Excitement and nerves battled within me as Kat and I entered the pulsing nightclub. My sister looked stunning, as always—her effortless beauty shining through, with silky brown hair that cascaded perfectly around her shoulders, eyes full of mischief, and a smile that could light up the darkest room. Her emerald green dress hugged her curves in all the right places.

I glanced down, smoothing my own dress. It was the only one I owned, dragged out of the closet after what felt like ages. Though black, it felt frilly and unnecessary, a false illusion. I was uncomfortable, already vowing never to wear a dress again.

"I still can't believe you wanted to go clubbing," Kat shouted over the music, giving me a curious look.

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I'm single now. Time to enjoy life, right?"

Kat's eyebrows shot up. "Since when do you enjoy life by going clubbing?"

"Since now," I replied, avoiding her gaze.

The truth was, I was here for one reason: Suzette, the young barista with the flickering green aura. I’d overheard her mentioning this club at the coffee shop earlier. My obsession with her fate was growing stronger every day, and I still hadn’t decided if I was going to try to save her or take her soul like the others. The craving was getting harder to ignore, the pull toward her almost unbearable.

The place was packed, bodies moving in sync to the beat, the air thick with the smell of sweat and alcohol. As we weaved our way to the bar, I turned to Kat. "Hey, weird question. If you knew someone was going to die, would you try to stop it?"

She pulled back, her brown eyes searching mine for a hint of what was really going on. I almost told her. Almost confessed the torment I was in over Suzette, the young barista whose fate I knew with certainty. But instead, I just smiled.

"It’s not even a real question, Kal," Kat laughed, the sound barely audible over the thumping bass. "Of course, I’d intervene."

Just like Carter had said over a week ago. Why did I want to hear a different answer? I nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt. If only she knew the weight of that decision.

“I got it,” Kat said, laying down a twenty at the bar. “But if you feel good enough to go clubbing, maybe it’s time for a job.”

I just laughed, waving a dismissive hand at her. I had other problems to deal with at the moment.

"Oh, by the way," Kat said as we ordered our drinks, "Mom and Dad called again. They're worried about you."

I felt a familiar flare of anger. "Then they should call me directly."

Kat sighed. "They gave up. You never answer. Maybe they're just as stubborn as you are. You can't be mad at them forever for leaving. They have their own life to live. You should call them."

“And tell them I totaled their minivan?” I took a long sip of my drink, avoiding her gaze. "Maybe," I muttered. In reality, I didn’t know how to face them. Not after everything that had happened between us. Not after they left. Not after how much time has passed.

"So," Kat said, changing the subject, "how's Carter? You two seemed pretty cozy at the gym. And you’ve been spending time with him almost every day for weeks now."

"He's away on business," I replied. "Some ‘little’ travel assignment in boring Paris.” I playfully rolled my eyes. “And he's... becoming a good friend."

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Kat winced at the word 'friend'. "Just a friend? Are you sure?" She always had a way of reading more into things than I did. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Carter. He was… like a breath of fresh air. But so not someone I ever pictured myself with. He was too…nice? Too good. Too carefree. Didn’t all girls like the bad boy? I laughed at myself. I had the bad boy. Thank God he’s dead now. Again, my thoughts turned too dark. Too grim.

My eyes caught sight of who I was looking for across the dance floor. There she was—Suzette. Her green light was like a beacon in the sea of golden auras, flashing lights, and moving bodies. But it wasn't only her green aura that held my attention. Next to her was a man whose soul was flashing even faster, almost in sync with the strobe lights. My breath caught in my throat. He was going to die tonight.

My hands began to shake, the withdrawal symptoms intensifying, making my head spin. The hunger for his soul, for that rush, was almost overwhelming. I had a choice to make: try to save him and suffer through this misery, or take his soul and find relief.

"I'm going to dance," I told Kat abruptly, moving toward the man before she could respond.

Kat grabbed my arm. "What are you doing?"

I forced a smile. "It's time I move on, right? Come on, let’s have some fun.”

“I’ll bring the drinks. Meet you there.”

As I approached the man, I could see he was already drunk, his movements uncoordinated. "Hey," I shouted over the music, "want to dance?"

He grinned, his eyes unfocused. "Sure thing, beautiful. Fair warning, though – I'm on ‘shrooms and everything's pretty wild right now."

We started dancing, Kat joining us with a group of strangers. Despite the fun atmosphere, I couldn't take my eyes off the man's rapidly flashing aura. My mouth watered at the thought of reaping his soul, but I forced the craving down. Both Kat and Carter said that if given a choice, you always try to save someone.

As we danced, his aura’s flashing grew more intense. I could almost taste it, the high from taking his soul, but I had to stop myself. I needed to intervene, not let him die.

After a while, the man stumbled over his own two feet. "I think I'm gonna head home," he slurred, his eyes glazed over as he turned to leave.

"I’ll come with you," I said quickly, grabbing his arm. Then I cracked the most flirtatious smile.

“Alright,” he said. “But fair warning, I’m not sure how I’ll perform. You know, ‘shrooms.”

“Yeah, you already mentioned them,” I said, holding him upright.

Kat appeared at my side, concern etched on her face. "Kal, what are you doing?"

"Just looking for some fun.” I winked at her. “Don’t wait up."

She hesitated, then smiled and let me go. If only she knew the truth.

Outside, he staggered toward his car, fumbling with his keys. Was this how he was going to die? Impaired driving?

"You’re drunk," I said, pulling the keys out of his hand. "I’ll drive."

He didn’t argue, too out of it to care. But as I turned to unlock the car, he suddenly wandered across the road, right into the path of an oncoming car. I lunged for him, yanking him back in time to save him as the car sped by, horn blaring.

My heart pounded. I had clearly just saved his life, but why was his aura still flashing?

"Hey," he said suddenly, looking up at the night sky with wide, dilated eyes. "What do you think it'd be like to fly?"

He began walking away from me.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Just cooling off. Feeling the breeze in my hair. Pretending to be a bird.”

I hurried to keep up as he headed down the sidewalk. At least he was out of the road.

“Come on,” I protested. “Let’s get you home.” Safe. Away from traffic.

“I live this way,” he said, holding out his arms and flapping them like a bird as we ran down the street and up a bridge that crossed the river.

What the fuck was I doing? If it was this idiot’s time, why was I trying to get in the way?

Before I could react, he darted up on the edge of the bridge, his arms still flapping, and suddenly, I could see his demise.

"No!" I screamed, chasing after him. But I was too late. With a whoop of joy, he leapt over the railing and plummeted toward the river below.

I ran down to the shore, my heart pounding. His body floated face-down in the water, the green orb of his soul hovering above it. Tears stung my eyes as I kicked off my shoes and waded in, dragging him to shore. I had failed. I hadn't tried hard enough. But there was a part of me that knew I had waited for this to happen. Hoped it would happen.

With shaking hands, I reached into the heavy fabric between worlds and grasped my scythe. The weight of it felt both familiar and terrible.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, swinging the scythe through the glowing orb.

The rush hit me immediately, a wave of euphoria washing away my guilt and pain. As the man's soul flowed into the scythe, I saw flashes of his life—childhood laughter, teenage love.

As I passed his soul to the silent gatekeeper, I trudged up the steps to the coffee shop, ready to demand some answers.