Connected Blood

8 - Tangled Paths

When I was finally ready, I stepped out of the house, only to freeze in my tracks. A black van, sleek and intimidating, was parked in front of my gate. Its glossy surface reflected the early morning light, and I instantly recognized the model—a Hyundai H350. My brows furrowed. This wasn’t the usual car I took to work.

For years, I drove myself in my pink Porsche 718 Boxster. Even with a busy schedule, I loved the freedom driving gave me, a brief escape from the chaos of my life. Max and Matt would always trail behind in their own car, ensuring my safety. But today, there was no sign of my beloved Porsche or our usual routine.

“Why a van?” I mumbled to myself.

Max stepped out of the house right after me, her sharp eyes glancing at her watch. “We’re late. Get in,” she said briskly, opening the van door.

Without arguing, I climbed in and slid onto the plush seat. The door shut behind me, and the engine hummed to life.

Curiosity itched at me, so I leaned forward to check the driver. It wasn’t Matt. It was Draco. His dark, sharp features stood out as he focused on the road ahead. A strange tension hung in the air.

I debated thanking him for the breakfast earlier but hesitated. What if it wasn’t him? Maybe it was Max. Shaking the thought away, I leaned back, closing my eyes, though my mind raced.

The ride was silent, save for the soft purring of the engine. My thoughts drifted to the accident, the way my heart still clenched at the memory. Driving used to feel liberating, but now, fear lingered every time I touched the wheel.

After some time, the van slowed to a stop. I stirred as the door slid open.

“We’re here already?” I asked, blinking.

Draco stood there, holding the door open. His presence felt imposing, even without saying a word.

“Where’s Max?” I asked, my voice firmer now.

“She’s already inside. I was about to wake you,” Draco replied calmly.

I stepped out of the van, my heels clicking against the pavement, and walked straight into the building without looking back. I wasn’t used to having someone new around, and it unsettled me. For years, it had always been just Max, Matt, and me. This change felt foreign, unwelcome even.

Inside the studio, the crew was bustling about, adjusting lights and props for the shoot.

“Ms. Velasco?” a staff member called.

“Yes?” I responded, offering a small smile.

“This way, please,” she said, leading me to the makeup room.

The makeup artist wasted no time, expertly working on my face and hair. I glanced at the mirror, catching Draco’s reflection. He stood at the back of the room, silent and observant. His gaze was unreadable, which only made me more aware of his presence.

“Where’s Max?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“She’s with Brilliance’s manager,” the makeup artist replied, focused on her work.

I nodded and leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment.

---

“Hold that pose! Perfect!” Gayson, the photographer, exclaimed as the camera clicked repeatedly. “You’re nailing this, Sync!”

“Stop hyping me up, Gay,” I said with a chuckle, holding my pose for another shot.

“Why would I? You’re stunning! Brilliance made the best choice picking you,” he said, grinning from behind the camera.

Gayson had been my photographer for years, and his energy never failed to lift the room. His skill was unmatched, and his flamboyant personality always made shoots more enjoyable.

“All right, that’s a wrap, everyone!” he announced. The crew clapped, signaling the end of the shoot.

I handed the product I’d been holding to a staff member and walked over to Gayson. “Don’t you ever get tired of seeing my face?” I teased.

“Never! You’re a goddess,” he replied dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “The campaign practically screams your name!”

Before I could respond, Bella Brillantes, the owner of Brilliance, approached us.

“I’m so glad we chose you as our model,” she said warmly, shaking my hand.

“The honor’s mine,” I replied with a polite smile.

“You’ll see, this campaign will be a hit,” Bella added confidently.

“I don’t doubt it,” Gayson chimed in. “Sync is the face of fame!”

I playfully swatted his arm. “Stop it. I might’ve been forgotten by now,” I said jokingly.

“Not a chance,” Bella said firmly. “You’re still as radiant as ever.”

Max appeared, holding my phone. “Excuse me,” she said, her tone serious. “You’ve got a call.”

“Who is it?” I asked, my brows furrowing.

Max handed me the phone. “It’s about the accident,” she said before stepping aside to take another call herself.

I glanced around. The crew was busy packing up, so I stepped outside for some privacy before answering.

“Hello?” I said cautiously.

“Sync? It’s me, Kyan,” a familiar voice responded.

My chest tightened at the sound of his voice. “Kyan? What’s this about?”

“You changed your number,” he said, his tone neutral.

“Yes, I did. Why are you calling? Did you find something?”

“I did, but I can’t explain over the phone. It’s too risky,” he said firmly.

“What do you mean risky? Just tell me what you know,” I demanded, my grip on the phone tightening.

“It’s not safe to discuss this here. Trust me, Sync, we need to meet in person,” he insisted.

I hesitated, glancing around the empty hallway. “Is it really that important? I’m swamped right now.”

“Yes, it is. This involves the accident and something deeper. You need to hear it face-to-face,” he replied, his voice low and serious.

My mind raced. Kyan rarely sounded this urgent. “Fine. Where do you want to meet?”

“At the usual café near my lab,” he said without hesitation.

I pressed my lips together, torn between curiosity and dread. “All right,” I muttered, my heart pounding in anticipation.