The bass hit first.
It rumbled through Tessa's chest like a second heartbeat as she walked into the nightclub, neon lights glinting through darkness, bodies packed tight in a restless blur of heat, sweat, and movement.
The air smelled of alcohol and perfume, strong, sweet, reckless.
The kind of place where people came to forget what they were going through.
That was exactly why she was here.
She shoved through the crowd, hugging her bag, the only belonging she had left with her. She went straight to the bar.
"Tequila," she said, swatting a crumpled bill on the counter.
"The strongest you've got," she added
The bartender glanced up, his expression rehearsed and unimpressed.
"Rough night?"
Tessa giggled, but the sound came out wrong, too loud, too sharp, like it might crack if she stopped forcing it.
"You have no idea."She swallowed hard as memories of the previous night flashed through her mind.
The glass slid towards her. She didn't sip. She threw it back in one motion, wincing as it moved all the way down, then she shoved the empty glass ahead again.
"Another."
Someone beside her let out a soft whistle. "Damn. You trying to die or forget?"
Tessa veered around, wobbling just slightly, her eyes glassy but defiant.
Three guys stood nearby, already drunk, already amused, already looking at her like she was an exhibit they'd paid for.
"Forget," she said. "Definitely forget."
One of them grinned. "Shots competition."
He stared at her
She squinted at him. "What?"
"Shots. Us versus you."
She laughed again, louder this time. Her pain was evident in her laughter.
"You'll lose."
"We'll see then"
That did it.
"Bartender!" one of them shouted, a wicked grin playing on his lips.
"Line them up!"
The glasses came fast. One. Two. Three.
"Go!"
Tessa took the first shot. Then the second. Cheers erupted around her, hands clapping, voices increasing over the music.
"Again!"
She slammed the third back, her vision tilting, the room spinning just enough to make her laugh instead of panic.
"That's it," one of them said laughing.
"She's insane, We win"
"Hold on, not done," she slurred, already reaching for the fourth.
Someone started chanting her name, even though none of them knew it.
"You're winning!"
"She's winning!"
Tessa wasn't sure what she was winning, pride, maybe, or numbness, but she didn't stop either.
Each shot numbed the ache nestled deep in her chest.
A picture of her father's stern face. The weight of his words,
"You'll marry him", a man she barely knew.
Her gaze had moved to her mother, only to see her defeated face.
The life already chosen for her, signed and sealed like a debt she never agreed to pay.
She raised another glass.
"To freedom."
No one questioned it. They all drank.
By the time the competition ended, she wasn't sure who'd won.
She only knew her legs felt light, her head heavy, and her heart strangely quiet.
She turned away from the bar,
And that was when she saw him.
He looked like an angel who had lost his way and was on earth.
He stood a little apart from the chaos, leaning casually against a pillar, suit jacket gone, white shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. Dark hair, slightly disheveled. Broad shoulders. Tall. Solid and a pretty face though stiff.The kind of man who didn't need to try to command attention, he had it.
Watching her.
Not cheering. Not laughing. Just watching.
Her breath caught.
She blinked, convinced she was visualizing him. But when she looked again, he was still there, his gaze locked on hers,!steady, assessing, unreadable. Like he could see straight through the drunken haze and into the mess underneath.
She pointed at him. "You."
His brow lifted slightly.
"You didn't clap."
A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips.
"Didn't feel necessary."
She staggered closer, the floor shifting beneath her feet.
"You think you're better than us?"
"Thank you?" he asked lightly, his eyes dropping, too briefly, to the curve of her mouth, the line of her neck.
She stopped in front of him, close enough to smell whiskey and something expensive.
"Then why are you staring?"
He shrugged. "Curiosity."
Her laugh softened this time. Dangerous.
"I'm not that interesting."
His gaze swept over her, her loose hair, flushed cheeks, the way her dress clung to her curves.
He didn't reply, he let his eyes do the talking.
She swayed and caught herself against his chest before she could fall. Solid. Warm. Unmoving.
"Oooh," she murmured, fingers curling into his shirt. "You're… built."
A chuckle vibrated beneath her hands as his arm came around her instinctively, steadying her.
"Careful," he said.
"You might hurt yourself." his gaze was fixated on her all along
She tilted her head, lashes heavy, eyes dark and searching.
"You afraid I'll break you?"
"Hardly," he smirked
He was still holding her up, like letting go wasn't an option.
She dragged her gaze slowly down his body, broad chest, strong arms, the kind of physique shaped by discipline, not accident.
"You work out," she said.
"Sometimes."
She leaned closer, lowering her voice as she whispered in his ears
"You look like trouble."
"And you," he replied, his gaze sharpening, "look like someone who is running from something"
She gazed at him, wondering how he could see through her.
She smiled instead brushing of the thought. "Buy me a drink."
He glanced toward the bar. "You've had enough."
She pouted. "Scared?"
He held her gaze for a long moment, then sighed. "One."
"Yehhh!" She threw her hands up in exaggerated victory.
They stood at the bar, shoulders touching, the contact transmitting a strange heat through her.
"Your name?" she asked.
He hesitated. "Alex."
She grinned. "I'm "
The name stuck in her throat.
Names meant reality. And she didn't want reality, not tonight.
She shook her head. "Doesn't matter."
He studied her carefully. "You sure?"
"Tonight?" She met his eyes. "Yes."
Something changed course in his expression. A decision.
"You working?" he asked casually.
She frowned. "Working? No…"
He nodded toward her dress. "I don't usually pick ladies up at clubs."
Her laugh burst out, unfiltered. "You think I'm?"
He shrugged. "You're flirting. You're drunk.
"Am I wrong?"
She leaned in, lips brushing his ear as hot air caressed his skin.
"Very."
Though she didn't pull away.
He hesitated only a second before placing a hand on her lower back. Firm. Possessive.
"Come with me," he said.
"Where?"
"Trust me."
She should have said No!
Instead, she nodded trusting a stranger in a strange city, something she will never do in her right senses.
The car ride blurred into streaks of city lights and laughter, her head relaxing against the window, his presence filling the gap beside her.
"Where are we going?" she asked again.
"My place."
She smiled lazily.
"Of course it is."