Josias walked home in a daze of fury, his brow knit so tight it ached. He kept his eyes glued to the pavement, his mind replaying the image of Fabrício’s expensive gift and William’s accusations. As he passed the corner bar on Hope Street, he spotted Jeremiah through the window, already deep into his cups with yet another girl.
Josias had a few coins in his pocket and decided to buy a bottle of soda to have with his dinner; he’d just store it in Teodoro’s communal fridge.
The moment he stepped inside, the chaotic atmosphere hit him. A samba track blared from a distorted radio at a volume that made his eardrums throb. Drunk patrons shouted over the music as if in a competition. It was barely evening, and the place was already a den of excess; he could only imagine the state of it by midni
