After a few moments, Adrian seemed to get a hold of himself. Callum looked like a wild animal, gnawing on the bars of his cage. Adrian didn’t know what to do, or what was going on, but he knew that something was deeply wrong. He stepped forward, and Callum hastily stepped back, so Adrian took that as a sign to stop that approach. 

“Um.” 

The moment Adrian spoke, a switch clicked in Callum’s eyes. His expression twisted into something guarded and strange, and he fought his body language back into that stiff, pretentious persona Adrian knew so well. “Adrian. I didn’t see you there.” 

There was something about Callum’s voice that made Adrian’s blood run cold. 

Screw it. So what if they weren’t friends, and Adrian had beef with Callum’s father, and Callum’s smell itched at Adrian’s insides until he became nauseous. Something was wrong, and Callum wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. “Yeah, I gathered that. Hey, while we’re on the subject, can you follow my breathing pattern?” Adrian began taking slow, purposeful breaths. 

“I assure you, I do not see the point of—” 

“Callum.” Adrian cut him off, not at all in the mood to deal with his strange Alpha superiority complex. “In for four.” 

Callum blinked, biting down on his bottom lip. Adrian had never seen him bow to anything—he was, after all, the Alpha all Alphas strove to be. But something behind his gaze crumbled a little, and he opened his mouth and breathed in. 

Adrian counted a few breaths, just enough for Callum to reground himself and stop trembling. They leaned against the wall of the club, carefully avoiding each other’s eyes, while the party inside continued. Neither of Callum’s companions went looking for him, which struck Adrian as odd—because the state Callum was in just moments before was precarious at best. 

Once Callum seemed grounded in his body again, Adrian couldn’t fight back the curious urge to get close. “So. Um. Do you want to talk—”

“I’m quite alright.” Callum’s voice was like a knife, cutting off any connection Adrian could have thought they had. 

Adrian clicked his tongue, the annoyance already building in his stomach. The scent of old money and leather shiner assaulted his nose, a steady stream of never-ending bullshit. “Yeah, sure, I believe you.” 

Callum huffed. “It would be better if you did.” 

“Well. Too bad for you.” Adrian looked over at Callum, fire igniting behind his glare. “I know we’re not exactly close, but anyone with eyes could see that you were not fine.” 

Callum turned away, his hand balling into a fist. “... no one was supposed to see me.” 

Adrian paused, the way Callum’s voice weakened catching his attention. Maybe the other man wasn’t quite as grounded as Adrian thought. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m not trying to judge you. I was just worried something happened.” 

Callum shrugged, still leaning against the wall. He turned his attention down to his fingers, which he laced together tightly in front of him. “Nothing happened.” 

Anger flared in Adrian’s nostrils again. “Would you stop—”

“I’m telling the truth.” Callum insisted. He let out a heavy breath and knocked his head back against the hard wooden walls of the club. “Nothing happened, it was just—loud.” 

Adrian paused. “Loud?” 

Callum nodded, his eyes squeezed shut. “And—and bright.” His voice was thin, like he needed water. 

“Okay…” Adrian pressed gently, willing Callum to continue. 

“And that’s it.” 

“That’s it?” Adrian scoffed. “You looked like someone you knew had just gotten into a horrible accident and you needed to run to their aid.” 

Callum’s face twisted into a grimace. “Well, what do you want me to say? This is why I don’t go to clubs!” He flung his hands into the air, glaring down at the ground like it had personally offended him. “And it smelled. So awful! Didn’t that bother you?” He suddenly snapped his attention to Adrian, and Adrian was caught off guard by the deep blue of his eyes. 

Adrian blinked. “Well, yeah. It was a little annoying, I guess, but…” Sure, it bothered Adrian. It was a little distracting, even, and he wanted the fresh air. But where Adrian had stepped outside and bathed in it for a moment, Callum had burst through like he was already drowning. 

“A little annoying!” Callum repeated, like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “How can you people find this fun? It’s smelly and dark and loud, and every surface is sticky, and you’re packed so close together you’ve got your hands on strangers and strangers have their hands on you and—” Callum stopped suddenly, and his ears turned a little pink. 

Adrian was struck by it. He’d never seen Callum blush. 

“I, um…” Callum pulled inwards again, like he was suddenly shy. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked down, unable to meet Adrian’s eyes. 

“You… got overstimulated…” Adrian realized out loud. 

Callum frowned again, huffing. “You don’t need to slap some fancy word on it.” 

“Do you… Feel like that often?” Adrian raised an eyebrow. He’d never gotten close enough to Callum to know, but suddenly the tense, awkward way Callum navigated the world started to fall into place. 

Callum sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “It’s not a big deal. I handle it.” 

“Do you?” Adrian let out a soft chuckle. “Is that handling it?” 

Callum squared his shoulders and lifted his nose into the air. “I was doing just fine until—” He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t think anyone was out here.” 

Adrian didn’t know what to say to that. He remembered with a jolt how Callum had tried to build his walls back up the moment he realized Adrian was there; how quickly he pulled on that persona. Maybe Beck and Courtney hadn’t come looking because they didn’t realize they had to. 

Because Callum had held together his perfect image until the moment he thought he was alone. 

“Well,” Adrian began softly, “I was out here.” 

Callum shifted on his feet and looked down, his expression twisting into discomfort. “I apologize for that unsightly display. It won’t happen again.” His speech fell back into its usual pattern, and Adrian's heart twisted. 

“You don’t have to apologize. There’s nothing wrong with getting overstimulated.”

“I don’t know why you keep referring to it as that.”

“Because that’s what it is.” Adrian didn’t know why he sounded so confident about that. He wasn’t a professional. “Or… that’s what it seems like.” He leaned against the wall again, his arms crossed over his chest. “When I was in high school, I volunteered to help neurodivergent kids in after-school programs. Can’t help noticing the same pattern.” 

Callum scoffed. “That’s not what is happening.” He insisted. 

Adrian shrugged. “Alright, if you say so.” 

Callum’s eyes flickered to Adrian, and then back out into the dark alleyway. The only light was what flooded in from the main street, so it was dark in a comforting way. The music from the club pulsed and bumped through the door, but it was so muted it barely reached them. 

“My father…” Callum began, unprompted, after a few seconds of silence ticked between them. “He would never entertain the idea when I was younger. I remember them fighting about it. My parents, that is.” His voice was soft, and Adrian had to strain to hear it. 

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Just because your dad doesn’t want to admit it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” 

Callum scoffed, like Adrian had just told a very funny joke. “You don’t know how right you are.” 

Another silence fell between them, but neither of them moved to leave. The door to the club was firmly closed, so neither of them could get back in that way even if they wanted to. And Callum seemed to be begging for an excuse not to go back in. So, Adrian decided to keep talking. “I never met your mom.”

Callum shook his head. “You wouldn’t have. She had left by the time you transferred into our schools.” 

“Oh.” Adrian blinked, his eyes widening. He knew that Callum’s parents had divorced, but he’d never heard the story—or realized how young Callum had been when it happened. “But you stayed with your dad?” 

Callum sighed, like he was annoyed by the conversation—but he didn’t move. It would have been easy for him to dismiss himself, but he didn’t. He just… answered Adrian’s questions. Maybe he wasn’t as annoyed by Adrian’s presence as he seemed? “My father won full custody, and my mother moved back home to be with her family. It’s quite far, so I’m afraid I don’t have much contact with her.” 

“Oh.” 

“You don’t need to sound so sad. It’s not your family.” 

“I know, but… You seem sad.” 

Callum blinked, then snapped his head to Adrian in surprise. His brows furrowed, like he was working through some complex problem. “It’s—it’s simply my situation. I can’t change it.” 

“But you can be sad about it. That’s allowed.” Adrian tilted his head to the side. “I get the feeling you don’t talk about it much.” 

Callum shook his head. “It’s not relevant to my daily life.” 

“Helps to talk about it, though. Doesn’t it?” 

Callm hummed, turning his attention to the wall of the building across from him. “I suppose… there’s no harm.” 

That warm feeling started to tickle Adrian’s insides. Something was different this time. He could sense the person Callum really was—the person no one really got to see. It almost felt like they could be kids again, laughing on the playground after Adrian fell and busted his knee. Back before they realized their statuses kept them divided in a society that valued money over relationships. 

Callum cleared his throat and straightened. “Well, um, thank you. I do believe Beck and Courtney will soon begin to wonder where I am, so…” 

Adrian frowned. “You’re going to go back in there?” 

“I promised them I would,” Callum said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I do not wish to disappoint them.” 

Adrian hummed. There he was, basically running from his friends because the conversation had gotten too real. But Callum was willing to face discomfort for his friends, even though it couldn’t have been pleasant. Maybe there was more to the Bruin heir than Adrian had given him credit for. 

“I was just heading out, anyway.” Adrian stretched his arms over his head. “My party has gone to bed for the night,” he joked. 

A silky bubble of a sound escaped Callum’s mouth before he smothered it behind his hand. He turned, making his way back to the entrance before throwing a smile over his shoulder. “Tell your “party” to sleep tight.” 

He rounded the corner, and then he was gone. 

And Adrian was left standing there, tied into tight knots.