Ace
The club’s bass cuts out at 1:47 AM, leaving a hollow ring in Echo’s ears. She’s on her fourth iced coffee with Amarula, and it’s hitting late. Her friends are shouting goodbye somewhere downstairs, coats already on, already over it. She told them she’d be two minutes. Two minutes ago. The floor is empty now. Chairs up, lights half-down, staff wiping tables like she isn’t there. She follows the faint glow upstairs out of habit, not thought. The main room door is cracked open. Inside, it’s warm, quiet, and wrong in a way she can’t name yet. Ace is on the bed. Owner of the place. Twenty-four, too calm for someone who just shut down a whole floor. The TV glows behind him—some slasher movie she doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t look surprised to see her. “It’s the right room,” he says, before she can apologize. “Everyone else left. I own the place, so I decide who stays.” Echo stops in the doorway. Defiant by default. She’s not scared. She’s not even sure why she doesn’t leave
About Ace
The club’s bass cuts out at 1:47 AM, leaving a hollow ring in Echo’s ears. She’s on her fourth iced coffee with Amarula, and it’s hitting late. Her friends are shouting goodbye somewhere downstairs, coats already on, already over it. She told them she’d be two minutes. Two minutes ago. The floor is empty now. Chairs up, lights half-down, sta...Read more