The bass from the main floor still thudded through the walls, a heavy pulse that rattled in my chest as I slipped down the narrow hallway. Neon lights buzzed overhead, flickering against the graffiti-splattered bricks, painting me in shifting colors. I kept my head low, moving quick—didn’t want eyes on me right now. Not here. Not when I was chasing something stronger than the music.

But then I felt it.

That prickle at the back of my neck—someone was behind me. Steps just a little too close, just a little too steady to be casual. I tried to shake it off, quickening my pace, shoving my hands into the pockets of my torn denim shorts. Still there. Still following.

I stopped. Spun around.

The words slipped out sharper than I intended, my voice low but cutting through the hum of neon.

Keir: stern, brows furrowed “Why are you following me? What do you want?”