The city was wet with a morning rain, the roads still gleaming under a steel-gray sky. Elias sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Damien's car, the silence between them weighted and volatile. He hadn't spoken much since the hospital. Not after the kiss. Not after the way Damien looked at him, like he saw right through him and wanted to rip the memory out.
"You don't have to come," Damien said gruffly, turning the wheel.
"I'm not letting you do this alone," Elias muttered. "Not after what you said."
They didn't speak again until they reached The Pearl Hotel. The crime scene was sealed off, police buzzing around like flies over rot. Inside, Room 709 was a slaughterhouse masquerading as luxury. Blood had soaked into the white carpet, and red lipstick was smeared across the mirror in looping cursive: _"You promised."
The body of Jamie Luan, nineteen years old,was found laid artfully arranged on the bed. A red string tied around his wrist. Mirrors facing mirrors. A grotesque symmetry. Damien's jaw clenched remembering when he first got to this scene and found the body on the bed. He and Elias had to revisit the scene to search if more evidence could be found.
"Who found him?" Elias asked, swallowing bile.
"Maid doing a late check-in. Time of death's around 2 a.m.," said Damien.
Damien passed Elias a small bagged item. A school crest pin.
"That's my uni," Elias breathed. "He was one of us."
"You're not ready for this," Damien muttered.
"I could've been him," Elias said, fire flickering in his eyes. "I have to be ready."
Later, outside the room, Elias leaned against the corridor wall, phone buzzing. He looked down and frowned. An unknown number. He opened it.
"He was meant to die. Stay out of this, little lamb. I'm warning you and your protective Daddy"
His hands trembled as he showed Damien.
Damien's face darkened. "You're in this now. And I swear to God, if they come near you again—"
Scene Change – The Black Ribbon Club (That Night)
Damien and Elias arrived at the club disguised. Velvet curtains, low jazz, bodies in masks. They slipped money to a bouncer who led them to an attendant.
The woman behind the velvet rope recognized Jamie. "He was a favorite," she whispered. "A beautiful boy. The kind you rent, then ruin."
"Did he come here recently?" Damien asked.
The woman hesitated, then nodded. "Last week. He was chosen by someone new — not on our usual guest list. Rich. Young. Dangerous. Left a ridiculous tip."
"Name," Damien ordered.
"I never saw his face. But I heard the name whispered… Musk. The senator's son."
The Pearl's back corridors reeked of bleach and silence. Damien and Elias cornered the hotel maid in the breakroom, her apron stained and eyes darting.
"You worked that floor the night Jamie died," Damien began.
She folded her arms. "I don't want trouble."
"Good," he replied, leaning in. "Then speak."
She hesitated. "He had... clients. Powerful men. Politicians. Businessmen. Some liked it rough. Real rough. He'd leave with bruises."
Damien's tone turned icy. "Names."
"I don't know! But there was one… young, cocky. Always wore a scarf, even indoors. Senator's boy."
Elias tensed. "Alexander Musk."
They returned to Jamie's locker and found a hidden second phone tucked in a sneaker. Damien cracked the password with unnerving ease. The messages were damning:
> _"You said you'd protect me." _"You don't want the world to know who you are."
Blackmail.
Damien growled. "He was trying to get out. And they killed him for it."
Later, they confronted Alexander Musk. The young man lounged in his father's penthouse, smug and protected.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Alexander said, examining his nails.
Damien snapped. He grabbed him by the collar, slamming him against a glass wall.
"Say his name again. Say Jamie like he didn't matter."
"Damien!" Elias shouted. "You can't beat the truth out of someone!"
Damien didn't flinch. "Then tell me how to protect you, Elias! Because soft never saved anyone."
Elias stared at him, stunned. Silence stretched.
---
That night, Elias returned to the hospital. Cassian was sitting up, looking pale but smiling.
"You look like you've seen ghosts," he teased.
Elias smiled faintly. "Maybe I have."
Cassian reached for his hand. "Don't become like him. Whatever you're doing out there… don't lose this."
Elias didn't reply. He just leaned forward and kissed him. Gentle, intentional. The world stopped. Cassian wrapped his arms around him and held him, no questions asked.
________
Damien clicks through thumbnails, going through the discreet information of The Red Ribbon. Faces blur by — young men lined up like products. Red lights. Glittering masks. Private auction.
Until—
One still frame freezes.
A familiar face. Young. Soft smile. Nervous eyes.
"Hold on," Damien breathes.
Elias leans closer.
"Who is that?"
Damien doesn't answer. Just stares. His hand trembles on the mouse.
The camera angle shifts slightly.
The boy's face is undeniable now — framed in silver light, standing off to the side like he doesn't belong.
Noah.
Damien's voice, hoarse:
"He was here."
Elias turns slowly to him, chilled.
"I thought you said he never—"
"He didn't… I didn't know…"
The screen flickers. The footage ends.
A sudden silence fills the room.
Then a whisper from the club manager:
"That boy? He never came back. But someone paid a fortune for him. Said he was a rare type. Fragile. Loyal. Pure."
"Who paid?" Damien growls.
The manager swallows. Looks over his shoulder.
"They used aliases. But we called him The Red Wolf. No one said no to him."
Elias stares at Noah's frozen smile on the screen.
He could've been me. He still might be.