Lugh Everveil rolled into the neon-lit chaos of the newly minted bar, his convertible's engine still humming in the lot as he led Aiselle Starlight and Akira Lykos through the pulsing crowd.
The place was a riot—lights flashing, music thumping, bodies swaying like a storm of glitter and glee.
It was opening night, and the owner, a trust-fund rebel named Vince Reolan, had pulled out all the stops, luring in a swarm of revelers with free drinks and wild vibes.
---
Vince, a lanky guy with a grin as loud as his shirt, spotted Lugh and pounced, slinging an arm around his shoulders like they were old war buddies.
"Well, well—my man Lugh finally graces us! I've been begging you to show, and you keep ghosting me! Where you been, huh? Out chasing skirts and ditching your bros? Spill, or I'm chaining you here—booze and babes 'til you crack!"
Lugh laughed, shaking his head at Vince's theatrics.
The guy was rough around the edges—skipped more classes than he'd attended, with a mouth that could make sailors blush.
But beneath the crude swagger? A heart loyal as a hound.
In Lugh's past life, when he'd spiraled into chaos, Vince was the one who'd dragged him to the best docs, checked in like clockwork, and never bailed.
Lugh had paid it back, propping Vince up as he dove into showbiz, becoming a key player in his crew.
This time around, their bond was still ironclad.
"Been busy falling in love, man—cuts into my bar time!" Lugh said, tossing out a sheepish grin.
Vince's jaw hit the floor, his cigarette nearly tumbling.
"Love? You? What kinda goddess has you jumping through hoops? You snap your fingers, and ladies line up!"
"Jessica Snow—CEO of Snow Enterprises' hospital wing," Lugh replied, all casual, like he hadn't just named a city legend.
Vince choked, eyes bugging out.
"Jessica freakin' Snow? One of the untouchable queens of this town? Man, every guy's drooling over her! If word gets out you're wooing her, hearts'll shatter coast to coast! So, how's it going—sealed the deal yet?"
Lugh rolled his eyes, mock-offended.
"Crude, dude! I'm in a romance—all sweet and starry. Don't cheapen it with your bar talk!"
"Pfft, romance my foot!" Vince cackled, puffing smoke. "It's all about the chase—don't play saint with me!"
Lugh shook his head, smirking.
"No use arguing with a caveman like you."
Vince squinted through his haze, grinning slyly.
"So, you're going all goody-two-shoes now?"
"Goody?" Lugh scoffed, puffing up. "I've always been a model citizen, thank you very much!"
Vince roared, jabbing a finger.
"Oh, please! You're the one who dragged me into this wild life, then bailed when I got hooked! Model citizen, my ass—if you land Jessica Snow, I'm throwing you the fattest cash gift you've ever seen. Now talk—details!"
---
Mid-rant, Vince clocked the duo behind Lugh, curiosity sparking.
"Yo, who're these two?"
Lugh turned, gesturing with pride.
"Meet Aiselle Starlight—my dad's pick for secretary, sharp as a blade and twice as pretty. And this guy? Akira Lykos, my bodyguard—fists like thunder, could clear a room blindfolded. Both top-notch pals!"
Vince grinned wide, clapping Lugh's back.
"Your crew's my crew! They're welcome here anytime—drinks on the house!"
He ushered them to the VIP zone—a plush corner with a prime view of the stage, where dancers twirled under kaleidoscope lights.
The spot was already crawling with a gaggle of young models, all glittery dresses and flirty giggles.
The second they spotted Lugh, they swarmed, cooing like a flock of sparkly pigeons.
"Mr. Everveil! Mr. Reolan—y'all made it!"
Lugh waved them off, cool as a breeze.
"Head to Vince's side, ladies—I'm good!"
Vince cackled, scooping up the attention.
"Man's got his heart set—y'all ain't his type tonight! Come here, beauties—plenty of room!"
He flopped onto a sprawling sofa, one arm around a model, his vibe screaming king of the chaos.
"Everyone, park it!" Vince bellowed, gesturing to the spread of drinks and snacks. "Eat, drink, go wild—tonight's all free!"
Lugh echoed the call, plopping down with a grin.
"Yeah, make yourselves at home!"
---
Aiselle, though, paused, her sharp eyes scanning the scene.
Vince's cloud of smoke and liquor stench hit her like a brick—no thanks.
And the models, all simpering and shameless, made her skin crawl.
She weighed her options—gross or grosser?—and slid onto the seat next to Lugh, their shoulders brushing close enough to spark a static jolt.
Her cheeks flushed as she snapped, 'Don't get ideas—I just can't stand them!'
Lugh's grin turned teasing, but he nodded.
"Got it—ordered you a drink already, cool?"
She huffed, all tsundere flair.
"Hmph—guess you've got some sense!"
Lugh chuckled, shaking his head.
"This one's a firecracker."
---
Akira, meanwhile, didn't budge.
He loomed behind Lugh like a chiseled statue, all bodyguard gravitas, scanning the crowd for threats.
Vince waved him over, laughing.
"Yo, big guy, quit playing gargoyle—sit! My bar's safer than a bank vault!"
Lugh nodded, tossing him a grin.
"Yeah, Akira, chill! You've been on my tail all day—kick back, grab a drink."
"Yes, Vice President Lugh!" Akira relented, sinking into a seat nearby, his face blank but his gut twisting.
'This guy's drowning in luck!'
Lugh had Jessica Snow swooning, Aiselle glued to his side, and now models fawning left and right.
Akira, the mighty war god, was stuck playing wallflower with zero game.
'Why's his charm a magnet and mine's a dud?'