Evan Lee — POV
The bass vibrates through the floor, loud enough to rattle my teeth. Lights flash. Bodies move. Laughter, shouting, clinking glasses—everything I hate compressed into one suffocating room. And somehow, I'm sitting here on this velvet couch because of my troublesome cousin.
Alex lounges beside me, too relaxed for my liking. He finally sighs, lifting his head.
"Evan, can you stop staring at me like that?"
My voice slips out low, edged with warning.
"Why are we here?"
He groans. "Evo… I came back after so many years, and you're not giving me any time. God—my Evo has changed."
I stare at him, speechless. Drama prince. He always acts like the world revolves around his whims.
"You know I don't like places like this," I say quietly.
He waves me off. "Evo, you should learn how to enjoy. You look like a fifty-year-old grandpa."
"Alex…" I grit.
"Okay, okay." His smile is far too innocent. "I have a surprise for you."
