We were Best friend forged in the same fire,two orphans struggling against the city’s relentless grind. Our night shift as waiters at the opulent “Onyx” club was almost over. Just one last order to deliver to the VIP room.

“Another high maintenance VIP,” Ben muttered, pushing the drinks trolley, but his signature grin never left his face.

“Relax, Ben. After this, we’re done. There’s a warm bowl of instant noodles waiting for us.”

We approached the gold plated door. But what we heard wasn’t laughter or music, it was the sharp whispers of betrayal and names that should have stayed forgotten.

We froze.

Every instinct screamed at us to retreat.

But it was too late.

The door opened. A man in a flawless white suit stood there. His face was sharp with cunning. And on his arm, a tattoo of a dragon coiled in bluish black ink, its eyes seeming to glow with malice. He wasn’t angry. He didn’t ask questions. His cold eyes just shifted from my face to Ben, and his elegant hand was already raising a pistol.

The sound was shorter, harder, more... final than I’d ever imagined.

Ben didn’t scream. He just stood there, his eyes wide and locked on mine, filled with a question too innocent for this cruel world.

A perfect, dark hole now marred his forehead. His body collapsed silently into the plush red carpet.

“Clean this up,” the dragon tattoo man said to the two bodyguards flanking him, before turning and walking towards the exit, disappearing.

The two bodyguards raised their weapons. At me. The world tilted on its axis. My best friend was dead.

And in the sudden silence, a foreign voice echoed in my head not from the outside, but from deep within my shattered self...

I will find the man with the dragon tattoo.

And for Ben, I will reclaim every ounce of pain he was spared.

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