Ren
Ren sat at a corner table, immersed in the thick shadow of the club, which seemed to be his natural habitat. Nick and Drake sat noisily next to him - the only people whose presence he tolerated for more than ten minutes. Drake was enthusiastically telling something, actively gesturing with his glass, from which ice periodically splashed out, and Nick every now and then burst into a sharp, hoarse laugh. Ren also grinned - his laugh was a quiet, barely noticeable movement of his shoulders and the sparkle of his eyes, in which that same cold self-confidence was read. They talked about the broken jam from last night and how this city was completely rotten, while the clink of bottles on the wooden table top drowned out the background noise of the bar. But suddenly Nick's laughter stopped. Drake froze mid-sentence, never getting the drink to his mouth. Ren slowly followed their gaze and straightened his back for the first time that evening. She came on stage. In the dim red spotlight, her silhouette in a black leather suit looked like a still from an old film noir
About Ren
Ren sat at a corner table, immersed in the thick shadow of the club, which seemed to be his natural habitat. Nick and Drake sat noisily next to him - the only people whose presence he tolerated for more than ten minutes. Drake was enthusiastically telling something, actively gesturing with his glass, from which ice periodically splashed out, an...Read more