Puppy

Chapter Sixteen 

Bruno's POV 

The car slows to a stop.

Before I even step out, I can feel it.

The music.

Low at first—just a distant pulse—but steady, alive, vibrating through the air like a heartbeat.

Vera is already opening the door before I can overthink it.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing my wrist lightly. “Don’t freeze on me now.”

I step out.

And immediately, the world changes.

Neon lights spill across the entrance, flashing in shifting colors—purple, blue, gold—painting everything in a glow that feels unreal. The bass is louder now, thumping through the ground, through my chest, syncing with my pulse.

People move in and out of the club in waves—laughing, talking, dressed like they belong here.

Everything I’m not right now.

“Breathe,” Vera murmurs beside me, nudging me forward.

I don’t even realize I’ve stopped again.

“I am breathing,” I mutter, but I follow her anyway.

The moment we step inside—

The sound hits fully.

Music crashes around us, loud and addictive. Lights flash across the dance floor, bodies moving in rhythm, drinks raised, laughter echoing over everything.

It’s chaotic.

But in a strange way…

It’s freeing.

Vera wastes no time. She pulls me straight toward the bar, weaving through the crowd like she owns the place.

“I’m getting you a drink,” she shouts over the music.

“I don’t need—”

“You do,” she cuts in, already signaling the bartender.

I sigh, leaning slightly against the counter, trying to take it all in.

The smell of alcohol, perfume, and something electric fills the air. The energy here is completely different from earlier today.

“Here,” Vera says, handing me a glass.

I stare at it for a second.

Then take a small sip.

It burns slightly going down—but not in a bad way.

“See?” she grins. “You’re already relaxing.”

I roll my eyes, but she’s not entirely wrong.

Some of the tension in my shoulders starts to ease.

Just a little.

“Come on,” she says again, grabbing my hand. “Dance with me.”

“I’m not dancing,” I protest immediately.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes. You. Are.”

Before I can argue again, she pulls me into the crowd.

The music is louder here.

Stronger.

It surrounds me completely.

At first, I’m stiff—awkward, unsure of where to place my hands, how to move.

But Vera doesn’t care.

She starts dancing like nothing else exists, laughing, pulling me along, refusing to let me stand still.

“Loosen up!” she shouts.

The music gets louder.

Or maybe it’s just everything inside me getting quieter.

I don’t even remember when the first drink finished.

Or the second.

Or the third.

All I know is the sharp burn in my throat has turned warm… almost comforting. The tight knot in my chest has loosened, my thoughts slower now, softer, less painful.

“Easy,” Vera laughs, trying to take the glass from my hand. “You’re not trying to finish the whole bar, are you?”

“I’m fine,” I say, my words slightly slurred, pulling it back. “Let me enjoy myself.”

She eyes me suspiciously.

But then her phone rings.

She groans, checking the screen. “Ugh… I need to take this. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.”

I wave her off lazily. “Go… I’m not a baby.”

She hesitates.

Then nods.

“Stay here,” she repeats firmly before stepping away, pushing through the crowd toward a quieter corner.

I watch her go for a second.

Then I turn back to the bar.

“Another one,” I say, placing the empty glass down with a soft thud.

The bartender raises a brow but pours anyway.

I take it.amd drink.

The world tilts slightly.

But I don’t stop.

Because thinking hurts.

And right now—

I don’t want to feel anything.

Everything after that becomes… blurry.

Laughter that doesn’t feel like mine.

At some point, I feel a hand steady me.

I blink slowly, trying to focus.

“Herrick…?” I mumble, my words dragging.

He’s right in front of me.

Too close.

His jaw is tight, his eyes dark, scanning me like he’s trying to figure out how I got to this state.

“You’re drunk,” he says flatly.

I laugh softly. “No… I’m not…”

He doesn’t argue.

He just takes the glass from my hand and sets it aside.

“Come on,” he says.

“I can walk,” I insist—but my body doesn’t cooperate.

The floor shifts.

My balance slips.

And the next thing I know—

His arm is around me, steadying me.

“I’ve got you,” he mutters.

And for some reason…

I believe him.

We move through the crowd, everything spinning around me. I lean into him without realizing it, my head light, my thoughts scattered.

“Vera…” I mumble weakly.

“She’s not here,” he replies shortly.

Or maybe I just don’t hear her.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice soft and unsteady as I try to keep up with him.

Everything around me feels like it’s spinning lights blurring, sounds fading in and out.

“I don’t know,” he replies, his tone rougher than usual. “But we need to leave here.”

I blink, trying to focus on him.

On the way he’s holding me.

On the slight sway in his steps.

That’s when I realize—

He’s not completely sober either.

There’s a looseness in the way he moves, a heaviness in his voice… like he’s holding himself together by sheer will.

For a moment, I hesitate.

This isn’t normal.

None of this is, But I don’t argue.

“Okay…”

The word barely leaves my lips.

And then I follow him.

Like I have nowhere else to go.

Like a lost puppy trailing after the only familiar presence in a world that suddenly feels too loud… too unstable… too much.

His hand tightens slightly around mine, guiding me through the crowd, and I let him.