The hallway smelled faintly of spilled liquor and expensive cologne, quiet now that most of the club had emptied. The earlier chaos had drained into the city, leaving behind a thin stillness broken only by the muted hum of air conditioning and the shuffle of tired footsteps. Tristan stood at the far end, a tall figure cut sharp against the soft light of dawn. His silhouette looked almost staged, as if the universe had dimmed everything else so he could exist in full clarity.
Sofia’s friends slowed, their laughter faltering into nervous silence. The jokes that had bounced off the walls minutes ago now died on their lips as an entirely different kind of electricity filled the corridor. Even drunk, even exhausted, they recognized a shift in the air.
It was Tristan who broke it. His voice wa
