“Don’t touch it too much before you ruin the curls,” Tyler warns from behind me.
I roll my eyes, but I let my hands fall. My reflection stares back at me. I still see the same face, the same freckles, the sameboy who used to bike home after late shifts and hides from the world behind his silence.
And yet… everything around me feels different now. Like I’m standing on the edge of something I don’t understand.
My phone dings.
I grab it quickly — a message from Alex’s driver.
“He’s here, right ?” Tyler asks, and I nod.
Tyler’s already moved to the window, peeking through the curtain.
“Jesus. The driver who always picks you up is standing beside an Escalade.” He says, then turns to me, eyes wide. “How many cars does this Alexander have?”
That’s the same question echoing in my head. I shrug, swallowing the lump in my throat. Tyler walks over and gives my arm a quick squeeze.
“Hey. You look amazing, okay?” He says with a teasing smile. “Good looking, classy, emotionally unavailable twink… the whole aesthetic.”
I give him a grateful glare. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
Then I take a deep breath and make my way downstairs. My legs feel weird and stiff, like they’ve forgotten how to move naturally.
The driver, whose name I have gotten to know as Mike, gives me a brisk nod before opening the backseat door.
Alexander is sitting at one of the rare seats, his demeanor calm as ever. Wearing a black suit, his hair always styled in perfection, gaze cool — but it softens the moment our eyes meet.
He looks like he belongs in a magazine. Or a movie. Or maybe a different world altogether. I slip into the seat next to him, but before the door is about to close, I flinch as the sound of a familiar voice calling out.
“Lucas, wait.”
Tyler?
I blink as the driver steps aside, and Tyler appears, panting like he sprinted down the stairs. He looks between me and Alex, chest rising and falling, his eyes darting like he’s trying to piece something together. His gaze finally settles on Alex.
“Well,” he says, breathless but still managing a smirk, “you look as intimidating as your voice sounded on the phone.”
My eyes widen. I almost forgot that he and Alex had talked on the phone the second time I slept at Alex’s place.
Alex doesn’t flinch. He just sits there, still as stone, his posture relaxed but unmistakably commanding. His voice is low and effortless.
“You must be Tyler.”
“That’s right,” Tyler answers, folding his arms like he’s trying to make himself look bigger. “And I’m Lucas’s best friend. I see you’ve got him wrapped around your pinky finger.”
My mouth falls open.
“Jesus, Tyler,” I sign quickly, hoping he catches the panic in my movements. “What are you doing?”
Tyler doesn’t look at me. His gaze is locked on Alex like he’s squaring up to him. And Alex… just watches. Unbothered. Almost amused.
“And you’re here to warn me?” Alex asks, his lips quirking into the tiniest smile.
“Yes, a warning and a threat,” Tyler replies boldly. “Don’t mind that I look like a twink—I get dirty when I want to. If you’re gonna mess with him emotionally, physically, or telepathically, I will come for you, I will find you even at the bottom of the sea, and I will stab you.”
There’s a silence. One of those sharp, pulsing silences, and I sink lower in my seat, the nerves and awkwardness eating me alive. Alex studies him for a long second. Then, he nods, slow and deliberate.
“Alright, Tyler. Thanks for the heads up.” He says it without irony, without a hint of mockery. Like, he genuinely appreciates the warning. Somehow, that’s even scarier.
