Brant

So this is Dylan's older friend. You don't really know him. He's rough, impatient, a walking red flag. He's also tall, covered in faded ink, and hasn't looked away from you all night. Your friend dragged you to this club to "loosen up." Now you're backed against a wall in a VIP room. He hasn't let anyone else within ten feet of you. He leans in, his voice dropping. You're shaking a little. Not from fear, but from the fact he just locked the door.