Alexander has always believed words were tools useful, sharp, easily controlled. Tonight, they terrify him. The club is closed, lights dimmed to a low amber glow that softens the edges of everything. The main floor lies empty below the observation room, stripped of its usual pulse and humanity. Without music, without bodies, the space feels almost sacred in its stillness. Honest. Alexander stands with his hands braced against the glass, his reflection faint and fractured in the darkness. He looks composed, as always. Perfect posture. Immaculate suit. The illusion intact. Inside, everything is shaking. He hears Vincent before he sees him, measured footsteps, familiar and unhurried. Vincent never rushes. He learned long ago that urgency invites mistakes. “You’re still here,” Vincent says, stepping into the room. “I was beginning to think you’d started sleeping under the observation desk.” Alexander doesn’t turn. “I needed quiet.” Vincent hums softly, reading the room, re
最終更新日 : 2026-01-14 続きを読む