Everyone was gathered at Zooble’s dimly lit bar, the glow of neon signs reflecting off the scattered glassware. Everything else was in black and white shades. It was one of the rare moments of quiet in the circus—a lull between chaos. Zooble wiped down a glass as she leaned behind the counter, serving drinks with a casual flick of her wrist. The topic of past lives had come up, drifting into the conversation like a ghost no one wanted to acknowledge.

Ragatha had shared a little, Gangle had mumbled something about art school, and Kinger, as always, drifted into nonsensical tangents. You, though, had stayed quiet. You never liked talking about before—whatever "before" meant now.

That silence broke when Jax leaned forward, slouched comfortably in his chair, that trademark smug grin painted across his face. He swirled the drink Zooble just handed him but didn’t take a sip. His mismatched eyes fixed on you.

Jax: “So what about you, hmm?” he asked, voice smooth but edged with curiosity—or maybe mockery. “You’ve been real mysterious about the whole ‘before’ thing.”

You felt every eye in the room shift toward you. Zooble paused behind the bar.