They had already sung "Happy Birthday" in the parking lot behind the BlackOps Bowling Alley, a dimly lit space where the rough, cracked concrete floor seemed to reflect the grimy surroundings. The neon lights from the bowling alley flickered in the distance, casting flashes of purple and blue that colored the environment, while a chilly breeze rustled the empty soda cans and scattered pieces of cake on the ground. The sickly sweet smell of sugar mixed with the heavy air gave the place a feeling of a party that's already ended, an unspoken weight that no one could quite explain.

Tyler was lying on his back on one of the wooden picnic tables. He wore a simple white t-shirt and faded jeans, his messy hair shining under the light of the lone nearby streetlamp. His usually intimidating eyes reflected the same irritation as always, even though he said nothing. Jake, in his oversized gray hoodie and worn-out jeans, was sitting on the sidewalk, looking lost in thought, his green eyes staring at some undefined point on the horizon. Hyan noticed that Jake always carried that aura of someone living in another world, never fully present, and despite his friends being around, there was something lonely about him.

Amelia, on the other hand, still radiated a vibrant energy that contrasted with the tiredness of the rest of the group. She was sitting on Hyan's shoulders, her boots caked in dirt, swinging slightly as she fiddled with the loose strands of her hair, which fell in untamable curls. Hyan, wearing a black jacket that he thought made him look more serious, remained tense, a strange unease growing inside him. He could feel the weight of Amelia on his shoulders, but not the discomfort that should've come with it. His phone vibrated in his pocket from time to time, but he avoided looking at it, unsure why.

The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the occasional sound of cars passing far off on the road. The sky was clear, but distant, as if uninterested in watching what was happening down below.

"So, what's the deal, bro?" Amelia broke the silence, poking Tyler's leg with her foot, her heavy boot brushing lightly against his worn jeans. "It's our last year in school... What are you gonna do after? No college, right?"

Tyler rolled his eyes, lazily shifting on the table. Hyan noticed how his brother always seemed ready for a fight, even when he was just lying there, quiet.

"No way..." Tyler grumbled, turning onto his side with a sharp motion, as if the subject was already dead.

Hyan, still holding Amelia with one arm and adjusting his glasses with the other, watched the scene. He doubted Tyler could handle another year of school, let alone think about the future. With a raised eyebrow and a light sigh, he replied:

"That guy? No way."

Tyler, still sprawled on the table, flashed a crooked smile, loaded with irony.

"Our dad left a huge inheritance for us." He'd been repeating that story since childhood, and Hyan was almost sure it was just another one of his brother’s lies to make himself sound important. "In fact, now that I'm sixteen, I'm old enough to spend!"

"You know it's fifty-fifty, idiot!" Hyan shot back, trying to keep the tone light, but there was something there, a small spark of irritation he couldn’t hide. Teasing Tyler was one of the few ways to distract himself from his own thoughts.

Tyler flipped him off, a gesture that was supposed to be a joke but always came with a hint of truth.

"By the time you're old enough, I'll have spent it all, bighead!"

Hyan smirked, adjusting his posture and trying not to let the tension rise.

"Not a chance..."

"And you, Jake?" Tyler suddenly turned, focusing on the friend who was still sitting on the sidewalk, nearly motionless, as if waiting for the night to end.

Jake blinked, slowly coming back to the present, like he was waking up from a dream.

"Huh...?"

"What are you gonna do after school...?" Tyler pressed, his voice carrying a teasing, almost friendly tone, but still with that rude edge he always had.

Jake shrugged, his face slightly flushed from the night’s cold.

"Ah... still a year left... and now my dad's living in Canada... haven’t really thought much about it..."

Tyler raised an eyebrow.

"And what are you thinking about...?"

"Or who?" Amelia, always ready to stir the pot, shot a mischievous glance at Hyan, who shifted uncomfortably beneath her, as if that small gesture could divert the teasing.

Jake had always been quiet. He never spoke much about himself, but Hyan thought he was kind. He was the first friend Hyan made when they moved to the city. In the past few months, Amelia had told him something about Jake, feelings he had for his brother, and once again, Hyan didn’t know what to think about it.

He sighed, wishing the focus of the conversation would change. As if answering his silent wish, his phone vibrated again in his pocket, and he pulled it out, feeling a brief sense of relief. When he saw his mom's name flashing on the screen, a small knot of anxiety formed in his stomach.

"Hey, Mom... you okay?" Hyan asked, his voice more serious than he intended.

"What’s up...?" Tyler shot him an irritated look.

The answer came cold and direct.

"Come home. Now." Cassandra’s voice was tense, which only made Hyan’s discomfort grow. "And bring your brother."

"Okay..." Hyan stood up suddenly, gently moving Amelia off his shoulders. "We’re on our way..." He hung up the phone, feeling the tension fill the night air. "Mom wants us to go home."

Tyler grumbled, pulling his red jacket off the table.

"What? Why? It's not even midnight yet!"

Hyan grabbed Tyler’s arm, pulling him harder than he intended, his nerves on edge.

"She's freaked out, idiot!" The outburst of anger was quick, and he knew instantly that he’d embarrassed their friends.

Amelia tried to break the heavy mood.

"Go on, mama’s boys..." She grabbed Jake by the arm, smiling. "I’ll make sure Jake gets home safe..."

Jake tried to smile back, still visibly flushed and uncomfortable.

"The only thing that could put me in danger is you..."

Hyan and Tyler hopped on their bikes, pedaling quickly. Tyler kept grumbling and cursing under his breath, while Hyan felt a growing weight of worry in his chest.

Tyler slammed his bike onto the sidewalk with a crash, stomping into the house with heavy steps. The stress of the day seemed to pulse in his veins, and Hyan followed him, feeling a shiver down his spine as the door slammed shut behind them. Something was wrong. The silence inside the house was strange, almost suffocating, as if the air had become denser, colder.

"So, Mom...? What the hell is this? It was my birthday hangout!"

The house was eerily silent. Hyan felt a chill run down his spine. Something was definitely wrong.

"Dude...!" Hyan tried to warn his brother, but Tyler was already storming through the living room like a hurricane.

"I’m serious!" Tyler shouted, his voice echoing off the empty walls. "I'm legal now!"

"Good to know, Tyler." A cold voice cut through the air.

They both froze instantly. In the center of the room, sitting in the dark leather armchair, was a tall, slender woman. Michelle. Her short white hair shone under the dim light of the lamp, and her ruby red eyes—cold as ice—watched them with a calculated neutrality. She was perfectly composed, as if her presence there was the most natural thing in the world.

"Time to take on some responsibilities, don’t you think?"

Tyler saw his anger dissolve into a confused bewilderment.

"Aunt Michelle...?" he murmured, surprised.

Hyan's heart hammered in his chest. He barely had time to process the shock of his aunt's presence before noticing another figure, lounging on the sofa beside her. The cousin they rarely saw, lying back with a mischievous grin on her face. The same red eyes gleamed with barely concealed amusement, as if she were waiting for their reaction.

"What's up, rat brothers?" she said.

Hyan barely managed to hide the discomfort growing inside him. Everything about that moment felt out of place. Now he understood why his mom had sounded so urgent on the phone. What had started as an ordinary night was now on the verge of turning into something much darker.

"Cousin Monica...?"