There are four guys sitting there, two on each side. The pair closest to me is kissing—both in vampire costumes, fangs, blood and all.
But it’s the other two that catch my attention.
One of them’s tall and muscled, wearing a Joker costume with a green wig. He’s leaning in, one arm draped casually over the shoulder of the fourth guy, whispering something in his ear. His other hand slides over the inside of the guy’s thigh, cupping him through the fabric.
And the fourth guy—
He’s in a Squid Game costume too. A teal tracksuit with a white number 10 on the chest—the participant kind, not the guard uniform I’m wearing.
But it’s his face that stops me cold. Unamused. Familiar in a way that makes my chest clench.
My heart stutters—then kicks hard. Because I know exactly who he is.
His long blond hair isn’t tied into a bun like usual—just thrown over one shoulder, long and silky. His fair, velvety skin gleams in the green semi-darkness of the room.
It’s Sawyer Moon.
For a second, I just stand there, staring, thinking I must’ve mistaken someone else for him. But then he looks up and catches my gaze. We both freeze, looking at each other—my heart going wild, my stomach flipping. He definitely recognizes me too, though there’s no shame or embarrassment on his face. Just calm acknowledgment, like:oh—you’re here too.
The Joker guy—who’s been whispering sweet nothings into Moon’s ear this whole time—seems to finally notice he’s lost his attention and turns to look at me too.
“What’s up?” he says, eyeing me like a dog spotting a trespasser—clearly not thrilled about being interrupted.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, then turn on my heel, catching a faint “Do you know that guy or something?” behind me.
I walk off, adrenaline pounding in my temples.
Fuck. So Moon’s gay. Definitely now.
I mean, sitting on top of me with a hard-on and going in for a kiss was kind of a giveaway. But still, I wasn’t sure. I mean, this guy has been bullying me for years—called me a slur, even—and now he’s got some hunk all over him in the dark corner of Dallas’s biggest gay club. It’s a lot to process, and I don’t think I have the capacity to do it without at least a little alcohol in my system.
“Oh, you found us, Mark!” Nick yells when I slump into the booth next to Eric, still completely in my head. “Did you see my text?”
I honestly don’t even know how I found them—last I checked, they were at the bar, and now they’re at one of the booths on the other side of the dance floor. I didn’t even realize there were tables here. Running into Moon threw me so hard my brain just…blanked.
“Is this mine?” I ask, pointing at the beer.
Eric nods, sipping his bloody-red drink from a martini glass. I pick up the beer and down it in one go.
“You good?” he says, raising an eyebrow as I set the glass down.
“Guess who I just ran into,” I say, glancing between them, jaw tight, heart pounding again.
“Who?” they both say at once.
“Sawyer Moon,” I mutter, my face heating—for no good reason. Lucky no one can tell in this neon-green light.
“What?” Nick says, scandalized, leaning across the table with his whole body.
“Moon?” Eric shouts, and I smack his shoulder to get him to lower his voice. “Didn’t he call you a fag?” he says—still loud, but at least not yelling now.
Nick shoots me a shocked look. “Didn’t you tell him about the kiss?”
“About the what?” Eric blurts, eyes going wide. “He kissed you and you didn’t tell me?!”
My whole face goes hot. I forgot how fast these two turn into gossip goblins the second they’re in the same room.
“Yeah,” I say. “But I need another beer before I can tell you that story.”
