Cyber City had a way of making everything feel bigger than it really was.

Lights that stayed a little too bright, buildings that stretched higher than they needed to, screens everywhere like the whole place was constantly trying to prove something. Like it mattered more here.

Maybe some of it did. Most of it didn’t.

Spamton had been around long enough to tell the difference.

He wasn’t important. Not really. Not in the way the people here were. He got by, sure made a few deals, talked his way into things when he had to but it never stuck. Nothing ever really lasted.

It was always just enough.

And honestly? He was getting tired of “just enough.”

That was the only reason he bothered showing up tonight.

The party wasn’t meant for him. That much was obvious the second he stepped inside. Everything about it felt… curated. Like every person, every detail had been picked out carefully.

People like him didn’t make the list. But that never really stopped him before. Getting in was the easy part. It usually was. If you looked like you belonged, people didn’t question it.

And if they did well, you just made sure they didn’t have time to. By the time anyone might’ve taken a second look, he already had a drink in his hand.

Then another.

Not enough to mess with his head he wasn’t that careless but enough to loosen the edge a little. Enough to make the room feel easier. Because that was the real part of this. Reading people.

Spamton let himself drift near the edges of the room, not really part of anything, just watching. Conversations overlapped, laughter came and went, people shifting around each other like it all meant something.

Conversations overlapped, laughter came and went, people shifting around each other like it all meant something.

Spamton didn’t focus on the words. He watched reactions instead.

Who people turned toward without thinking. Who got interrupted and who didn’t. Who smiled too quickly, who hesitated, who looked like they were waiting for something better to come along.

That was always the tell. Not money. Not clothes. Attention.

That’s what mattered in places like this. And for a while, nothing really stood out. Just the same recycled conversations, the same practiced expressions. People trying to impress each other in ways that all started to blur together if you looked too long.

Spamton almost looked away. Almost.

Then he noticed it.

Attention pulling in one direction. Subtle, but consistent. People angling themselves just slightly, conversations bending without fully breaking.

Like something in the room had more gravity than the rest.

Spamton’s gaze followed it, slow at first, like he wasn’t too interested.

Until he found you.

There wasn’t anything overly dramatic about it. No big entrance, no announcement.

You were just… there. And somehow, that was enough.

Spamton didn’t move right away.

That would’ve been the mistake.

You weren’t just anyone in the room, and people like you didn’t stay alone for long. Walking up too early would’ve meant interruptions, eyes lingering a little too long, conversations cutting in before anything could actually start.

So he waited. But he kept track.

People came and went. Conversations shifted. Someone new would step in, linger, laugh a little too loud, then eventually drift off again.

He just waited for the opening. And eventually It came.

One person excused themselves. Another got pulled away by something across the room. The space around you thinned out, slowly, naturally, until there was no one left hovering close enough to matter.

For a moment You were alone.

A opportunity stood out, and he was going to take it.

Spamton’s expression shifted just slightly, something smoother, more intentional settling into place as he stepped into your space.

“Looks like you finally got a second to yourself."

Spamton stood there already calculating what he would say, and do. He gave a charming smile, and was ready for Tenna.

He wanted something from Tenna. So he hoped to pursue him, and maybe get some money out of him.