I rushed over, raising my arm to wave a bartender down—then remembered the bracelet. I held it high.
That's when I saw the blonde guy from earlier—Bastian, I think. His eyes landed on the bracelet, then travelled down to me. A flicker of recognition crossed his face… then something else. Not irritation, exactly. More like... resignation.
He leaned in, voice raised over the music. "What are you after?"
"Wait, you're a bartender?" I asked, thrown off. With his build, I'd assumed he was the bouncer.
He looked at me, unimpressed. "Bartender, sometimes DJ, and owner of Club Dusk. Bastian Ames, at your service. Now, what do you want?"
My cheeks flushed. Well, that explained the attitude about us breaking the rules. Just wait until I told Iah and Val.
"Water! With ice, please!" I blurted, voice a little too desperate. I wasn't going to lie—I was pleading.
He didn't move right away. He hesitated, eyes locking onto mine a second too long—like he was checking for something. Then, with a tight nod, he filled a glass, added ice, and slid it across the bar.
I grabbed it with shaky hands and drank like my life depended on it. My whole body was still buzzing—heart pounding, skin flushed, the music echoing through me like a ghost's touch. I pressed the glass to my forehead, willing it to cool the fire crawling beneath my skin.
I risked a look at the stage.
Howl was still up there, head lowered, lips brushing the mic.
Like nothing had happened.
Like he hadn't just sung the soul right out of my body and into his perfect hands.
I turned back. Bastian was watching me. Not with amusement. He looked... assessing. Eyes narrowed, jaw set.
"What?" I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice came out rough.
"You alright?" he asked. He actually looked concerned.
"I—yeah. Just hot. That crowd, it was intense."
He nodded slowly. Too slowly.
"You're not the first," he said. "The band has… an effect."
The way he said it made me pause. Not teasing. Not casual. It sounded… practised. Like he'd said it before. I don't know why, but it annoyed me. I decided to pry further.
"Meaning what, exactly?"
I cringed at how defensive I sounded. That made Bastian smirk as he leaned over the bar, resting his arms on the countertop.
"Well, just like any fan of the band—some cry, some swoon, some get a bit… frisky."
He inclined his head toward the crowd.
I turned to see exactly what he was talking about. Couples locked in deep embrace—some kissing, some full-on grinding against one another—moving to the beat like they were under a spell. At the front of the stage, men and women stood with arms outstretched, eyes glassy with lust. They wanted a hit of that ecstasy. Howl was giving it to them—leaning close but staying just out of reach, his gaze beckoning as he caressed the mic. When he stopped singing to strum his guitar, his fingers barely grazed the strings. He thrust his hips forward, and the crowd devoured it.
I turned back to Bastian, the heat of embarrassment colouring my cheeks.
But that wasn't what I had experienced.
I'd had a full-on vision of the two of us—and it had felt real.
I felt his hands on me. I felt the heat of his breath on my neck. I felt his arousal as he abruptly pulled me against him.
I shook my head slightly, murmuring more to myself than to him, "Well, that's not what I felt…"
Bastian heard me. His gaze sharpened. "Sorry, did you say 'felt'?"
I froze. "No, I uh…never mind."
He didn't let it go. His voice dropped an octave, not aggressive, just…focused. "What did you experience?"
The air around us shifted and I felt trapped.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn't say it. He would think I was mad. Any sane person would. Not to mention saying it out loud would mean it was real – and I still wasn't sure I hadn't imagined the whole thing.
"I just need to use the bathroom," I said quickly, backing away. "Too much water, I guess." I shrugged and popped the glass down on the bar. I turned quickly and ran towards the ladies. I didn't have to look back to see if he was still watching me. I could feel it.
I burst through the bathroom doors and, thankfully, found it empty. Probably everyone else was still lost in the music outside, caught up in the heat of the gig. The olive green tiled walls here muffled the sound, but I could still catch Howl's voice—mournful and melodic—slithering through the cracks, wrapping around me like a ghostly thread.
The air was cooler—a relief against the fire still burning beneath my skin. Dampness clung to the cracked tiles, mingling with the sharp sting of bleach—a scent that spoke of age and neglect. It wasn't clean, but it was a refuge. The dim lighting, paired with the musty dampness, made it feel more like an underground dungeon.
Outside, the dance floor was a chaos of smells: stale sweat, spilled alcohol, and a heady mix of perfumes, sweet and sharp, swirling together in a dizzying cocktail. Here, in this faded sanctuary, the world felt momentarily slowed, as if time was holding its breath.
I headed to one of the sinks and splashed cold water on my face, careful not to ruin the eye makeup Val had painstakingly perfected. Then, with my chilled hands, I pressed the dampness to the back of my neck and tilted my head up, trying to steady my breathing.
Finally, I looked at myself in the mirror.
I was a flushed, sweaty mess. My perfect curls were gone, replaced with wild beach waves. My eye makeup had gone from glamorous to full pirate mode—liner smudged and running. I grabbed some paper towels and tried to salvage what I could.
Good luck with that. You're a mess.
That little voice in my head always knew when to chime in. And it wasn't wrong. I was a mess physically, mentally and emotionally.
I was in a committed relationship with a good guy. Carter was everything I should want. And yet… here I was, having the most impure thoughts about a musician with, let's be real here, an ego the size of Averon City. He probably loved people throwing themselves at him. Got off on it.
I was reaching—grasping for any reason to put myself off him. I swiped under my right eye, trying to revive some hint of a cat-eye. My green eyes popped—brightened by the makeup, the alcohol, and maybe the shame. I mirrored the motion on the other eye, fixing the angle. But staring at myself just brought him back.
His eyes. Intense. Calculated. The loveliest shade of violet.
The dark liner I wore made me think of how his eyes glowed beneath the shadows of his makeup. Like a beacon of beauty breaking through the dark.
A sudden vibration in my chest made me jump.
I'd forgotten I'd tucked my phone into my corset. I was amazed it hadn't fallen out.
I fished it out, grimacing at how slick it was with sweat. Classy. I wiped it off on another towel and turned it on—only for my heart to sink.
More missed calls from Carter. A string of messages, each more desperate than the last:
Hey, I'm sorry about today. Can we talk?
Why aren't you picking up, El?
Are you really this mad?
I'm at your house. Where are you?
El, talk to me please. Where are you?
This… wasn't like him. Why was he acting like this? Couldn't he handle a little silent treatment for one night?
I bit the inside of my lip. I needed to calm him down—just for tonight. I'd send a message, let him know I was out, and then ignore my phone for the rest of the night.
But how to even word it? "Soz, out with the girls" didn't quite cover it.
I typed:
Hey Carter, sorry. Val and Iah showed up to take me out for my birthday as a surprise. Just at Club Dusk and will be home late. I'll call you tomorrow and we can chat about everything. Have a good night x
Yeah. That ought to do it.
I didn't wait for a reply. I switched my phone to airplane mode and tucked it — again — into my corset. I wasn't really looking forward to that chat.
What could we even compromise on?
I'd show him drawings of my visions — the dead figure, the stranger, those strange symbols — and he'd pretend everything was normal? Sure. That'll happen.
I glanced at my reflection.
A sad face stared back.
Why had his messages sobered me up so quickly?
I thought back to earlier, when Val and Iah had surprised me. For the first time in ages, I'd felt something real — happiness.
My friends were back. Around them, I could breathe a little easier. Be more myself.
But even with them, I'd kept so much inside. It had taken a few drinks just to admit the truth. About Carter.
How I cared for him, yes... but how he couldn't leave it alone. Always pushing to see my art. Always wanting more than I was ready to give.
These dreams, these dark sketches — they weren't his to see. They weren't anyone's.
My eyes met the mirror again, betraying the sadness I tried to ignore. I sighed.
He needed to back off.
And if he couldn't?
Then maybe it was time he let me go entirely.
My thoughts drifted back to earlier that night—standing in line outside the club, only to watch Iah waltz through the back entrance without a care. I'd followed her, playing the responsible one. But if I was truly honest with myself?
I liked it. The thrill. The danger.
It was exciting. Daring. Different. And maybe that's what this whole place was about. Club Dusk. A space where you could shed the rules and become whoever you wanted to be.
Maybe that's why I'd had that vision of Howl.
I caught my reflection smirking. A slow, seductive smile.
Maybe my imagination is just that good.
Maybe it showed me what I really wanted from a man. Not just passion—but curiosity. Hunger. A desire to learn what makes me squirm. Slow. Inquisitive. Intentional.
Carter was… fast. Predictable. Repetitive.
And always left me wanting—just not in the way he thought.
The bathroom door burst open.
"Leni! There you are!"
I turned quickly to see Iah shove the door wide, practically skipping over to me. She wrapped me in a tight hug and planted a loud kiss on my cheek with a dramatic "Mwah!"
Val followed, attempting to walk elegantly but wobbling just enough to betray the effort. She looped her arm around me and purred,
"Where have you been, darling? We completely lost you in the crowd."
I'd been expecting this. No way was I explaining the hallucination, so I stuck as close to the truth as I could.
"Well, after the DJ finished, I ended up near the front. The music and drinking must've gotten a bit intense, so I headed to the bar for water, then popped in here to freshen up."
I added a casual smile, hoping it would be enough.
Iah and Val exchanged a look — not exactly buying it — and then smirked.
"So," Val drawled, "which one caught your fancy, then?"
Crap. Crap. Crap.
"I've no idea what you're talking about," I said quickly, turning to fuss with my already-fixed makeup.
"Val, take over, I need to pee," Iah announced, heading into one of the stalls.
I stared after her, and Val rolled her eyes.
"Must we get a proclamation for every bodily function?" she muttered.
"I heard that!" came Iah's indignant voice from behind the door.
Girls aren't as glamorous as we pretend.
I shook my head and turned back to Val.
"Take over what?"
Val just grinned at me wickedly.
"We saw you, Elena."
The room dropped a degree in temperature. My heart skipped a beat.
"Saw me?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. What exactly had they seen?
"Wait for me!" Iah called over the sound of a flush. She hurried out, washed her hands, flicked the water everywhere like a toddler, then finally grabbed a paper towel. Val stared her down the entire time, flicking her hair behind her shoulders in silent judgement.
Just as Val opened her mouth to speak, Iah, of course, jumped in.
"We saw you having a very… intimate moment. Shall we say. With yourself."
My jaw dropped.
"What?" was all I managed to squeak.
Iah launched into story time.
"OK, during the break between songs, we came to find you. And there you were. up against the wall. Stroking your arms. Your neck. Not like you were drunk—more like you were in a trance. While staring at the band. It was kinda hot, if we're honest."
She paused, raising an eyebrow.
"So… which one got under your skin like that?"
I was frozen. I had been mirroring him—every touch, every breath, like a puppet on invisible strings. In public. Where anyone could've seen. My chest tightened. My breathing picked up. I turned and rushed into one of the stalls, slammed the door, and locked it. I sank onto the toilet, head between my knees, trying to breathe.
This couldn't be happening. How had I mimicked every single thing he did — like I was under a spell?
What kind of messed-up shit was happening to me?
This was nuts. Did anyone else go through stuff like this? Or was I just the chosen one for freaky hallucinations?
I just wanted a carefree night out — drinking, laughing, dancing, maybe a little flirting. Not to be seduced by a hallucination and start caressing myself in public like some sort of repressed nymphomaniac!
Mortified didn't even begin to cover it.
My thoughts flashed back to the way the crowd had looked while I was talking to Bastian—glazed over, swaying, flushed. They weren't just into the music. It was like they were caught in a haze of pleasure, a sea of ecstasy.
Perhaps I was lucky that only my friends saw me. Still embarrassing for them to see me in a state of lust, of course.
"Leni?" I heard Iah say carefully. "We didn't mean to make fun, we just wanted to know what was going on with you." I sighed heavily. Maybe I should just tell them. Blame the alcohol. Laugh it off.
I stood, inhaled slowly, and let it out in a long exhale before unlocking the door.
Clarity… my mind spoke softly.
I opened the stall door to find Iah and Val looking a bit more sober than before, their faces lined with the same quiet concern.
"Ladies, I'm fine. Just embarrassed, that's all," I said quickly. "It must've been the strength of those drinks. And the music... Howl's voice just kind of mesmerised me. Maybe I got a little too into it?" I tried to sound casual, but Val and Iah exchanged a glance and smiled knowingly.
"So… Howl, then?" Iah asked, her voice light but with a hint of excitement. Val's mischievous grin grew wider. Crap. I shouldn't have mentioned him.
"Interesting choice darling, not really your type, but interesting," Val said, looking at me like I'd suddenly changed. What on earth did she mean by that?
"True," Iah added with a teasing smile. "I'd have thought you'd be more into the drummer. Blonde hair and all that."
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "I'm not into anyone," I insisted. "It was the music, alright?"
Curious despite myself, I added, "But what do you mean, my type?"
Iah hesitated, then shrugged lightly, her eyes flickering away before meeting mine again with something softer, almost careful.
"Well, you always seem to go for the 'boy next door' type," she said matter-of-factly. "The safe ones, the familiar faces."
I frowned, caught off guard by how… personal that felt. Were my choices really that obvious?
"They never really see you, though," Iah continued. "At least, not the real you. Just the perfect version they expect."
I was taken aback — this was a bit much for club bathroom talk. Val stayed quiet through the whole exchange, almost like she didn't know what to say. Iah smiled and quickly cleared her throat, breaking the moment.
"C'mon," she said with a playful grin, "what are we doing in here anyway? Let's get Leni back out there so she can perve on Howl a bit more." And just like that, she was back to her usual self. I glared at her.
"I was not perving on him! I have a boyfriend, remember?" Val jumped in.
"Oh Elena, live a little. You're just window shopping. You don't have to try anything on." She winked. Iah tried to hold back her laughter at the metaphor but failed miserably.
"Trust the princess to make a shopping reference," she cackled finally. I couldn't help but giggle as Val playfully swiped at Iah. I sighed and smiled fondly at my friends. Though they couldn't make me feel better about the hallucination they always managed to make me feel somewhat normal.
"C'mon you two," I chastised them. "You are worse than toddlers."
We stepped out of the bathroom, immediately swallowed by the booming music of Howl by Night. I followed my friends, Iah bouncing toward the bar, Val gliding behind her with elegant poise. I glanced up and saw Howl playing guitar again, probably mid-song or nearing the end. His gaze swept the crowd and, for a moment, it felt like he was staring right at me. Then he smiled. My eyes widened. No way! That couldn't be real. The stage lights would have been blinding, especially from all the way at the back of the crowd. Clearly, I was wishful thinking.
I looked away and hurried after my friends. Iah was already at the bar, waving her arm with the bracelet. Suddenly, I made a rash decision: no more alcohol tonight. I ran up to her just before she ordered. "I'm only having a cola," I said quickly. She looked surprised but just shrugged.
Relieved, I turned away — then I heard Bastian's voice when he spotted her bracelet.
"If it isn't the wee rebel," he smirked, casually leaning on the bar.
I stole a sideways glance at Iah and caught her smiling warmly. Maybe she liked the nickname… or maybe she liked who said it.
"How's the girl?" Iah asked genuinely.
"Aye, she's alright. Woke up and drank plenty of water. I ordered a taxi for her, sent her straight home. Things can get a bit much in here. I'm sure your friend knows what I mean," he teased.
Unreal! I turned to scold him, but his smile was warm and charming. Honestly, was everyone in this place drop-dead gorgeous? I glanced back at the stage, watching Howl and his band still wrapped up in the same song, sharing looks and laughs as they played.
"What can I get you three troublemakers this time?" Bastian asked. Iah chuckled.
"Though that pink sparkling wine was divine. I'm curious what awesome cocktails you can make. Something tells me you make the best…"
She was definitely flirting. Both Val and I exchanged looks as we watched the spectacle unfold. Her eyes dropped slightly, her chest pushed up a little as she spoke to him. I mouthed to Val, "No way!"
Speaking of people not being someone's type… Iah and Bastian were as different as chalk and cheese.
Bastian smirked.
"For you, small lady, I think I can whip up something special."
"Oh, Leni here prefers a mocktail," Iah said, inclining her head toward me. "She's off the sauce for the rest of the night."
Bastian nodded in understanding, his blue eyes saying more than they should. Then, without a word, he got to work. Moving to the beat of the music, we watched in awe as he flipped glasses onto the bar with practiced flair. He juggled small bottles of liquor before grabbing two shakers—one for Iah and Val, the other just for me—and started to mix like he was performing for the crowd.
He poured a black liquid into two glasses, then cola into mine. Mixing the cola with a black powder, he made my drink match my friends'. Next, he poured a deep red liquid from the shakers, creating a stunning gradient from deep black to bright blood red.
Finally, Bastian topped off each drink with a wedge of blood orange. We were all gobsmacked by the stunning presentation.
He placed straws in the glasses and slid them towards us, arms folded, patiently waiting for our verdict.
"Oh my God, it's delicious," I said and then in unison, we started making little "yummy" noises. Bastian nodded with a proud smile.
"Okay, you're the best. Hands down!" Iah exclaimed.
Bastian chuckled and shook his head, then leaned over the bar towards Iah.
"Now, if you don't mind, I need to get back to serving actual customers. Enjoy, ladies."
With that, he turned and moved on.
Iah gaped for a moment, then smirked. Val grinned at her and teased,
"Wow, left speechless. I like this guy — he knows how to keep you quiet."
Iah shot her a sharp glare, but it faded quickly. I caught the brief, quiet glance she cast towards Bastian as she sipped her drink.
Behind us, the song ended and the crowd erupted in cheers. I watched the band fiddling with their instruments while Howl took a swig from a dark beer resting on a stool at the back of the stage.
I sipped my mocktail, unable to look away. The way he moved, the way he carried himself — his expressions — they demanded my full attention. I'd never seen anyone quite like him.
He walked back up to the microphone.
"Alright, my delicious Duskers. It's time for the final song, and then I'll hand you back to our wonderful DJ."
A ripple of disappointment passed through the crowd. I felt it too — a pang of sadness at the thought of their set ending.
Honestly, I was really into their music — a brilliant blend of 70s and 80s rock with hints of historical classical melodies woven in. It was something special.
Though, of course, I'd forever be loyal to Fuse. Still, I wouldn't mind owning a couple of albums by Howl by Night.
My thoughts were interrupted when a siren-like wail split the air — guitar, but barely. It sounded like a scream stretched into melody, haunting and electric. I saw Howl playing the two notes back and forth, and in a crescendo, his band burst into the main theme of the song. He breathed into the microphone with a husky, sultry, "Ah, ah, ah."
Then the music calmed, Raven on her keyboard continued the siren-like sound on her synth, giving Howl the opening to sing with a soft growl into the mic:
You've been so good all your life
Paid your dues and your soul.
Went through the grind
And didn't break your mould,
But then you dream about the dusk…
I froze.
The crowd were going wild — even Iah and Val were wooing and having the time of their lives. But all I could do was listen. Not to his voice, but to his words. They flowed to me, cut through me, speaking on a whole new level.
He moved into the next verse, and I realised I was holding my breath.
You are truly perfection, they say
But they refuse to see your cracks and faults.
I see your perfect imperfections,
Your jagged beauty, your black heart so bold.
Everything until now had been about love — either romantic, or raw and revealing. But this? This was something else entirely. He was opening up his soul.
His operatic wails wrapped around the lyrics, echoing inside me, stirring something deep. I felt the weight of it — that burden of expectation.
Perfect imperfections…
I closed my eyes and let it sink in. This was what I had yearned for. Iah was right — I wanted someone to see me. Not the illusion. Not the good girl. Me.
I opened my eyes, and for a split second, I thought he was staring at me — no, into me.
And I stared back, wanting him to see.
But then it hit me.
He didn't write those lyrics for me.
He wrote them about himself.
He felt this, too. The pressure, the performance, the lie.
I get it, Howl. I know how you feel, I wanted to scream back at him.
Into the dusk, all truths are bared
Darkness shows us for who we are
No more light, no need to pretend —
Just shadows now, our hearts will mend.
The chorus was breathtaking.
The harmonies sung by Raven and Howl echoed around the club, vibrating through the floor and crawling up my spine. Shivers rippled across my skin, and I couldn't tell if it was the music or the moment. Maybe both.
I stayed rooted to the spot, sipping from my drink only now and then, my body frozen in stillness while the sound moved through me. Every part of me felt connected to the song. Sometimes I closed my eyes to truly hear it. Really feel it, and other times I opened them just to watch him. Howl.
There was something sacred about it. This song, this was the band's soul laid bare. Not just Howl, but each of them. The way they played, eyes half-lidded or closed, fully consumed by the sound — it wasn't just performance. It was something more.
This wasn't "once more with feeling."
This was feeling.
The other songs had been for the crowd — fun, flirty, electric. But this one?
This was for them.
And somehow, it was also for me.
The song ended, and I found myself smiling at the band. I even let out a small "Woo!" in appreciation — barely above the ringing in my ears. I turned to find Iah and Val… but instead, Valda stood right next to me.
When had she arrived?
She didn't look at me. Her gaze was locked on the stage, her expression sour, almost irritated.
I ignored her and turned back just in time to see the band blowing kisses and waving as the crowd erupted in cheers and whistles.
A moment later, Iah and Val reappeared beside me. They'd clearly noticed Valda too. The DJ kicked in again, shifting the atmosphere, and the clubbers began to dance to the beat.
Eventually, she peeled her eyes from the stage and turned to face us. That annoyed scowl had vanished, replaced with a sly, almost cruel smile.
"Gods, you three look a mess," she said sweetly. "I suppose it'll have to do for the after party. Come."
Without waiting for a reply, she pivoted and strode past the spiral staircase like she owned the place.
We didn't dare keep her waiting.
So we followed.