Chapter 4: Speed and Addiction

Night had just fallen, but cold sweat still flooded Budi’s temples. After escaping Rocky’s gym, he felt as though every pair of eyes on the streets of Jakarta was staring at him with the same lust. Sure enough, as he passed through a narrow alley near the Senopati area, three strange men who looked thirsty began to surround him.

“Hey, you smell amazing! Come here, don’t run!” one of the men shouted, his eyes glowing red.

Budi pumped his legs harder. “Damn it, am I getting a free trial as city predator bait or what?!” Budi cursed while looking back.

Suddenly, a metallic black sports car sped by and stopped right next to Budi. The passenger door swung wide open.

“Budi! Get in, hurry up! Damn, why are you being chased again?!” Gibran cried out from behind the wheel, his face looking panicked yet tense.

Without thinking twice, Budi jumped inside. The door closed, and Gibran immediately stepped on the gas until the tires screeched against the asphalt.

“Gibran? Why are you here? Thanks, I swear, I almost became food back there!” Budi’s breath came in ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling drastically.

Gibran didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the road ahead with a blank gaze, but his nostrils flared, inhaling the air inside the cramped cabin of the car.

“Budi... where did you come from? Why is your scent getting worse?” Gibran’s voice sounded hoarse, far removed from his usual casual demeanor.

“I just left the gym. I don’t know, Gi, my body feels like it’s cursed! Can’t you just focus on driving?” Budi replied, trembling.

Gibran let out a bitter laugh, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Focus? How can I focus when there’s a dish next to me that smells like top-tier narcotics? I swear, Budi, you make my brain go blank.”

“Gi, please, not you too!” Budi pressed himself against the car door, trying to get as far away from Gibran as possible.

“I’ve been holding myself back since this morning in the pantry, but this... this is different. This is more intense,” Gibran glanced at Budi with a predatory look. “Do you realize that you’re like a magnet for guys like us?”

“I just want to survive, Gibran! I just want to go home, lock the door, and turn off the lights. Can you drop me off in front of my apartment?” Budi pleaded with a begging tone.

“Drop you off? When your scent is making me lose my sanity?” Gibran swerved the car sharply, not heading toward Budi’s apartment, but toward the quiet and dark outskirts of the city.

“Hey! This isn’t the way to my apartment! Gibran, stop! Where are you taking me?!” Budi began to panic, his hand grabbing the car door handle.

“I can’t hold back anymore, Bud. I swear, I can’t,” Gibran pulled the car over into an empty lot far from the crowds. The atmosphere inside the car suddenly became hot and suffocating.

Gibran killed the engine. A chilling silence enveloped them, dominated only by Gibran’s heavy breathing. The man slowly turned toward Budi.

“Gi, please... don’t,” Budi whispered, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “We’re friends. How could you do this?”

“Friends? You call us friends?” Gibran laughed cynically, leaning his body forward until his hot breath washed over Budi’s face. “Budi, look into my eyes. Does this look like a friend’s stare? This is the look of someone starving.”

“I’ll give you anything, as long as you let me go tonight,” Budi said, his mind racing to find a loophole.

“Give me what? I don’t need your money,” Gibran brought his face closer to Budi’s neck, roughly inhaling that intoxicating vanilla aroma.

Budi squeezed his eyes shut, his heart breaking, but he had to endure. “Okay, okay! I’ll meet you tomorrow. Here. Alone. Promise! But let me go now, please, I’m really about to faint from fear,” Budi said with a trembling voice.

Gibran paused for a moment. He pulled his face back slightly, staring at Budi with an unreadable expression. “A promise? You’re not pranking me again, are you?”

“I promise, Gibran. I’ll show up tomorrow. Now, please take me home,” Budi tried to act as convincingly as possible.

Gibran let out a long sigh, fixing his messy hair out of frustration. He looked at Budi once more, his eyes gleaming with obsession.

“Alright, I’ll hold you to that promise. But listen carefully, Budi,” Gibran whispered right in front of Budi’s lips, his voice icy cold yet full of threat. “Never try to play games behind my back. Especially with Rocky or that bastard Daniel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I won’t let a single man in this city touch you except me,” Gibran restarted the car engine aggressively. “You belong to me now. Remember that, or I’ll make you regret asking for my help earlier.”

Gibran stepped on the gas pedal, speeding away from the secluded spot. Budi could only sit in silence, staring at the passing scenery through the window with growing terror. He had just escaped one tiger’s mouth, only to be trapped in a more dangerous cage. That night, Budi realized that the neon snail on the beach had stripped him of his life as an ordinary human, replacing it with the fate of being the most sought-after meal in a world that had suddenly gone mad.