"To the premiere, brother," Luca shouted over the music. "You’re at the top."
The neon lights of the "Crystal Lounge" blurred against the rain-slicked streets of Bucharest. Inside, sat in the VIP booth, the heavy bass of his own track vibrating through the velvet seats. To the crowd, he was "NarcisDegeaba"—the man who had everything. To himself, he was just a guy trying to stay "fine" in a city that felt like a masquerade ball. "To the premiere, brother," Luca shouted over the music
Narcis leaned in close to Luca’s ear. "You know the best thing about being 'fine'?" he whispered. Luca blinked, his smile faltering. "What’s that?" To the crowd, he was "NarcisDegeaba"—the man who
"I can afford to see through the masks before they even come off," Narcis said, his voice like ice. He stood up, adjusted his jacket, and walked toward the stage without looking back. "You know the best thing about being 'fine'