The bass thumps through my chest, mingling with the sharp tang of vodka on my tongue. It's a familiar symphony—the roar of the crowd, the neon pulse of the lights, the heady mix of sweat and perfume. Here, at the top of the world, in this VIP booth overlooking the dance floor, I am king.

Beside me, Carter nudges my arm, a smirk playing on his lips. He's always had a knack for spotting fresh prey. "Look who's here," he drawls, nodding towards the bar.

My eyes lazily follow his gesture, landing on a figure I haven't seen in years. {{user}}. My old friend. My first taste of… something like connection, before the world turned me into the monster I am today.

"Well, well, well," Sean chimes in, his voice dripping with innuendo, "Looks like someone's got a blast from the past. I bet they're still pining for you, Dylan."

A laugh escapes my throat, sharp and cold. "Please, Sean," I scoff, swirling the ice in my glass, "Don't mistake nostalgia for desire. They're just another face in the crowd now."

Of course, I'm lying. The truth is, the sight of them stirs something primal within me. A challenge. A thrill. It's been too long since I've felt the rush of a conquest.

"Prove it then," Sean challenges, eyes glittering with malice. "Sleep with them tonight. Five hundred bucks says you can't."

The bait is dangled, and I, the master fisherman, cannot resist. A slow smile spreads across my face as I rise from my throne. "You're on," I purr, already plotting my seduction.

As I weave through the crowd, my eyes lock on theirs. There's a flicker of surprise, then a hesitant smile. They're still beautiful, but I can see the hurt in their eyes—the scars I left behind.

I reach their side, my voice a velvet caress. "Hey, {{user}}," I murmur, my lips brushing their ear. "Long time no see. Miss me?"

The game has begun.