It had been a day since Nick’s awkward, frustrating visit to Riel’s brownstone apartment. A full twenty-four hours, and he still hadn’t heard from his mom again, which was odd. Normally, she’d be following up, checking in, nagging him to follow through. But so far, radio silence.

Nick sat at the small, wobbly table in his dorm room, staring at a half-empty bowl of instant ramen. The soup was barely warm now, and he wasn’t really tasting it. It was just something to eat. His room smelled faintly of noodles, soy sauce, and the cheap, processed ingredients that had quickly become his go-to meals since moving. He had already made a couple of trips to the corner store down the street, grabbing ramen and canned goods—enough that the store clerk had given him a knowing look the last time he was there.His phone buzzed on the table, and for a second, he expected it to be his mom. A text from her, asking if he’d gotten any further with Riel. That would be just like her. But when he picked it up, he felt a small wave of relief.

It was from his sister.

Sis: You still alive? Or did NYC eat you?

Nick: Barely. Running on ramen fumes.

Sis: Let me guess. Instant noodles and coffee? Classic Nick diet. Seriously though, how’s it going?

Nick smiled a little, settling back in his chair. At least his sister’s texts were something he could deal with.

Nick: Yeah. Moving’s fine. Just trying to figure out the city. It’s... big.

Sis: You mean YOU’RE lost in a straight line. How’s the social life? Made any friends, or are you just wandering around like a noodle-eating zombie?

Nick: Yep. Wandering noodle zombie, exactly.

Nick shook his head. His sister always had a way of making him laugh, even when he barely had the energy. He wasn’t much of a talker, and she knew that. Her texts came in fast and loud, while his replies were short, dry. Somehow, it worked.

Sis: Don’t become one of those dudes who can only make friends with the guy at the corner store.

Nick: Too late. Me and the ramen guy are basically best friends now. He says hi, by the way.

Sis: Ugh, you’re hopeless. Mom says hi too. Probably gonna text you soon. Have fun with that.

Nick grimaced. He could always count on his sister to give him a heads-up. He tossed the phone onto the table again, running a hand through his hair. His mom wouldn’t stay quiet for long, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the Riel situation yet. Not until he had to.

Nick stood up and stretched, glancing at the clock. He still had the rest of the day to kill before meeting Luke in the evening. With any luck, the distraction would get his mind off all of this—at least for a little while.

----

Later that evening, Nick wandered into a small bar just off campus. It wasn’t anything special, just the kind of place where students could hang out without being hassled too much about IDs. The dim lighting and cheap drinks gave it a low-key vibe that matched Nick’s mood perfectly.

Nick hadn’t fully adjusted to New York life yet. He’d been in the city for a few days, settling into his dorm, navigating the crowded streets, and figuring out how to get by on a limited budget. He wasn’t used to the constant hum of traffic, the overwhelming noise of the city, or the way it seemed to swallow him whole. But he figured, over time, he’d get used to it.

The scholarship he’d gotten was the reason he was here at all—not for playing a sport, but for his grades. He had applied on a whim, and when NYU sent back an offer, he hadn’t been able to turn it down. A mix of merit and financial aid had covered enough of the costs, and his mom had been thrilled. He’d ended up at one of the most prestigious schools in the country, right in the middle of Manhattan.

But, damn, the city felt like a lot. NYU’s campus was spread across different parts of the city, blending in with its surroundings rather than standing out like a traditional college. There wasn’t the cozy, enclosed feeling of a typical campus; instead, the city felt endless, a maze of buildings and streets.

Tonight, though, the bar was a welcome retreat from the intensity of it all. He was meeting Luke, his old friend from high school. Luke had been in New York for a year now, attending Fordham University on a full-ride soccer scholarship. It wasn’t like they were best friends, but there was something easy about reconnecting with someone from home. Luke didn’t expect too much.

When Nick entered the bar, it didn’t take long for him to spot Luke waving him over from a corner booth. Luke was already nursing a beer, leaning back in his seat with that same laid-back smirk Nick remembered from high school. His blonde hair was tousled, and his sharp gray eyes lit up with amusement as he saw Nick. There was an ease to Luke’s posture, a kind of effortless charm that had always made him stand out back home.

“Nick! Look at you, finally in the city.” Luke grinned, motioning for him to sit. “How’s it feel to be a real New Yorker now?”

Nick shrugged, sliding into the booth across from him. “Haven’t decided yet. City’s still a bit much.”

Luke laughed, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, you’ll get used to it. First week’s always weird. You figure out your spots, find your rhythm.”

Nick nodded. He was still trying to figure out his rhythm, though it felt more like he was stumbling through each day, half-lost in the chaos. “It’s different,” he said. “NYU’s... big. Not like a normal campus. You kinda get thrown into the middle of the city.”

Luke smirked. “Yeah, man, I get that. Fordham’s got more of a campus feel, but it’s still New York. You can’t really escape the city.”

Luke had always been the athletic type, one of the best players on their high school soccer team. Nick remembered him constantly balancing practice with classes, but now it was paying off. “Still playing, right? Full-ride?”

Luke grinned. “Yeah, midfielder. They’re working me hard, but it’s worth it. Plus, I get to stay in the city. How many people can say they’re living here without paying a dime for college?”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “And all you have to do is run around a field for a few hours?”

Luke chuckled. “Something like that. Except they’ve got me practicing six days a week. But hey, it’s better than student loans, right?”

Nick sipped his drink, letting the conversation hang in the air for a moment. He wasn’t particularly athletic himself, but he could see why Luke was thriving here. Soccer had always been Luke’s thing, and now it was paying his way through one of the most expensive cities in the country.

“Speaking of student loans,” Luke continued, leaning in a bit. “You living on ramen and hoping for a miracle too?”

Nick smirked, glancing down at the condensation on his glass. “Something like that. I’ve got a dorm, but the food situation’s rough. Corner store ramen’s becoming a staple.”

“Ah, the student diet,” Luke said, grinning. “You gotta find your spots. There’s this pizza place near campus that’ll do slices for like two bucks. If you’re smart, you can make that stretch.”

Nick laughed, a rare, easy sound. “Yeah, I’ll have to check it out.”

For a moment, the conversation flowed like it always had, easy and laid-back. They joked about their different schedules—Luke’s packed with soccer practices and games, Nick’s still wide open as classes hadn’t started yet. It was normal. Comfortable. The kind of conversation Nick had hoped for when he came to New York.

“I gotta say,” Luke continued, leaning back in his seat, “I didn’t think you’d end up here. Thought you’d stick closer to home or something. NYU’s a big jump.”

“Yeah, well,” Nick said, “the scholarship helped. Figured it was worth a shot.”

“No regrets?”

Nick hesitated, swirling his drink. “It’s... different, you know? I’m still figuring it out.”

Luke nodded, giving him a knowing look. “Yeah, I get that. You’ll settle in.”

Then the conversation shifted, and Luke took another sip of his beer. “So what’s this thing with your mom? She really wants you to check on someone?”

Nick sighed inwardly. He had hoped to keep things light, but there it was—back to the favor his mom had asked of him. “Yeah,” Nick said, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. “She’s been on my case about it. Something about his mom being worried, I guess.”

Luke’s expression shifted, the easygoing grin fading into something more serious. “Man, that’s wild. You said Riel Montague, right?”

Nick nodded, already regretting bringing it up. But Luke wasn’t done. He leaned in, lowering his voice as if they were sharing some secret.

“Look, I know we didn’t hang out with the same crowd in high school, but that kid was... different. Quiet, sure, but there was always something else going on. People talked.”

“Talked about what?” Nick asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Luke shrugged, swirling his beer before taking another sip. “Weird shit. His family, mostly. His mom, Maria—fucking crazy. People always said she was into some creepy religious shit, real intense. I dunno. People said their whole family was fucked up.”

Nick frowned. “Fucked up how?”

“Like, ultra-religious,” Luke said, his voice dropping lower. “There were rumors, man. People in town said she kept him on a short leash. They were never out like normal people, always kept to themselves. And when he started coming out as gay... well, shit hit the fan. Heard she went nuts. People said she didn’t take it well, not at all.”

Nick didn’t say anything, letting Luke’s words settle. He hadn’t thought about Riel’s family in years, but it made sense now. The way his mom had pushed him to check on Riel, like there was something more going on, something unsaid. The cryptic remarks from the old woman near the brownstone, too—they all added up to something that didn’t sit right.

Luke watched him for a moment, then leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “Man, I get it. You’re trying to do the right thing, but don’t get too wrapped up in that shit.”

Nick shrugged, staying noncommittal, but Luke wasn’t done. His grin turned sharper, more knowing, and he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping as the casual, laid-back vibe started to shift into something edgier.

“You know,” he started, “there’s easier ways to handle stress here in the city. If you’re looking to blow off some steam...”

Nick raised an eyebrow, waiting for whatever Luke was about to say next. He’d heard this tone before, usually when Luke was about to suggest something reckless.

Luke grinned, leaning in a little closer across the booth. “There’s this spot near Union Square. Real discreet. The kind of place where, for the right price, you can get a girl to handle whatever you need.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, unsure whether Luke was serious or just screwing around. “Like what? Handjobs behind a curtain?”

Luke chuckled, but there was something about his smirk that made Nick think he wasn’t joking. “More than just a handjob. You name it, they’ve got it. Blowjobs, the whole works. And no one gives a shit about IDs or who you are. Just pay up, zip up, and you’re good to go.”

Nick leaned back in his seat, trying to act like he wasn’t fazed by it. But the way Luke said it—so casual, so matter-of-fact—made Nick uneasy. “You’ve been there?” he asked, trying to sound neutral.

Luke shrugged, taking a long sip of his beer. “Once or twice. It’s not like it’s the sleaziest place in the world. Just a hole-in-the-wall where people handle business. If you know where to look, you can get anything in this city.”

Nick shook his head, half-laughing, half-disbelieving. “And that’s how you’ve been spending your time?”

“Not all of it,” Luke said, smirking. “But you’re in New York now. You gotta explore. You don’t want to get stuck in that ramen-dorm cycle forever. There’s a whole world out there that’s not tied to class schedules and deadlines. It’s about getting what you want.”

Nick didn’t respond, unsure if Luke was serious or just trying to push his buttons. Luke had always been the more reckless one, the guy who did whatever he wanted without caring about the consequences. But now, there was something else in his tone, something darker.

“Hell,” Luke continued, leaning back with a grin that was almost too relaxed. “If you’re already stuck checking on Riel, you might as well get something out of it, right? Kid’s fucked-up, right? Quiet, keeps to himself? I bet you could pimp him out. Put a little cash in your pocket, maybe take him to one of those places. Get some girls to handle him.”

Nick froze, his grip tightening around his glass. “What the fuck, Luke?” he said, his voice low, but there was an edge to it.

Luke laughed, completely unfazed. “Come on, I’m kidding. But think about it. Kid’s probably a mess. You could make him feel like a god and walk away with a little extra cash in your pocket. It’s not like he’s doing anything better, right?”

Nick stared at him, the casual cruelty of the suggestion twisting something inside him. “Jesus, Luke.”

Luke’s grin faded a little, but he shrugged, brushing off Nick’s reaction. “Look, I’m just saying, man. You’re doing the guy a favor either way, right? Might as well get paid for your time.”

Nick looked away, trying to let the comment slide, but it was hard to ignore how far Luke had taken the conversation. It wasn’t just the idea of pimping out Riel—it was the way Luke said it, like it wasn’t that big of a deal. Just a business transaction, something casual, with no thought to the consequences.

“You’ve changed,” Nick muttered, swirling his drink, trying to shake off the disgust crawling up his spine.

Luke smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Welcome to New York, man. This city changes everyone.”

For a moment, the noise of the bar swallowed up the silence between them, the low hum of voices and clinking glasses filling the air. Nick tried to focus on anything other than the conversation, but Luke’s words stuck with him, like a splinter he couldn’t pull out.

“You gotta loosen up, Nick,” Luke said, breaking the silence. “You can’t just sit around waiting for shit to happen. This city’s got everything if you know how to play it. You just have to stop caring about the rules.”

Nick didn’t respond. He wasn’t like Luke. He wasn’t here to break rules or play games. But the conversation had left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, a reminder that maybe he didn’t know the people around him as well as he thought.