60. Chapter 55 #3
“Time to make things a little more interesting,” Alexander declared, pulling out a smal l glass vial. It was slim, simple, yet elegant—designed for a different kind of luxury. The contents shimmered faintly under the lights, and Bas felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
“What is that?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Want a hit?” Alexander replied casually, bringing the tiny opening to his nose. His movements were smooth, almost practiced. A sharp inhale, then he tilted his head back, eyes closed. “This is what it’s all about,” he murmured with a satisfied smile before looking up again.
Bas stood frozen, arms crossed, his chest tightening with a mix of unease and resistance. The music around him seemed to pound louder, thudding against his ribs, as Alexander held out the vial.
“Your turn, man,” he said, as if it were nothing. "Trust me, after this, you’ll see the world with completely different eyes."
Bas looked at the vial first, then at Alexander. His eyes were slightly glazed now, but his grin remained unwavering.
"No," Bas said simply, his voice calm, his gaze steady. "I don’t need drugs to have a good time."
Alexander studied him for a moment, as if trying to figure out if he really meant it. Eventually, he just shrugged, slipped the vial back into his pocket, and leaned back against the bar with a contented sigh.
"Your choice. But you’re missing out."
Bas didn’t reply. Instead, he let his gaze wander through the room, feeling a strange warmth settle in his chest. The lights seemed brighter, the crowd denser, the air heavier.
Something about this place felt off—foreign, but not in the intriguing way Alexander tried to make it seem.
Yet, oddly enough, there was something tempting about the grime, the rawness of it all.
Alexander, on the other hand, was completely in his element. His movements grew smoother, almost exaggeratedly relaxed, his laughter occasionally cutting through the music. But none of it felt real to Bas.
"This is freedom, bro," Alexander eventually called over the bass, his eyes gleaming with euphoria. "Real, untamed freedom."
Bas let the words hang in the air, letting them roll off him. Freedom? To him, this felt mor e like a cage—just one dressed in flashing lights and loud music.
The room continued to pulse with the beat, and now that the first wave of discomfort had begun to fade, Bas felt a strange sense of belonging creep in. It was loud, chaotic, and yet, maybe because of that, he felt alive.
"You know," Alexander started, taking another sip from his glass, "in New York, no one gives a damn who you are, where you come from, or what you do. The only thing that matters is who you want to be tonight. Your name? Your money? None of it matters."
Bas raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like bullshit. Everyone here looks like they’re just waiting to be noticed."
Alexander laughed—a short, rough chuckle that sounded more like agreement than denial.
"Of course. But the difference is, here, they’re trying to be someone they actually like. Not just what Mommy and Daddy expect them to be."
Bas let the words sink in for a moment as he set his glass down on the bar. "So, you're saying New York is authenticity in chaos?"
"Exactly." Alexander turned toward him, leaning one elbow on the counter. "Here, you can show your dark sides, live out your craziest ideas. No one’s gonna judge you for it. Do you know how rare that is?"
Bas scoffed quietly but couldn’t hide the slight smirk tugging at his lips.
"And you think I have dark sides?"
"Everyone does," Alexander replied with an amused grin. "The question is, when will you let yourself show them? Santa B is holding you back, isn’t it? All those rules. What you can say. What you can’t. How you’re supposed to act.
What impression you make. Here? No one gives a damn about impressions. "
Uff…
Bas didn’t answer, but he couldn’t deny that something about Alexander’s words struck a nerve. New York did have a different energy. It was dirtier, more honest—and maybe that was exactly what he had been missing.
"What's holding you back?" Alexander asked suddenly, taking another sip from his glass .
"From what?" Bas gave him a questioning look.
"From letting go. Here. Now. Just being who you really are."
Alexander’s gaze was unexpectedly serious, almost like a challenge.
Bas wanted to reply, throw out some sarcastic remark, but the words stuck in his throat. He looked around. The lights, the people, the music—everything here screamed at him to let go. And yet, the idea of truly surrendering control felt like a dangerous line to cross.
"Maybe," he finally said, "because I can’t let go all at once."
Alexander studied him, his grin widening. "Soon, you’ll have plenty of time to let go."
His tone was casual, but the words carried more weight than he was letting on. Bas was about to ask what he meant when, suddenly, two girls appeared beside them—out of nowhere.
Alexander immediately raised his hand, greeting Leah with a broad grin, as if she were the main event of the night. She smiled, but it was a tired smile—one that felt more like a mask than real joy.
"Leah! Jenny!" Alexander called over the pounding music. "I knew I’d see you here."
She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Alex, you’re seriously everywhere, aren’t you?" She stepped closer, and Alexander threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a loose hug.
"Of course," he said, winking. "But I’ve never seen you without your watchdog. What’s up? A fight?"
Leah’s expression shifted instantly, her smile vanishing. "You could say that," she murmured, lifting her gaze to him. "He… he’s been difficult lately."
Bas watched her as she spoke. Her tone was tense, her shoulders slightly hunched, and he could tell there was more she wasn’t saying. He was about to ask when a shadow suddenly fell over them.
"And who’s your new friend?" The other girl, Jenny, asked with a sultry glance at Bas.
How the hell do I explain this to Evin? Bas swallowed. She’d kill me if she knew how these girls were looking at me. The thought almost made him smile, but he pushed it aside when a loud voice suddenly cut through the music.
"Leah!"
The voice was deep and rough, and Bas immediately felt the energy in the air shift. He turned around and saw a guy pushing through the crowd. Broad-shouldered, tattooed arms, and eyes that cut through the chaos like a blade. His jaw was tense, brows furrowed, his cold gaze burning with anger.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped, stopping right in front of her. Leah took a step back, her face pale, but she didn’t answer.
"I asked you a question, Leah!" His voice sharpened, rising in volume as he took another step toward her. "Standing around like some slut, talking to random guys while I’m looking for you?"
"Hey, man, relax," Alexander cut in, his tone still casual but carrying a quiet warning. "We’re just talking. No big deal."
Bas felt something inside him stir at the guy’s aggressive stance. It was like a switch flipping inside him. His breath shortened, and that dark, impulsive side of him—the one he tried to keep buried—started clawing its way up.
The guy ignored them completely, his eyes locked onto Leah. "You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?" His voice dropped, but the menace remained. "I take my eyes off you for two seconds… You’re so damn cheap."
And then he grabbed her.
His hand clamped around her arm, rough, unyielding. Leah flinched, trying to pull away, but he held on tight.
"We’re leaving," he hissed. "Now."
At that moment, something inside Bas shut down.
The sight of his grip on Leah’s arm sent something burning through him, something deep, something old. His breath turned shallow, and the world around him faded until all that remained was that hand on her skin.
"Let her go," Bas said, his voice low and sharp.
The guy turned slowly, scanning Bas from head to toe.
"And who the fuck are you? Her little prince?" The irony in his tone had a bitter edge .
"If only you knew," Bas muttered, voice laced with something dark.
The tattooed guy yanked Leah even closer, her face twisting in pain.
"I said, let her go," Bas repeated, louder this time, his gaze locked onto the guy. The darkness in him stirred again, heat surging from his chest to his hands.
"And what if I don’t?" The guy let out a rough chuckle, but before he could say another word, Bas lunged.
The guy grinned, opened his mouth—but Bas didn’t give him the chance.
His fist connected with the guy’s cheekbone, hard. For a moment, everything froze. Leah stumbled to the side, breaking free from his grip. Shit. This had been a bad idea from the start.
Though the guy recovered quickly, he crashed into a group of nearby guests.
And then the whole scene exploded.
"You little bastard!"
He charged at Bas, and the crowd reacted instantly. Some girls screamed, others shoved forward to get a better view, while others instinctively backed away. But the tight space made every movement chaotic.
The guy’s punch landed hard against Bas’s right eye. Pain flared, sharp and hot, but instead of slowing him down, it made him feel more awake. Bas grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him back with full force.
The guy crashed into another guest, who immediately started yelling, "Dude, what the fuck?!"
Suddenly, Leah’s boyfriend wasn’t just focused on Bas anymore—he had pissed off the wrong person.
"Bas, watch out!" Alexander’s voice cut through the music just before he jumped into the chaos himself.
One of the guy’s friends had rushed toward Bas, but Alexander got to him first. His fist slammed into the guy’s chest, and things spiraled further out of control.
People were getting shoved, drinks were spilling, and suddenly, the entire dance floor was mo ving. The pulsing bass was like an invisible fuel, feeding the rage spreading through the room.
I should stop. I should stop.
Next to him, Alexander shouted, "Bro, we gotta get out of here! Now!" But Bas could barely think, let alone stop.
Then he felt a firm grip on his arm.
"Bas!"
Alexander yanked him back, nearly pulling him off his feet.
Bas stumbled, gasping, as the world around him grew louder and brighter.
They fought their way through the crowd, which was now more of a frantic mob than a party.
Only now did Bas fully realize the extent of the fight he had started.
The pain in his knuckles yanked him back to reality, but the fire inside him refused to die down.
Evin's face flickered through his mind like a warning, and for a split second, he felt the weight of his actions crashing down on him. Nausea crept up his throat.
"There!" Alexander shouted, pointing to a side door that stood slightly open.
They ran, stumbling through the exit, straight into the cold night.
The air hit Bas like a slap—sharp, crisp, filled with the distant sound of sirens. He doubled over, hands on his knees, his heart slamming against his ribs.
Alexander grinned, clapping him on the back.
"That was insane. You’re completely fucking crazy, man."
Bas didn’t respond. His hands trembled, and his chest rose and fell sharply. But deep down, something unsettled him: he had felt alive. Too alive. The tension in his chest grew, as if a steel knot had formed there, tightening with each passing moment.
The metallic taste in my mouth, the shouts of the other guests, the pounding in my knuckles—it was all still there. What the hell is wrong with me?
“This city isn’t for me,” he muttered under his breath.
The adrenaline rush gradually gave way to reality, and Bas felt his breathing slow.
The cold air lashed against his burning skin, and he could hear Alexander’s labo red breathing beside him.
Neither of them spoke as they rounded the corner to where the SUV was waiting.
His gaze darted around, catching the faint, flickering glow of streetlights piercing through the nighttime haze.
When they reached the vehicle, the driver got out without a word and opened the door. Alexander nodded at him before climbing into the back seat, followed by Bas.
Once the doors clicked shut, Bas leaned against the window, his forehead pressed against the cold glass. The city lights swept past, smearing into streaks against the darkness. Next to him, Alexander propped his feet up on the seat in front of them, exhaling deeply.
“Damn, that was close,” Alexander finally said, a grin stretching across his face as though he was still riding the high of the last few minutes. “But come on, that was incredible. You really put that guy in his place.”
Bas didn’t move a muscle. “That was stupid,” he murmured. “It could’ve gone a lot worse.”
Alexander waved him off. “Worse? Man, that was perfect. Besides, guys like that deserve it. It’s been ages since I had this much fun.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the door pocket, took a long gulp, and leaned back. “Too bad the summer won’t be as great.”
Bas turned his head, a skeptical look on his face. “What do you mean?”
Alexander shrugged and sighed. “I mean I’ll be in California. No epic parties, no legendary nights. A total waste, bro.”
Bas furrowed his brow. “Then let’s spend the summer together in California.”
Alexander chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “That’s not gonna happen, genius. You’re staying here in New York.”
Bas blinked. “What? No. Why would you even think that? I don’t get what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, your dad really didn’t tell you?” Alexander looked at him with a bemused grin. “You’re doing an internship at my dad’s company. I thought you knew that already.”
For a moment, Bas just stared at him. His heart began to race, a lump forming in his thr oat. “What the hell are you talking about?” he finally snapped. “I’m not doing an internship in New York.”
Alexander held his hands up, as if trying to calm him down. “Hey, I was just as surprised when my dad told me. Apparently, our dads worked it out weeks ago. Summer internship. I’m going to California to work for your dad, and you’re coming here.”
Heat surged through Bas’s chest, his blood pounding in his ears. Another one of his father’s shameless attempts to separate us? The thought hit him like a punch. “That can’t be true,” he said at last, his voice low but taut. “My dad hasn’t said a word about it.”
Alexander shrugged again. “Well, now you’ve heard it from me. Looks like you’re gonna be a New Yorker this summer. Congrats!”