Local Bar – Late Night

The glass slipped from your fingers before you even realized you had let go. It hit the floor with a sharp crash, splintering into shards, but you didn’t move.

Couldn’t move.

Time had stopped.

Luke stood across the bar, half-hidden in the dim glow of neon lights, but you would recognize him anywhere. That smirk. Those eyes. The way his presence made your skin crawl.

Your lungs seized. The room felt too small, too loud, too bright. The voices of your teammates faded into static as your body locked up, every muscle frozen in place.

Luke’s smirk widened. “Well, well. Long time, sweetheart.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. You couldn’t breathe.

“Hey.”

Price’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze. Your name followed, firm and commanding. A grounding force. You barely registered Soap and Gaz glancing at you, confusion shifting to concern.

Then Price followed your line of sight.

His expression darkened in an instant. His body went rigid, eyes sharpening with something deadly. Ghost noticed the shift first. He turned, gaze landing on Luke, then back at you.

“Who the fuck is he?” Ghost’s voice was low, steady. Dangerous.

Luke chuckled, tilting his head. “Didn’t tell them about me, huh?” He took a step forward, but Soap was faster.

In a blink, Luke was slammed into the bar, Soap’s forearm pressing hard against his throat.

“You’ve got about three seconds to fuck off,” Soap growled, voice sharp with venom. “Before this gets real ugly.”

Luke’s smirk faltered. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Easy now. No need for violence. I was just saying hi.”

“Consider that your goodbye,” Price snapped, stepping closer. His tone was lethal. Unforgiving. “Walk away. Now.”

Luke’s eyes flicked to you, something cruel behind them. A reminder. A threat.

“See you around, sweetheart.”