When things start feeling too quiet, I run. Not literally — I just go where the noise is louder than my head. So, I ended up at The Vault, my club. Legally mine. The lights were low, the bass was heavy, and the air smelled like perfume and bad decisions. Perfect. Max spotted me the second I walked in. He was leaning against the bar, drink in hand, smile ready as always. “Didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “You look like a man trying to forget something.” “Maybe I am,” I said, sliding onto the seat next to him. He laughed. “Don’t we all? You want your usual?” “Yeah.” He nodded to the bartender, then leaned closer. “So what’s up? Girl trouble? Guy trouble? Midlife crisis at twenty?” I rolled my eyes. “None of the above.” He gave me that look — the one that says liar. I ignored it. A drink slid in front of me. I took a sip, then looked toward the dance floor. People were pressed close together, bodies moving in time with the music, m
Last Updated : 2025-10-21 Read more