Mein Gefährte ließ mich bei der Markierungszeremonie austauschen

I tore down the street, lungs burning like they were laced with acid, legs jelly-soft but somehow still moving. Fast. Faster. But not fast enough.

They were behind me again.

I could hear them—heavy boots pounding against wet pavement, splashing through puddles, voices sharp and brutal cutting through the night air.

“There! He went left!”

“Don’t let him get away!”

Three of them this time. I recognized the one with the buzz cut in a black leather jacket. He always seemed to be there. He looked like he belonged on the cover of some edgy fashion magazine, all chiseled jaw and too much cologne. But hot or not, he was still trying to ruin my life.

Why me? Why always me?

My name is Jayden Hart. I’m twenty-two years old. No parents. No family. No idea who I even really am. I’ve lived in Nocturne City since I was born—or at least, that’s what I assume. I don’t have any memories before I was five. That’s where everything starts for me. A blank slate before that. No birthdays, no bedtime stories, no baby pictures.

And ever since I turned fifteen, I’ve been hunted. By men like this. Always different, but somehow… the same. Tall, dressed in black, eyes scanning for me like I was a prize to be caught. And I’ve never committed a crime. Not one. Never stolen anything, never hurt anyone.

But somehow, I’ve always been running.

I left home at fifteen. No choice. Every time I went back, they found me. Kicked down doors. Chased me through alleyways. I started crashing in motels. Cheap ones. The kind with flickering lights and weird smells. I changed locations every few days, sometimes I risked a week. This time, I stayed seven days at Bratt Motel.

Mistake.

They found me. Again.

I took a hard left into a narrow alleyway. My shoulder scraped against a brick wall slick with grime and city grease. The stench of piss, rot, and old rain filled my nose. I hurdled over a busted crate and sent a trash can flying in my wake. A loud crash echoed behind me. One of them cursed—good. That bought me seconds. And seconds were everything.

I bolted through the other end of the alley and exploded into a busy street. Horns honked. Pedestrians scattered. A delivery bike swerved and nearly clipped me. I didn’t stop running. I dashed across, vanished into the crowd, and turned sharply into another side street, hugging the shadowed corners until I finally found a dip between two buildings.

I pressed my back to the wall, panting like I’d just run a marathon on fire.

Then I peeked.

They were there, searching. Spinning in circles like sharks confused by a blood trail. One of them threw his hands up in frustration. Buzz Cut shouted something into a walkie-talkie. And then… they were gone.

I exhaled. A shaky, relieved breath.

"Fuck," I muttered to myself, tugging my hoodie up and slipping back into the moving crowd.

I hailed a cab by sheer instinct. My brain hadn’t caught up yet, but my body moved on autopilot.

“Main city,” I told the driver, trying to keep my voice steady.

He glanced at me through the mirror. “You sure? You don’t exactly look like—

“Just drive,” I cut in, tossing a few crumpled bills onto the seat beside him.

The cab rolled forward. And as the city shifted around me, so did everything else.

I’d never been to the main city. Too expensive, too flashy. Downtown was all I knew—dark alleys, cracked concrete, dusty neon lights flickering over rusted signs. The place where the forgotten lived.

But now… this?

The cab rolled into a different world.

Sleek skyscrapers sliced the sky, shimmering like blades of silver and glass. Roads were smooth black rivers lined with glowing blue lights. Holograms and drones danced through the air like it was nothing. Digital screens wrapped around buildings, flashing vibrant ads and influencer drama in pixel-perfect resolution.

It didn’t feel real. It felt like I’d stepped into someone else’s life.

I leaned forward, forehead nearly pressed to the window. “Damn,” I whispered.

We stopped at a red light. My gaze caught on a billboard the size of a building. It shimmered, transitioned—and suddenly, the word blazed across the screen in white fire:

LUNARIS.

A high-end nightclub. The most elite. The kind only the rich, powerful, and probably criminal could enter. Even back downtown, Lunaris was a fantasy, the kind of place people dreamed of making enough money just to glimpse.

The ad shifted. And then his face appeared.

Zane Ryker.

The man behind it all. The owner or Lunaris. Even his name sounded expensive.

He is known all over Nocturne City. The kind of guy you didn’t look at twice unless you wanted trouble—or a job. He had that otherworldly kind of beauty that made you question his existence. Hair like spun gold. Eyes like molten honey with sharp angles. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Deadly.

He looked like he didn’t have to say a single word to make people obey. The city probably bowed to him without him lifting a damn finger.

I stared, lips parting. For a moment, I forgot I was broke, hunted, and exhausted. For a second, all I could think was:

How the hell is someone that hot real?

The light turned green. The cab moved on. Reality came crashing back.

We stopped in front of a hotel. It was called Iris. The name shimmered in crystal letters above a sleek revolving door.

I didn’t have many choices. No motels in this part of town. And I didn’t have the energy to keep running tonight.

Across the street, a warm glow spilled from a café. My stomach growled in betrayal. Right—food. I hadn’t eaten all day.

I headed in, ordered a burger and a latte, barely tasted any of it. My thoughts were still half in the alley, half on that damn billboard. I paid with the last of my cash and returned to the hotel.

The receptionist looked me up and down like I didn’t belong. She wasn’t wrong.

“I need a room,” I said, keeping my voice even.

She quoted a price. I transferred the money. Enough for two nights. Barely.

I took the keycard and headed into the elevator, slumping against the back wall.

Then I saw it.

A digital ad played on a panel above the floor buttons. It glowed softly, like a whisper from the universe.

LUNARIS NIGHTCLUB – NOW HIRING WAITSTAFF

$3,000/Month. Accommodation Provided. Apply In-Person.

I blinked.

I stared.

And then I laughed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

The elevator dinged. My floor. I stepped out, still staring at the ad like it might vanish.

For the first time in forever, it felt like maybe… just maybe… fate was finally on my side. A real job. A safe place to sleep. Money. A chance to stop running.

If I could just work for a few months—seven, maybe eight—I’d have enough to finally disappear. Maybe even figure out who I really was. What they wanted from me. Why I was being chased.

And maybe… just maybe… Zane Ryker’s name would be enough to keep those men from coming near.

I flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. The room smelled like expensive linen and citrus.

Tomorrow, I’d walk into Lunaris and apply.

And if I got the job… my life might finally, finally begin.

Because I was tired of running, tired of hiding.

I needed a job. I needed a life.