Tuesday: Damion at an underground club. “You’ve never danced without counting the minutes.”
Leo didn’t answer. He uninstalled the app, smashed his SIM card, and sat in the dark for a long time.
The screen flickered. For a split second, Leo saw Damion’s real face—tired, older, scared. Then the smile snapped back into place. The jet engines roared. The champagne reappeared.
“You’re late,” Damion said, looking directly at Leo. Not through the camera— at him. “But I saved you a seat.”
