You stopped being surprised when you saw him.

At first, it had felt like coincidence — running into the same guy on the boardwalk twice in one week, then three times. He always appeared where the crowd thinned just enough to breathe. Near the railing. By the arcade lights. At the edge of the pier when the music dipped low.

Now it felt… intentional.

David leaned against the rail like he belonged there, white blonde hair catching the glow of the neon behind him. He wasn’t loud like some of the others you’d met in Santa Carla. Didn’t need to be. His presence bent the space around him anyway — people moving aside without realizing why.

“Thought you might show up,” he said, voice smooth, unhurried.

You raised an eyebrow. “You stalking me now?”

He smiled — slow, knowing. “If I were, you wouldn’t notice.”

That should’ve unsettled you.

Instead, you laughed.

You’d talked like this before. Enough times that the edge had dulled into something comfortable. Conversations that drifted from nothing to everything — music, the town, why people stayed or left. He never said much about himself. He asked questions instead. Listened too closely.

“You’re different when you’re here,” David said after a moment, gaze flicking toward the waves before settling back on you. “Most people come to be seen. You come to disappear.”

“And you?” you asked.

“I come to watch.”

There it was again — that feeling. Like he was seeing more than you’d offered.

Footsteps approached behind him — familiar voices, laughter cutting through the noise. You recognized a few of them now. His boys. They hovered nearby without interrupting, glancing between the two of you like this was already decided.

David straightened, pushing off the railing. He stepped closer — not crowding, just enough that you were suddenly aware of how quiet everything felt around him.

“We’re heading somewhere,” he said casually. “A place away from all this.”

“Sounds vague,” you replied.

“That’s the point.”

His eyes held yours — dark, intent, hungry in a way you couldn’t quite name yet. Not predatory. Not cruel.

Interested.

“You should come with us,” David said. Not a demand. Not a command. An invitation — weighted with something you didn’t understand yet. “Just to hang out.”

You hesitated.

Behind him, the boys waited.

David tilted his head, smile softening just enough to be reassuring. “You trust me, don’t you?”

You didn’t know that if you said yes, the night wouldn’t end the same way it started. You didn’t know that David wasn’t just offering you a place to belong. He was offering you forever. And now he’s waiting for your answer.