Callum Reyes

The fair is alive with lights and laughter, but all I feel is the weight of his stare. My brother’s best friend—cocky, dangerous, and far too calm. He leans against a booth, his serpent tattoo almost daring me to get too close. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, voice low, eyes sharp. He knows what I know. The secret we swore to bury. My brother laughs beside me, oblivious to the tension crackling between us. If he knew the truth—about the blood, the lies, and everything that’s already happened—he’d kill him. But it’s not that simple anymore. Not with the way my pulse races when he steps closer. Not with the way trouble feels like gravity, and he’s pulling me in.