wild star| ongoing

sixty-three

CHAPTER 63:
June 15th, 2016
• • •

The nightclub's pulsating lights cast a kaleidoscope of colours over Brandy as she sat at the bar, a lit cigarette dangling from her fingers. The smoke curled up into the dim light, mingling with the haze that filled the room. Despite the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses, a cloak of sadness enveloped her, unlifted by the alcohol's warmth or the nicotine's bite.

Ace was there, as always, ensconced in a booth surrounded by his usual entourage. His laughter occasionally reached her over the music, as opposed to the silence she wrapped around herself.

That's when he approached-a man whose age seemed to carry a story of its own. He had a rugged handsomeness about him, his hair peppered with gray, and lines etched around his eyes that spoke of years and experiences beyond her own.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice smooth, betraying a confidence that immediately put Brandy on guard.

She eyed him warily, taking a slow drag of her cigarette. "Do I know you?" she replied, her tone laced with suspicion.

He smiled, a gesture that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No, but I've been hoping to change that. Name's Vincent."

Brandy exhaled, the smoke forming a transient barrier between them. "What do you want, Vincent?"

"To talk," he said simply, pulling up a stool. "You look like you could use some company."

She couldn't argue with that, but her instincts screamed caution. "I'm not really in the mood for company," Brandy countered, but even as she said it, she felt the loneliness clawing at her insides.

"Still, a little company won't hurt."

She took another sip of her drink, the liquid fire doing nothing to thaw the ice within.

Her existence had become a picture of regrets. She yearned for redemption, for a path to a different life, but the shadows of her past loomed too large. With every loss etched into her soul, she could only yearn for a quick resolution to the turmoil that had become her constant companion.

"Alright, Vincent," she said, "let's talk."

The bar's ambient noise faded into the background as he took the seat next to her. His casual demeanour belied the sharpness of his gaze, the calculated questions hidden beneath casual conversation.

"Why are you here by yourself?" Vincent inquired, a seemingly innocent question laced with ulterior motives.

Brandy took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes scanning the crowd before landing on Ace's familiar figure. "I'm not alone," she corrected with a slight tilt of her head towards him. "Came here with him."

His interest was piqued, though he kept his expression neutral. "Ace, huh? He seems like a guy who knows what's going on around here."

She shrugged, the alcohol loosening her tongue. "Yeah, he's got connections. You looking to score something?"

Unbeknownst to her, Vincent was gathering pieces of a puzzle she didn't know she was a part of. "Maybe," he played along. "He deals with the heavy stuff?"

She laughed, a hollow sound. "Heavy enough. But he doesn't deal with just anyone."

He nodded, filing away every word. "I can imagine. You must be someone special to him then."

The insinuation hung in the air, and Brandy felt a twinge of discomfort. "I'm no one's special anything," she said, a bit more sharply than intended.

Vincent raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge. "Yet here you are, his plus one in a place like this."