Leonard listened, nodding occasionally, but his eyes kept drifting… to a large framed photo of Jaxon on the wall.
Jaxon froze for a heartbeat, eyes locked on Leonard. He scanned the CEO’s face—searching for a smirk, a twitch, anything that said this was a joke.All he found was dead seriousness.“Are you sure you don’t need a doctor? You might be sick for asking that,” Jaxon said, brows knotted as he leaned back in the chair. “Kai is your boyfriend. Treat him like one. He’s my best friend—I can’t watch him this depressed.”“If you’re not ready to agree to my condition, use the door,” Leonard replied coldly, nodding toward it.“Leo… I’ve never begged anyone for anything in my life, but please come see Kai,” Jaxon said sincerely.“Repeat what you just said,” Leonard ordered.“I’ve never begged anyone for anything in my life, but please come see Kai,” Jaxon repeated with an eye roll.“Before that.”“Leo,” Jaxon blinked.The nickname hit Leonard like a spark. Why did it sound so damn good coming from Jaxon’s mouth? His eyes darkened.“If you don’t agree to my condition, don’t bother trying to convinc
006: I'm Going to Spank Your Ass**Damien Voss**"It's definitely his place," Dominic confirmed, voice booming from the other end.I nodded, phone still pressed to my ear. I brought the cigarette closer, took a long drag, and exhaled smoke out the window."Good. Leave Russell's boy to me and keep your eyes on the feds," I ordered, voice husky as ever."Yes, boss."I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the stack of papers on the passenger seat.With internal threats neutralized and turncoats held accountable, calm settled in—an unusual idleness that left me restless. I craved action, the next adrenaline rush.I'd had to change everything overnight. I'd wanted this mess with Chief Russell over quickly, but the paperwork dragged on, making me want to stretch it out forever. I could have fun with this while I shoved that bastard fed in his place.That's what brought me here—to Jordan Hayes's apartment. Gawking at his front door like a weirdo.I could have had Dominic drag the boy ove
005: Hi, Boyfriend!**Jordan Hayes**After the call with Ethan, I felt increasingly restless, unable to shake the unease that kept me awake and made sleep impossible.Ethan's revelation about the Voss family nearly shooting Dad had already unsettled me, but his hasty goodbye—without elaborating on the cryptic "something happened"—sent my imagination racing. The deafening silence from my brother afterward only deepened the worry.When I left home three years ago, my only concern had been avoiding anything that might worry my family. Ironically, I now found myself consumed by worries about their well-being.As I stood frozen in the middle of the living room, phone clutched in my hand, my mind raced with questions. One kept looping: "What have I done?"A sudden knock at the door sent me recoiling in terror. My heart hammered, eyes wide with alarm. I froze, paralyzed by fear, gaze fixed on the door, unable to step closer.Oh God, what if it's the Voss family? What if they've come to fini
Damien Voss POV The sound of my baseball bat cracking against skull was deafening. Bones shattered, bits of brain and blood stuck to the metal—my favorite weapon. I twirled it once, wrinkling my nose at the sight of hair and skull fragments clinging to the steel.My phone's ringtone pierced the air, drowning out the groans and grunts of the man at my feet. I paused to glance at the mess of bodies littering the unfinished building's floor. Fifteen corpses, each one my doing. I was fucking proud of myself."You stay right here," I growled at the whimpering man, stepping over him to pick up the call.There was no point telling him to wait—he couldn't get up even if he wanted to. I'd already separated both his legs from his body; what remained was a ruined mess.I walked to the third-floor window, propping my elbow on the sill. Blood dripped from my hand as I pulled the phone from my pocket.A deep grunt rumbled in my chest when I saw the caller: Mr. Dominic Bianchi. Fucking traitor."D







