Abyss.
That's the closest word Paul could find for what swallowed him now. Each step echoed in space he couldn't see, like his body sank deeper with every tap of his boots. There was only one figure walking ahead, Roxy, but
even he blurred into the dark, reduced to shape and sound.
Silence.
Not outside. But inside him. His ears caught the rhythm of their boots, but it didn't help. Sound without sight meant nothing, meant blindness. Time stretched thin. Only minutes had passed since the door shut behind them, yet Paul's thoughts sprinted, sharp and restless.
This place will open the door of his next mystery, he knows it. But as always "don't drop your guard, not even for a second."
What if someone recognised him ? Well that wasn't going to be a much of an issue. But the thing is…. He had to take it. He can't avoid it here. To blend in perfectly he will
do it. What comes after that, he'll see it on his own.
"I should've taken the few lines yesterday. Then I will not be feeling this nervous. But since you are with me… that wasn't going to a problem, isn't ??"
The vibe changed as they went down. First came the bass, low and steady, thumping through the walls. Then the voices—muffled at first, but getting louder. Laughter, shouts, little bursts of noise. The air felt heavier
with every step.
"Alright then," Roxy muttered. "Here we are."
He pulled up in front of a door. The music was heavier here, thumping through the metal like the whole crowd was breathing on the other side. Roxy shot Paul a quick look, then leaned in and tapped twice.
The door swung open, and the black silence behind them was swallowed by light and noise.
Roxy stepped out first, and Paul followed, finding himself on a upper ground, even though he travelled so much deeper.
"Roxy!" one of the guys standing beside him called out.
"Yeah, that's me ." Roxy shot back with the same easy grin.
"Where you been, mate?" The man bumped his fist against Roxy's.
"Here and there. Nothin' special." Roxy tapped his fist back, then motioned at Paul. "Oh, and this is Paul. Fresh blood around here."
The man gave Paul a nod and held out his fist. "Sup, man."
Paul met it with a bump. "All good, all good."
"Anyway, I won't stall ya here. Cuzz… go have fun down there." Said the man and excused himself.
Paul took his steps forward, his hand slightly gripped the railing and observed the play.
Night club.
From up here, the view was a sprawl of movement. Shoulders packed tight, heads shifting in waves, bodies colliding and separating to the rhythm of the bass. Purple strobes licked across sweaty faces, catching the sheen of glitter on cheeks, the glare of sunglasses that made no sense indoors.
The smoke machines coughed out white haze, sticking above the crowd like damp
breath on glass.
Sweat, drugstore perfume, and the sharp reek of spilled alcohol mixed into a haze that clung to every breath. Every few seconds, sparks from handheld fireworks burst somewhere below, lighting up cheers. A cluster of girls danced on the DJ booth itself, neon bracelets flickering as if they were
part of the stage show. To the left, a group of men in designer shirts threw back shots in unison, their laughter cutting even through the bass.
Paul leaned his elbows on the railing, eyes drifting across the sea of movement. None of it fazed him. He tilted his head slightly, lips
curving into a faint smirk.
"Whatcha think?"
"Not bad," he muttered himself , almost amused. "Like watching an anthill… if ants wore knock-off Gucci."
"Ain't expected anything like this."
"Told ya. You'll forget your chick from tonight.
"Let's see." Paul didn't drop the excitement in voice.
But internally he stayed casual— calm, tapping the railing with two fingers in rhythm with the music, content to watch the madness play out below like it was just another scene on a screen.
"Have you hit some similar places before, like this ?" Roxy glanced sideways and asked. "Back in old Town."
"Similar, yeah—could say that." Paul sounded uncertain. "But it was kinda mehh…not much like this."
Alright then .
Roxy straightened up from the railing first, brushing off his jacket like he was shaking away the smoke. Without a word, he tilted his head toward the stairs. Paul caught the cue and followed, hands sliding into
his pockets as if this was all just another night.
The stairs wound down along the wall, giving them a closer view with every step. The bass thickened, thumping through their chests, until it felt like their footsteps were syncing with the music. A girl passed them on
the way up, glitter dust smeared across her cheek, laughing too loud at something no one else could hear.
Halfway down, Roxy leaned slightly toward Paul, raising his voice over the bass. "You feeling it, right?"
Paul scanned the dance floor. Bodies packed tight, coloured lights slicing through smoke, energy spilling out like it could flood the whole city. A corner of his mouth twitched up.
"Yeah… lively," he said, casual, like he was trying not to give too much away.
"Lively? Man, that's an understatement," Roxy chuckled, stepping down the last few stairs. "This place is a damn jungle. Best part is… you don't need to know anyone to have a good time."
At the bottom, the heat hit them first. Thick, muggy, laced with sweat and alcohol. Roxy didn't slow, weaving into the press of bodies like he'd done it a hundred times before. Paul slid in behind, not stiff, not tense, just letting himself blend into the current.
The dance floor swallowed them quick. Neon light washed over Paul's face as he moved past a group shouting over the music, past a couple locked in a sloppy kiss, past a waiter balancing a tray of half-empty glasses that looked like they'd never make it to their table.
Paul let the rhythm brush against him– not dancing, just adjusting his steps to the beat.
"Alright," he admitted with a short exhale, almost a laugh. "Now I'm kinda feeling it."
Roxy shot him a grin. "Told ya. Stick with me, I'll get ya full tour."
Soon they reached the counter and let the air settle in their lungs. Roxy dropped into a round chair, elbows on the table. Paul followed, but his eyes stayed fixed on the crowd.
One of the bartenders tapped the counter, snapping Roxy back. "What can I get ya?"
Roxy's eyes wandered lazily over the bottles, but he tilted his head at Paul. "My pal's deciding today's recipe."
Paul finally turned from the floor, pulling a folded stack of bills from his pocket. He tapped the table with it. "You know the game."
Roxy smirked, sliding the cash forward. "You heard him. Two chilled beers and a pack of Lethanox."
The bartender gave him a look, then moved off. Roxy leaned back and let his gaze follow the writhing dance floor before landing on Paul again. He didn't look present—more like he was out there, lost in the crowd.
"Whatcyaa thinking?" Roxy asked.
Paul's voice was low. "Nothin', just… they look pretty chill out there. Free from everything. Even if it's just for a moment."
"That's the trick. My friend?" He nodded toward the writhing crowd. "It ain't about tomorrow. Tomorrow's debt, cops, bad news. Tonight's the only thing they can afford. Live in the moment."
"Kinda sad when you put it like that."
"Nah," Roxy smirked. "Sad is wasting tonight worrying about sad. You take the hit, ride the wave, and deal with morning when it comes crawling."
Paul chuckled, leaning back. "You sound like you've rehearsed that."
"Damn right. It's the only sermon I preach."
Paul shook his head, smirking. "Still... someday, it'll catch up to you."
"Better than standing still."
"Standing still's boring anyway."
"Exactly. Gotta move, even if it's just for tonight."
Paul glanced at the floor again. "Yeah… they make it look easy. Like nothing else matters."
"That's the trick," Roxy said, leaning back. "Pretend hard enough and it doesn't matter."
Paul breathed out through his nose, half a laugh. "Guess I'll need practice."
"Stick with me, champ. I'll get you there."
Roxy nodded toward a group by the far wall. "See those three? Muscle for a mid-tier crew. Don't let the button-ups fool you—half their paycheck's breaking jaws."
Paul raised a brow. "Really? They look like insurance salesmen."
"Insurance, sure. Premium's your kneecaps."
"Yeah, I'll pass on that plan."
Roxy's finger shifted to a corner booth, two women under neon glow. "Those two run cards, coke, whatever moves fast. Sharp as blades."
Paul tilted his head. "They look like they're waiting on a Tinder date."
"Best camouflage in the game."
Paul smirked. "Note to self: never underestimate heels and cocktails."
Finally, Roxy jerked his chin toward the floor where a guy with too much gold spun circles. "That one? No clue. Just shows up."
Paul gave him a flat look. "…That might be the scariest one yet."
Roxy cracked up. "Now you're getting it."
Then his finger lifted higher, toward the balcony. A cluster of sharp-dressed men leaned over the rail. Looking down on everything like... gods.
"You see those? They run the game here. Best advice? Stay outta their way."
Paul frowned. "Run the game… like, they own this place?"
"Own it, rent it, bleed it dry. Everything funnels through them."
Paul tilted his head. "Wait– hold on. You saying like… you work for them?"
"Sure do." Roxy said it too easy, almost casual.
Paul almost choked. "Serious? Like, serious serious?"
"Dead serious. They say jump, I don't ask how high– I just land."
"And if you don't?"
Roxy's grin flattened. "Then you don't come back down."
Silence stretched before Roxy clapped his shoulder. "Anyway— enough shadow talk. You came here for the lights."
He leaned back. "So, what's it like where you're from? Been here what, two weeks?"
Paul nodded. "Yeah, two weeks. Back home… it wasn't bad, really. Quieter. Streets would thin out after dark, you'd hear the same dogs barking every night. I kinda miss that calm, to be honest."
"Sounds dead slow."
"Not slow," Paul said, shaking his head. "Just… steady. Familiar. You knew the corners, the faces, the rhythm of the place. Here?" He looked over the crowd, lights flashing across his eyes. "Feels like I'm still catching my breath. Like the city's already ten steps ahead of me."
Roxy leaned back, chuckling. "That's this place for you. Doesn't wait around. You either match its pace or get run over."
Paul half-grinned. "Still haven't matched it yet. Some days feel like I'm stuck in two worlds... one where I know exactly who I am, and one where I'm just trying to blend in."
"Don't sweat it." Roxy shrugged. "City has a way of breaking people in. Question is whether you bend with it, or it snaps you."
"Comforting," Paul muttered.
"Hey," Roxy smirked, "depends on how much you like surprises."
"Yeah..."
"You will. City moves fast, but sooner or later, you catch the beat