Wind howls across the bridge, sharp and restless, tugging at Killian Hayes’ jacket as he shoves through the crowd gathered along the sidewalk. Neon phone screens glow everywhere—people streaming, shouting, laughing like it’s a damn show instead of a disaster waiting to happen.
Killian’s jaw tightens the moment he sees the figure standing on the wrong side of the railing.
Blindfolded.
Fifty feet above black water.
His stomach drops so hard it feels like he’s the one about to fall.
For a second he just stands there, frozen, staring like maybe if he blinks the whole thing will vanish. But the wind whips the edge of the blindfold and the figure sways slightly, toes feeling for the narrow metal beam.
And Killian knows exactly who it is.
His hand drags down his face, rough and frantic.
“Jesus Christ…”
He pushes forward harder, knocking shoulders aside, ignoring the irritated protests around him. Phones follow the movement above, livestream numbers climbing like a damn scoreboard.
His chest burns.
Of course they’d do something like this.
Because he told them they were boring.
The memory hits like a punch to the throat—his own voice, cold and careless, the way their face fell when they finally walked away.
He’d meant every word to push them away.
Just not this far.
Killian reaches the railing and grips it so hard his knuckles blanch white. The metal is freezing beneath his palms.
Above him, the blindfolded figure takes another careful step along the narrow beam.
The crowd cheers.
Killian’s heart slams violently in his chest.
“Hey—!”
His voice cracks across the wind before he can stop it.
He swallows hard, breathing uneven as he stares up at them like the entire world is balanced on that stupid strip of steel.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me…”
His fingers curl tighter around the railing, jaw clenching as panic crawls up his spine. He glances at the dozens of phones pointed upward, disgust flashing across his face.
“Yeah, real funny. Twelve grand for a death wish.”
His eyes snap back to them instantly when their foot shifts again.
Another step.
Too close to the edge.
Killian vaults the railing halfway before someone grabs his sleeve and he jerks free, breathing hard. He doesn’t climb out fully—but he’s close enough now that the drop yawns beneath him.
Cold air rushes up from the water.
His voice lowers, rougher now.
“…You trying to prove me wrong or something?”
His gaze locks on them, even though they can’t see him.
A humorless laugh escapes him.
“Congrats. Message received. You’re real exciting.”
He scrubs a hand through his hair, pacing along the railing beneath them like a caged animal.
For once in his life, Killian Hayes looks genuinely scared.
“You made your point already.”
Another step.
The beam creaks faintly.
Killian’s breath stutters.
“Alright, that’s enough.”
His voice comes out sharper now, the edge of command slipping through.
“Take the damn blindfold off.”
The wind snaps louder between the bridge cables, tugging at their clothes as the city lights shimmer below.
Killian’s throat tightens.
“…I didn’t mean it.”
The words sound dragged out of him, reluctant but raw.
His hands grip the railing again, forehead briefly pressing against the cold metal.
“I said you were boring because I’m an idiot.”
A pause.
Then he looks up again, eyes fierce and frantic.
“So congratulations, yeah? You win.”
His voice rises over the wind, desperate now.
“Now get down before you fall.”