Matthew stared at the flickering neon sign across the street, its harsh glow reflecting off the damp pavement. He hated this part of the city—the part that smelled like desperation and cheap whiskey, the part where people didn't bother looking up unless they had something to sell or a secret to hide. He was familiar with both.
But tonight was different.
He didn't come to this grim part of town for business or pleasure. He came because Vinny was here. And he always came when Vinny was involved.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Matthew's lips. The same smirk he'd been perfecting since high school. The smirk that told everyone he was in control, even when everything around him was falling apart.
He stepped into the alley, the cold air biting at his skin. His footsteps were deliberate, calculated. He'd gotten used to this—walking into dangerous situations like they were nothing more than a game. And this? This was a game. One he didn't plan to lose.
Vinny had always been a wildcard. Unpredictable. Wildly charismatic, but with a darkness that had drawn Matthew in from the start. They hadn't spoken in years, not since that fateful day in high school when Vinny had destroyed the fragile bond they'd once shared. Since then, they had been nothing but enemies—rivals, distant shadows lurking in each other's lives.
But that didn't stop the pull.
Vinny's voice cut through the silence, low and teasing, the same as it had always been. "Well, well, if it isn't Matthew. Haven't seen you in a while. Or maybe I just didn't care to."
Matthew's heart gave an involuntary lurch. That voice—it had always affected him in a way he couldn't quite explain. It was calm, collected, but with an edge that could shatter anyone foolish enough to believe it was all a game.
He turned to face him. Vinny stood in the shadow of a crumbling brick wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking every bit as untouchable as he had in high school. His dark hair fell messily around his face, his eyes gleaming with that same playful, dangerous glint. He looked like trouble wrapped in a designer jacket.
"I didn't think you'd come," Vinny continued, his lips curling into a half-smile. "But then again, you've always had a soft spot for misery, haven't you?"
Matthew didn't answer immediately. Instead, he let his gaze travel over Vinny, taking in the way he leaned casually against the wall, like he owned the entire alley. It was infuriating how effortlessly cool Vinny always looked. How effortlessly he seemed to have everything under control.
"Not here to make small talk, Vinny," Matthew said, his voice low and deliberate. "You wanted to see me. So, let's get to it."
Vinny raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Impatient. You're still the same, I see." He pushed off the wall and stepped closer, closing the distance between them. The scent of his cologne—something expensive, something that made Matthew's head spin—mixed with the musty scent of the alley.
"You know," Vinny continued, his voice dropping an octave, "I could never figure you out. All these years, and I still don't get you. Why are you here? Why are you still playing my game?"
Matthew's pulse quickened, but he didn't let it show. "You don't need to understand me," he replied. "I'm here because you're messing with things you shouldn't be."
Vinny's smile faltered, just for a split second, but it was enough for Matthew to notice. His instinct was always sharp—he had to be. He'd learned to read people quickly. And the fact that Vinny was showing even a fraction of vulnerability meant something was wrong.
"You think you know everything, don't you?" Vinny's voice was tight now, almost dangerous. He took a step back, his eyes flicking over Matthew like he was sizing him up, like he was trying to decide if Matthew was a threat or an opportunity. "But you're wrong, Matthew. This isn't a game. This is real."
Matthew tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Real?" he asked, barely a whisper. "You've been playing games with me since we were kids. So don't tell me this is suddenly something else."
Vinny's gaze darkened, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something raw beneath his usual mask. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same icy indifference.
"Maybe I'm done playing games with you," Vinny said quietly, his tone shifting. "Maybe I just want to see how far you'll go to prove me wrong."
Matthew could feel the tension building between them, thick and suffocating. He wanted to respond, to throw something back at Vinny—some biting remark, something that would show him he wasn't scared. But for the first time, he didn't know what to say.
Instead, he stepped forward, his heart hammering in his chest. "I'm not here to play your games, Vinny. I'm here because you're crossing lines. Lines that shouldn't be crossed."
Vinny's eyes flicked over his face, a strange glimmer of amusement flashing in his eyes. "You think you can control this? You think you can control me?"
Matthew's throat went dry. He didn't know what came over him, but before he could stop himself, he reached out and grabbed Vinny by the collar, yanking him forward. Their faces were inches apart, the heat of their bodies mingling in the cold night air.
"I don't want to control you," Matthew growled, his voice rough. "I just want you to stop making things worse. For once, just stop. This—this game, this twisted obsession you have—it's not just tearing me apart. It's tearing us both apart."
For a moment, there was silence. The only sound was the heavy beat of their hearts in the still night air.
And then Vinny did something that threw Matthew completely off balance. He smiled. A slow, dangerous smile that sent a chill down Matthew's spine.
"You're right," Vinny murmured, his voice soft and almost teasing. "It's tearing us apart. But the thing is, Matthew… I'm not sure I want it to stop."