While every member of the Nguyen family adhered to materialism, there was only one exception who followed idealism. That should have been completely unacceptable, but due to her esteemed position in the family, no one dared to speak a word.

Mrs. Nguyen anxiously scratched at her wedding ring—a habit she had whenever she sensed a forthcoming "bad omen"—and cast a worried glance at her one and only son sitting across the dining table. Nguyen Huynh Son began his day like any other: neatly dressed in a crisply ironed uniform, taking a sip of coffee, putting down the daily newspaper, and glancing at his wristwatch.

“Son, stay home today, won’t you?” she reached out to hold his hand, gently pleading.

“I have a feeling that today isn’t going to be a good day.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll handle it, Mom. Don’t worry.” Huynh Son smiled at his mother. He was already used to this. Since childhood, his mother had been superstitious—though rarely did it escalate to the level of warnings like today. Most of the time, it was limited to advice about which foot to step out of bed with first, or how to arrange furniture for better feng shui. Almost no one feared her warnings, because nothing ever truly threatened the Nguyen family.

Since he was young, Huynh Son had lived by strict rules, mastering the art of controlling situations and always staying one step ahead—following teachings passed down from his great-grandfather. That was the very reason the family had become as powerful and successful as they were today.

So, like any other day, Huynh Son reassured his mother, picked up his schoolbag, and left the house at the exact same time as always, settling into the back seat of the car heading to school.

The driver started the engine, and the car slowly rolled out of the vast courtyard. In the rearview mirror, the image of a worried mother watching the car fade into the distance reflected back. Huynh Son sighed—his already cautious nature now had to be even more alert, mostly because he didn’t want to add to his mother’s anxiety.

The sleek black car glided through the neighborhood, turned left at a familiar corner onto the main road. It was only then that Huynh Son remembered something important. He leaned forward to get the driver’s attention.

“Could you swing by Thach’s house for me?” he said, glancing toward the line of golden gates peeking out at the end of the street. Normally, he wouldn’t agree to picking up a friend like this, but the fact that they lived close by was the only thing that convinced him.

Who knew what the reason was this time? Nguyen Cao Son Thach was often either too hungover from some wild party to wake up on time and needed a ride, or had burned through all his gas speeding around town the night before. Either way, Huynh Son didn’t really care. If Thach didn’t show up at the gate within five minutes, he’d just leave.

A breath of relief escaped him when he saw Thach leaning against the gate, but his smile vanished the moment he noticed his friend’s condition. Huynh Son always wished he could pretend he didn’t know this sloppy mess of a person, but their so-called unbreakable friendship (emphasis on the Son) weighed too heavily for him to actually walk away.

Son Thach’s face lit up when he saw the familiar car pull up in front of the gate. He eagerly opened the door and hopped in beside Huynh Son, who shot him a judgmental look before turning away. Thach pulled a tie from his pocket, slipped on his crushed-back sneakers, straightened his collar, and instinctively raised a hand to smooth his hair—until he remembered he’d shaved it all off days ago.

Huynh Son also noticed the glaring red color on Thach’s buzzcut—it was hard to miss—but before he could say anything, it was already done.

Then again, if Thach still had a full head of hair, he’d probably waste another thirty minutes of his life styling it, so this was a trade-off.

The smooth ride to school was filled with Thach’s off-key singing and the gentle hum of the engine. The road ahead led straight to the most prestigious international school in the city—a place that gathered the sons and daughters of the rich and powerful. The closer they got, the more refined and dignified the atmosphere became, a stark contrast to the bustling city streets outside. The large school sign shimmered in the blazing sunlight, ostentatious and bold, its finely engraved letters seemingly affirming its own status and class.

Past the towering gates shaded by ancient trees, the campus unfolded like a miniature international university. Classical European-style buildings stood in elegant succession, surrounded by lush green lawns, sports fields, and meticulously trimmed gardens. Students in neat uniforms, of all skin colors and nationalities, moved between the classroom buildings. Their world stood wide open before them, welcoming them—just like every other meticulously programmed, ordinary day.

The car slowly pulled into the parking lot. Huynh Son glanced at the purple Porsche next to them and saw that Le Truong Son had just stepped out. He immediately turned to scold Son Thach.

“You should learn from him. You two party every night, but he’s still more put-together than you.”

Son Thach simply scoffed, tilting his head slightly to spot Truong Son outside before getting out of the car. Truong Son wore his uniform neatly, with a perfectly tied tie and gleaming leather shoes. His upright, composed posture stood in stark contrast to Son Thach’s laid-back, carefree demeanor.

If Son Thach was the rebellious type, then Truong Son was the one who respected the rules—though both of them belonged to the school’s infamous party crowd. Truong Son was more disciplined and rational, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous when it was time to prove himself.

“Right on time, as always, huh?” Truong Son tilted his head as he saw the two friends stepping out of the car. He walked over and gave Son Thach a not-so-friendly look. “Still clinging to him? You’re such a pain.”

“Starting the day already throwing shade?” Son Thach rolled his eyes and reached out to mess up Truong Son’s hair, only to have his hand swiftly batted away by a cat-like swat.

The cat was about to knee the wolf in the stomach, but their attention was quickly stolen by the roar of a motorcycle engine in the distance, shattering the morning calm. Huynh Son sighed, silently thinking: Here comes Thach’s twin from another operating system.

Pham Duy Thuan’s black motorcycle sped along the school driveway and parked in the two-wheeler section. He wore the school uniform but threw a black leather jacket over it, his bleached hair tousled under his helmet—looking every bit like a professional racer. He was the only one in the group who didn’t care for flashy cars, always choosing a motorcycle for the freedom and flexibility it offered.

His edgy appearance immediately softened when his eyes met his three friends. He smoothed back his hair and flashed a grin. Huynh Son could practically hear women fainting in the background—and honestly, some men too.

“Thuan, there’s something on your cheek,” Huynh Son said, pointing at his friend’s face. Duy Thuan raised an eyebrow carved with a slit, blinked those big eyes, and went “ah” before touching the lipstick mark on his cheek.

“The price of a cup of coffee,” he replied casually, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe it away.

Needless to say, he was the group's golden ticket to free food.

Every scheme usually began with Son Thach.

“Thuan, go flash that smile, bring back some drinks for us.”

“What am I, your escort?” Duy Thuan always replied with mock indignation, but everyone knew he secretly loved it. Who doesn’t enjoy being admired for looking good?

The four of them walked into the hallway just before the bell rang. So far, everything was under control. Huynh Son acted nonchalant, but his mother’s warning still lingered in his mind. He picked up the pace a little, walked more carefully, and eventually parted ways with the trio to head into class on his own.

Sitting down at his seat, Huynh Son glanced around. The teacher and his classmates were just arriving—after him. As always.

He quietly exhaled, starting the first lesson of the day in peace. He didn’t forget to think of his mother’s favorite phrase, “knock on wood.”

—

One... Huynh Son slowly counted down to calm himself, tapping his toe against the floor, trying to mask his irritation with a smile.

“Oh? So the president wants to run for re-election this year,” the teacher said in surprise, looking at the raised hand before glancing apologetically at Huynh Son’s frozen arm.

If he were a machine, his neck would have creaked at that moment. He slowly turned his head to look at the person who had just thrown down the gauntlet.

Tang Vu Minh Phuc—the teachers’ darling, second only to Huynh Son. The tension between them had been palpable since the very first day of school. Huynh Son usually dismissed others for not matching his academic performance, except for this one. He had nearly slammed his head against the wall after Minh Phuc beat him by 0.25 points on the final literature exam last year.

Minh Phuc had quickly snagged the position of student council president upon entering the school, becoming Huynh Son’s number one rival ever since. This year, Huynh Son was fully prepared to crush all other candidates—a plan that should’ve been easy—until Minh Phuc raised his hand.

Just like that, the rivalry between Huynh Son and Minh Phuc was taken to a whole new level.

It wasn’t just Huynh Son—Minh Phuc was a thorn in the side of the entire friend group. All because he once snitched on Son Thach and Truong Son for sneaking out by climbing over the school gate. Since then, Son Thach had found his name permanently etched into the teachers’ blacklist, and Truong Son had to become even more cunning with his escape plans. Minh Phuc didn’t get along with Duy Thuan either—thanks to a certain incident that ended with Minh Phuc’s friends tearing each other’s hair out because of Thuan.

So, the moment Minh Phuc and Huynh Son officially registered as candidates, every other contender immediately withdrew. Not because they were cowards, but because they wanted front-row seats to the chaos that was about to unfold between two sworn enemies.

“Well, we meet again, Son,” Minh Phuc said with a fake smile, standing at the podium as he handed over the pen for Son to sign the candidate list. Huynh Son squinted, smiled tightly, and gripped the pen hard enough to almost tear the paper as he signed.

“Such a pleasure,” Huynh Son said—and immediately wanted to bite his own tongue.

“Good luck,” Minh Phuc replied with a tilt of his head, his words as sharp as arrows. “Seems like you’ll need it more than I do.”

Huynh Son smiled back just as brightly.

“Sleep with one eye open tonight. Careful or the ghosts might drag you by the legs,”

Minh Phuc nodded with a gentle smile. The dark clouds lingering above their heads seemed to split in two as he stepped down from the podium.

Huynh Son didn’t usually pick fights, but Minh Phuc was like a magnet that drew out every bit of spite from beneath his polite surface.

He really needed to summon a ghost to drag that guy away.

—

“Me?” Duy Thuan widened his eyes, pointing at himself.

“Yes, you,” Huynh Son replied with a smile.

The whole group exchanged bewildered glances around the dinner table.

After a long school day, the four of them had met up at a pre-booked restaurant for dinner. From the moment Huynh Son walked in, something had felt off. No one, however, had expected him to ask Duy Thuan to flirt with Minh Phuc to distract him from the student council race.

Until now, the worst they had asked Thuan to do was fetch free food and drinks—not seduce someone.

“Out of all the shady stuff we’ve ever done, this might be the most evil,” even Son Thach couldn’t wrap his head around it, giving Huynh Son a wary look.

“Yeah, that guy never even did anything to you. You two have always played fair,” Truong Son chimed in.

“I’m done playing fair. This time, I want a quick and clean win,” Huynh Son sighed, starting to explain his plan to the others.

“Organizing and managing the mixer with the school’s sponsors after the opening ceremony is one of the main responsibilities of the student council president. I’m not afraid of going big, but Phuc is a charmer. He’s got those sponsors wrapped around his finger. If he gets their favor, I’m screwed. I need someone to pull him out of that event—and the only one among us capable of doing that is you, Thuan.”

“So I’m your secret weapon now, huh?” Duy Thuan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, though. That guy doesn’t seem to like me much.”

“Who wouldn’t like you? You’re way smoother than him—trust me.”

“What if he rejects our guy?” Son Thach added dramatically, mock gasping and covering his mouth. “Then our collective reputation will be tarnished, because Pham-freaking-Duy-Thuan will have been turned down for the first time in his life.”

“Hey, that actually hurt,” Duy Thuan grimaced at Son Thach.

“But getting rejected by Minh Phuc would really hurt,” Truong Son smirked, adding fuel to the fire. “That guy’s like humanity’s final wall against Thuan’s charm.”

The more he heard, the more Duy Thuan winced.

Huynh Son quietly watched his three friends bantering, noting how deeply Duy Thuan’s pride had just been wounded. Everything was unfolding exactly as planned.

“What do I get if I actually win him over?” Duy Thuan finally asked after a long pause.

“A hot new girlfriend. Or another name to add to your list of exes if you get bored,” Son Thach and Truong Son replied in unison.

“Or I’ll give you my car,” Huynh Son straightened up, leaning forward on the table. “I know you’re not that into cars, but this one’s the latest model. You could probably trade it in for a couple of badass bikes.”

Duy Thuan raised an eyebrow, clearly considering the offer seriously.

“Alright,” he said at last. “Because I enjoy a good challenge—and the car’s a nice bonus.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Huynh Son gave him the only sincere smile he’d shown all day, placing a hand on Thuan’s shoulder.

Up to this point, Huynh Son’s day had been smooth sailing, and he was increasingly pleased with his ability to manipulate any situation. Nothing in the world could faze him. And he intended to keep it that way for the rest of his life.

—

After dinner, the four of them piled into Huynh Son’s new car and headed to their usual bar—the one where Son Thach paid his monthly “party tax.”

If every universe had its Jackson Wang, the ultimate party king, then in this one, that title belonged to Nguyen Cao Son Thach.

The moment they arrived, bottles of alcohol flooded the table. Son Thach downed a few shots and darted straight into the crowd on the dance floor. Duy Thuan went off to greet acquaintances, while the two Sons stayed back at the table.

At first, the regulars at the bar couldn’t figure out how this odd group had even come to be—one a party animal, one a ladies’ man, one dead serious, and the last one a statistical average of the three.

But the truth wasn’t anything so complicated it required conspiracy theories.

All four families had been close for ages. The two Nguyen households treated each other like blood relatives, and through business connections, they’d become intertwined with the Pham and Le families too.

Since childhood, they had treated Huynh Son’s house as a second home. The four heirs grew up together, went to the same schools from elementary to high school.

Despite their wildly different personalities, they found a kind of harmony—living by the unspoken code: “You die, I die. The power of four is sacred and untouchable.”

Besides, four rich, good-looking guys walking together? The aura was just better that way.

As they grew older, their bond strengthened thanks to the benefits they provided each other. Huynh Son had the authority to cover for the other three at school. Truong Son had an extensive web of social connections. Son Thach ruled over nightlife and entertainment. And Duy Thuan—well, he was hot.

Kidding. If the other three were a machine, then Thuan was the oil that kept it running smoothly.

When Son Thach and Duy Thuan tapped out, Truong Son became the next one dragged onto the dance floor.

Heavy bass thumped through the room, lights flashing relentlessly over the polished glass floor, casting a wild and dazzling atmosphere.

Huynh Son ignored the fun and just sat back, soaking in the music while keeping an eye on the others like a general surveying the battlefield.

Tonight’s theme seemed to be costumes. Girls were decked out in fluffy animal ears and feather-trimmed, daringly cut outfits, while guys joined in with chaotic prints and flashy accessories.

Son Thach clinked glasses with Duy Thuan and stood on the balcony, taking a break to look down on the wild scene below before diving back in.

Beneath them, neon purple light melted across vibrant hair colors.

Son Thach’s eyes landed on the shock of white-dyed hair—Truong Son—who was surrounded by girls.

He smiled, dancing lightly to the beat, bowing slightly as one girl slipped a pair of cat ears on his head.

Son Thach’s eyes widened.

After spending a lifetime beside this guy—surviving the madness of puberty together—this was the first time he had truly looked at one of his best friends.

Truong Son had always been the loudest of the group, aloof and unbothered by anyone, constantly playing the role of the team’s unofficial lawyer, handling every crisis.

Maybe that was just a shell they’d grown too used to.

Seeing him now, genuinely enjoying himself without being defensive or sharp-tongued, made Son Thach feel oddly unfamiliar with the sight.

And to think—they’d always joked about Truong Son being a cat.

Yet this was the first time he’d actually seen the guy wear cat ears.

It felt like he’d just unearthed the fossil of a long-extinct species.

“Am I drunk, or is Son getting more attractive lately?” Son Thach leaned against the balcony, eyes fixed on Truong Son.

“Which Son?” Duy Thuan, half-distracted, snapped to attention with suspicion.

“Which Son what?” Son Thach frowned, confused.

“Nguyen Son or Le Son? The prince or the cat?” Duy Thuan asked more specifically.

“Le Son. The cat,” Son Thach muttered, rubbing his forehead in defeat.

Duy Thuan stared at his friend in horror, tiptoeing to peer into the glass of alcohol in Son Thach’s hand.

“Did someone drug you?”

“Probably,” Son Thach clicked his tongue and turned back to look at Truong Son.

The music slowed down, matching Truong Son’s ability to catch the beat. His shoulders swayed gently with the rhythm, two buttons on his shirt undone, revealing a delicate collarbone. The light slid across his figure from one side to the other. The entire scene was burned into Son Thach’s eyes as if he were hypnotized. He gulped hard.

“Hey.” Duy Thuan placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly, like trying to snap him out of whatever trance he’d fallen into. “Are you being serious right now?”

Son Thach blinked, turning quickly to look at his friend.

“What?”

Duy Thuan frowned, giving him a concerned look. This time he placed both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look straight at him.

“I could flirt with the entire world, but not with you three. Even I get that. So don’t let a little alcohol make you do something we’ll all regret.”

“What do you mean?” Son Thach looked genuinely confused, unable to follow the train of thought.

Duy Thuan sighed, remembering that sometimes this guy needed things spelled out directly.

“Do. Not. Go. After. The. Cat.” He slapped a hand down with each word. “You can want anyone, but don’t screw up our friendship over a moment of impulse. Got it?”

“W-what are you saying?! When did I ever want to go after him?” Son Thach finally understood and quickly shrugged off Duy Thuan’s hands.

“Oh, I don’t know—about a few seconds ago?” Duy Thuan raised an eyebrow. “We were literally born in the same hospital, I know exactly what you're thinking.”

Son Thach pressed his lips together, realizing that his friend was seriously concerned.

“I was just saying nonsense… Me and him? Haha… gross.” He avoided Duy Thuan’s gaze, bringing the glass to his lips for a forced sip.

“I’m serious, alright? You three are the only real friends I have. Don’t throw that away like trash.” Duy Thuan gave him one last warning, then softened his tone, letting out a long sigh as he threw an arm around Son Thach’s shoulder and guided him off the balcony. “It’s nine-thirty, let’s go before Son Nguyen needs his bedtime.”

Son Thach nodded, gripping his glass tightly.

Huynh Son glanced at his wristwatch, satisfied to see that the three friends had stopped partying right on time.

Normally, Son Thach would stay out much later, but tonight seemed to be an exception—whether it was because he was drunk or something else, he was noticeably quieter than usual. Huynh Son didn’t bother to question it. As long as they got home on time like he wanted, that was all that mattered.

And so the day ended in peace. Huynh Son placed a hand over his chest and let out a relieved sigh, thinking to himself that once again, his mother had worried for nothing—or maybe he was just favored by the heavens enough to dodge every bit of bad luck.

That is, until the four of them walked out of the bar and stepped into the parking lot.

—

“Uhm… I don’t think I’ll be taking your car anymore, Son,” Duy Thuan muttered, edging closer to Huynh Son, who had turned to stone. Both Son Thach and Truong Son looked as though they had sobered up completely the moment they saw what was in front of them.

On the sleek, glossy door of Huynh Son’s car was one giant word spray-painted in bold letters:

DOG.

“Ha.”

The first person to speak after the deadly silence was Son Thach—or more accurately, he accidentally let out a laugh.

The sound was cut short the moment he realized Huynh Son was grinding his teeth. No matter how close they were, he was genuinely afraid of Huynh Son. Unlike the rest of the group, Huynh Son actually had brains in his head—his strictness was the dam that held back the waves of chaos within their circle. And once that dam broke, no one dared imagine what he’d do to vent his fury.

“Who did this?” Huynh Son finally spoke, his voice cold, seething with a fury like a volcano about to erupt.

“This has gone too far, even if it’s a joke,” said Truong Son, the only one fully grasping the gravity of the situation. Calming Huynh Son was now priority number one. “Let’s check the CCTV.”

Without hesitation, Huynh Son spun around, his eyes burning with rage. He marched straight back toward the entrance of the bar, where the manager was still busy coordinating the cleanup. No words were needed—just one sharp glance from Huynh Son was enough to demand access to the security footage. Recognizing him as a VIP, the manager quickly complied without delay.

A few minutes later, the whole group was led into the security control room. Surveillance footage flickered across multiple screens, covering the parking lot and entrance. Huynh Son sat down, eyes locked on the playback. The manager nervously rewound the tape until the footage revealed a stranger vandalizing the car.

The CCTV showed a young man in a black bomber jacket pulling a spray can from his pocket and scrawling graffiti across Huynh Son’s prized vehicle. His swift, confident movements suggested premeditation. Once finished, he stuffed the can back into his pocket and quickly walked off.

“Looks like a weasel,” Son Thach whispered to Duy Thuan, who responded with an unamused glance.

After closely inspecting the footage, the manager’s face turned pale. He swallowed hard, then turned to Huynh Son with a hesitant tone.

“Actually… I recognize this person,” he said, his voice shaky with worry.

Huynh Son raised an eyebrow, his eyes sharp as blades—urging the manager to continue.

“That’s… Tran Anh Khoa,” the manager said quietly. “He’s one of the dancers who performs here every weekend. Very popular with the crowd, especially young people... But I never thought he’d do something like this.”

Truong Son, ever the calm one, looked toward the manager and asked bluntly:

“Does he have a problem with us? Why would he randomly vandalize our car?”

The manager shook his head quickly.

“No, I don’t think so. Maybe he had too much to drink and lost control. Honestly, Khoa’s not the type to cause trouble—he’s well-liked by both customers and staff.”

Huynh Son let out a soft chuckle—but it was far from cheerful. His eyes darkened as he stared at the screen, where Anh Khoa was still mid-spray.

“Whether he’s liked or not doesn’t matter. What matters is—he messed with what’s mine.”

Duy Thuan, who had been quiet, suddenly seemed to recall something.

“Tran Anh Khoa… That name rings a bell. I think he goes to the same school as us. Tenth grade, maybe?”

“How do you know?” Truong Son asked with a frown.

“Heard it from someone,” Duy Thuan shrugged. “I was talking to a girl from the performing arts club the other day. She spilled all the tea about the dance crew.”

“All hail the Minister of Foreign Affairs!” Son Thach cheered, throwing an arm around Duy Thuan.

Hearing that, the manager quickly spoke up—

“I will contact Khoa right away and ask him to meet you to explain. I am truly sorry for this incident. We will handle this immediately and make up for our mistake.”

“No.” Huynh Son raised his hand, and the other three immediately fell silent when they recognized that expression on his face — the look of someone who had a plan.

“Send me his work schedule,” Huynh Son clenched his fist, a wicked grin forming on his lips. “I will personally deal with this weasel.”

Though the situation was tense, Duy Thuan didn’t forget his assigned mission. After asking around, he learned that Minh Phuc often went to the library early in the morning — a classic bookworm. He chuckled to himself; this was the first time he had entered a library to flirt with someone.

Duy Thuan stepped into the library courtyard — the space was quiet and airy. Rows of wooden tables and chairs were lined up neatly, sunlight streaming through large glass panels, illuminating towering bookshelves. He walked slowly, eyes scanning the area, and soon spotted Minh Phuc sitting in a far corner, immersed in a thick book.

Minh Phuc wore a neat school uniform, glasses perched on his nose, light brown curls framing his face — he looked harmless, like a soft bun.

Duy Thuan smiled, strolling over with enough presence to be noticed but not cause disturbance. Minh Phuc looked up in surprise, recognizing the troublemaker in this sacred place (to him). At first, he tried to ignore him until the guy pulled out a chair and sat directly across from him.

“What do you want?” Minh Phuc asked cautiously, pulling his book closer to create a clear barrier.

“Does your family own this library or something?” Duy Thuan folded his arms on the table, blinking innocently. “Do I need your permission to be here now?”

“Yes, and yes,” Minh Phuc replied without hesitation, keeping his gaze fixed behind Duy Thuan — avoiding both the guy’s bulging biceps and his flirty eyes.

“Well then,” Duy Thuan clasped his hands like a schoolboy. “I, Pham Duy Thuan, sincerely ask permission from Tang Vu Minh Phuc to sit with you in your family's library.”

Minh Phuc’s lip twitched. Now he understood why his friends fought over this guy.

“Did Huynh Son send you here?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“No, I came on my own,” Duy Thuan leaned on one hand, eyes never leaving Minh Phuc. “I’m curious about you.”

“And you couldn’t just stalk me silently like a normal person?” Minh Phuc raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve never had to stalk anyone. I don’t like sneaky games,” Duy Thuan smiled.

“You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?” Minh Phuc scoffed.

“Depends on your opinion.”

“You still think that F4 label gives you power?”

“So you pay attention to me?”

“Let me tell you, your group doesn’t hold any real power anymore,” Minh Phuc smirked. “Now people call you Princess Huynh Son and his three musketeers.”

“Oh? So I’m a musketeer in your eyes?” Duy Thuan placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be touched. Minh Phuc wished he could slam the book shut on his own head.

“Cut the act. I know you’re not as good as you look,” Minh Phuc sneered. “In fact, I know you’re a pervert. I once saw you watching some anime where naked guys were chasing each other around in the school canteen!”

His voice rose slightly at the end, drawing curious looks from those nearby.

“You mean... Attack on Titan?” Duy Thuan froze.

“There! You even remember the name! Pervert!”

Duy Thuan couldn’t hold it anymore — he burst out laughing, wiping tears from his eyes.

“You’re hilarious, Phuc.”

“First warning,” the librarian finally stood up, pointing a ruler in their direction. Minh Phuc turned pale.

“Sorry ma’am, all my fault,” Duy Thuan waved, flashing a wink that temporarily petrified the woman.

He turned back to Minh Phuc, face glowing from laughter.

“Class is about to start, so I’ll be quick. I’m really curious about you. You must be something special if Son sees you as a rival. And now that I see you’re funny too — we actually vibe well, don’t we?”

“Except I feel like dying every second I’m near you — sure, we vibe,” Minh Phuc replied stubbornly.

“See? You’re fun.” Duy Thuan’s eyes sparkled. “I want to see you more. When are you free?”

“Even if I am, I wouldn’t want to meet you,” Minh Phuc snapped.

“Then I’ll have to stalk you,” Duy Thuan pouted. “You’re the first to make me do that.”

“Congrats.” Minh Phuc firmly closed his book and stood up. “I don’t care. You’ll get bored of this game soon enough.”

“Are you challenging me?” Duy Thuan leaned back, looking up at him. “I love a good challenge.”

Minh Phuc rubbed his forehead. He was about to explode. “Do what you want. I’m leaving.”

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked off without wasting another second.

“Study well,” Duy Thuan smiled and waved gently. Minh Phuc gritted his teeth — he had no idea what he’d done to catch this guy’s attention.

This must be Huynh Son’s scheme. Minh Phuc wasn’t naive enough to fall into the rabbit hole Duy Thuan had dug. He couldn’t believe even the so-called prince had to use cheap tricks like this.

It only proved that Huynh Son didn’t fully trust himself — Minh Phuc smirked, realizing how much influence he must have.

Too bad Son had chosen the wrong person to distract him. Everyone knew Pham Duy Thuan was a flirt — only an idiot would fall into his trap (though half the school was apparently full of idiots).

Minh Phuc wasn’t interested — Duy Thuan’s charm didn’t stand a chance. Sooner or later, he’d give up once he realized he couldn’t crack this one. Guys like him never had the patience to chase someone who saw right through them.

After finding out who had vandalized his car, Huynh Son couldn’t stop at just tracking Anh Khoa’s work schedule. That wasn’t his style. The next morning, he began digging into Khoa’s background — and was surprised by what he discovered.

Anh Khoa wasn’t just a popular dancer at the bar, but also a notorious troublemaker at school — someone feared by both students and teachers.

Despite his charming looks and standout fashion, he was known for rebellious behavior — skipping class, challenging authority, and doing whatever he pleased.

How had Huynh Son never heard of him before? All this chaos had been happening right under his nose.

And this troublemaker was a well-liked figure at his job? The contrast was baffling.

After hearing everything, Truong Son commented, “He doesn’t seem like someone who’d destroy property just for fun. Maybe impulsive, but he knows how to cover himself. If he did this, he probably planned it.”

Son Thach had another opinion. “Maybe he just wants attention. Some people love being the center of drama. But touching your car? That’s stupid.”

Huynh Son agreed with Son Thach. That night, the group gathered at their usual VIP corner. The table was full of drinks, but no one really cared.

Huynh Son was deep in thought, eyes fixed on the stage where Khoa would perform this weekend.

Opposite him, Duy Thuan scrolled through Instagram — Minh Phuc’s profile. The more he learned, the harder this mission seemed.

Minh Phuc wasn’t just smart — he was cautious, unmoved by glitz or surprise encounters.

The memory of him sitting silently at the library that morning replayed in Duy Thuan’s mind.

Son Thach peeked over and smirked. “Still can’t win him over? Son, look at the mess you threw your brother into.”

Huynh Son looked up blankly, not catching the joke.

Duy Thuan smirked. “Unlike those easy bar girls you usually see, Phuc is different — he even figured out our plan from the start.”

“It’s understandable. You’ll have to be more subtle if this mission is to succeed,” Truong Son sipped his drink.

Huynh Son finally spoke, voice calm but firm. “No matter how cautious he is, you have to throw him off. We can’t let him take the upper hand in this election.”

“Don’t worry,” Duy Thuan replied. “I’ll handle it.”

He looked back at his phone. “I just need a little more time to find his weak spot.”

Son Thach tried to lift the mood. “Come on, tonight’s for relaxing. Why’s everyone so serious? Let’s have fun — forget Khoa and Phuc for now!”

He raised his glass, trying to cheer them up.

Huynh Son smiled faintly but didn’t raise his drink. His mind was too full.

Anh Khoa had wronged him. Minh Phuc was the biggest threat to his victory.

Neither could be ignored.

Truong Son clinked glasses with Son Thach and took a sip.

Son Thach rolled his eyes and slumped into his chair. “Boring. Should’ve stayed home.”

Just then, Truong Son’s phone rang. He smiled at the name, catching Son Thach’s attention.

But instead of answering, he silenced it and put it face-down.

“Who was that?”

“A new streamer,” Truong Son answered bluntly.

This wasn’t the first time — his father ran a media company and encouraged him to network with streamers and KOLs.

“Guy or girl?”

“Forget it. Doesn’t matter. But calling this late? Sounds fishy. You two doing more than just business?”

“Why are you so nosy today?” Truong Son raised an eyebrow, making Son Thach nervous.

“Just worried you’ll get lured into something,” he said casually. “There are shady people out there, you know.”

“Yes, dad.” Truong Son rolled his eyes.

“What?” Son Thach blinked, thinking he misheard.

“What what?”

“You just called me what?”

Truong Son looked at him, confused. Maybe it was just Son Thach being weird as usual.

“Back off,” he said, pushing his hand between them. “Two weirdos are enough. Don’t need a third.”

Son Thach gave up, slumping back in his seat.

Meanwhile, Duy Thuan kept scrolling.

He paused at photos of Minh Phuc outside of school — smiling, warm, and sincere.

There were pictures of him volunteering, helping kids in remote areas.

No wonder Son was cautious.

Duy Thuan chuckled to himself.

Then he found something important — Minh Phuc was a prominent member of the school’s debate club.

His eyes lit up, switching tabs to find the club’s Facebook page.

He took a sip of wine, leaned back in his chair, eyes still glued to his phone. Duy Thuan realized that if he wanted to approach and influence Minh Phuc, he would have to be much more careful and clever. Minh Phuc was not the type to be easily swayed by appearances or simple tricks. He had depth, ideals, and was not easy for others to see through.

A difficult puzzle—and unfortunately, Duy Thuan really liked solving puzzles. Smiling, he turned off his phone screen after finishing today’s search, countless other plans unfolding in his mind.

Instead of four people as usual, today only Huynh Son came to the bar—not to have fun, but to meet the person who had offended him. That evening, the bar was filled with dazzling lights, electronic music thumping nonstop, mingling with the lively chatter and laughter of the crowd. The chaotic scene blurred into a meaningless mosaic of movement. As always, Huynh Son sat in the VIP area, sharp eyes scanning the surroundings like a hawk, but no one caught his attention—except the one he was looking for.

On the stage, the crowd began clapping and cheering as the music shifted into a more intense beat. The stage lights focused on a single spot, and then a familiar figure appeared, immediately drawing every eye in the room.

Huynh Son raised his glass to his lips, capturing the figure in his gaze. The manager hadn’t lied about how popular this kid was. He showed up with the whole group, but the only name Huynh Son had heard the crowd shouting was "Tran Anh Khoa."

Each of Anh Khoa’s graceful and decisive movements held the crowd in a trance. Every dance step blended perfectly with the heavy bass and the feverish tempo of the EDM, creating an explosive atmosphere. Then the flash lights gradually brightened, allowing Huynh Son to see the performer’s face more clearly.

There it was—the face of the troublemaker, perfectly matching the nickname Huynh Son had given him. The kid looked outrageously defiant, but the expressions on his face were a major asset to his performance.

Huynh Son stared at Anh Khoa, eyes fixed on the stage. He realized that this wasn’t just a directionless rebel. Every movement Anh Khoa made reflected passion and refined skill. He didn’t dance just to entertain or attract attention—there was something deeper, something bold and free in each of his steps.

The crowd, seemingly hypnotized, began bouncing to Anh Khoa’s rhythm, drawn in by his presence. His eyes sparkled, and a smile played on his lips as he felt the energy from the audience. He blended into the music and the crowd but still retained his individuality—he wasn’t lost in the mass. He was the center.

Confetti rained down, filling the vibrant space, reflecting brilliant neon lights. Anh Khoa ended his performance at its climax, lifting his head as shimmering sparkles lit up his face. He adjusted his breathing with ease, a smile on his lips. The flashing lights pulsed with the music, and the cheers grew louder. He bowed, then stepped down from the stage, melting into the crowd like a ghost, as if he had never stirred the night into such a frenzy.

The lively atmosphere seemed to veil Huynh Son’s thoughts and calculations. Holding his glass, he took a slow sip, eyes never leaving Anh Khoa as he slipped through the crowd.

“What do you think, sir?” The manager appeared beside him at some point, leaning in to whisper in Huynh Son’s ear.

He stayed silent for a moment, then raised an eyebrow.

“Not bad.” A cruel smile curled his thin lips. “Too bad his career ends here. Call him to VIP room number one for me.”

The manager froze at Huynh Son’s decision, a pang of guilt rising in his chest for pointing out Anh Khoa. But unable to defy a VIP client, he nodded and headed backstage.

While waiting, Huynh Son downed the rest of his drink, eyes sweeping the crowd. He didn’t feel tense—just a familiar sense of control that always came when facing a situation he needed to dominate. Then he walked up the stairs to the balcony and pushed open the door to the VIP room.

—

“He said someone wanted to meet me?” Anh Khoa raised an eyebrow, still not understanding the situation. The manager had suddenly rushed into the waiting room, grabbed his arm, and pulled him aside with a vague explanation.

“Yeah... VIP room number one. He’s waiting for you.”

Anh Khoa blinked. His ears flushed red. Alarmed, he grabbed the manager’s shoulders.

“I’m not stripping! Did you forget I’m still in school?!”

The manager slapped his forehead.

“No! He just wants to talk.” The poor man was clearly stressed from the tension of the past few days. “You drew on someone’s car, didn’t you? That guy owns the car.”

Only then did Anh Khoa calm down a bit, exhaling sharply and running a hand through his hair. The manager had hinted at this incident a few days ago, and Anh Khoa had prepared himself to deal with whatever came. Better to settle this than be mistaken for a stripper.

Huynh Son sat with one leg crossed on a leather sofa, lazily swirling a fresh glass of wine in his hand, eyes drifting around the room lit in green hues and mirrored walls. Usually, people didn’t come here just to talk, but he needed a quiet space where he could easily stay in control.

Soon, Anh Khoa appeared, still in performance attire with bold makeup. Huynh Son looked up and nearly laughed. This kid really did look like a ferret—especially with that thick black eye shadow.

Unlike the man’s relaxed demeanor, Anh Khoa approached cautiously, unsettled but saying nothing yet.

“Sit.” Huynh Son gestured with his chin toward the wooden chair across the glass table.

Anh Khoa obeyed silently and waited for the other to speak first.

“So you’re the one who vandalized my car.” Huynh Son set the glass on the table, crossed his arms, and stared at the smaller figure in front of him.

“Sorry,” Anh Khoa suddenly said, cutting him off. “It was all a misunderstanding.”

Surprised by the quick response, Huynh Son raised an eyebrow.

“A misunderstanding? How so?”

“I thought it was Son Thach’s car.” Anh Khoa admitted bluntly.

Huh?

Huynh Son froze at the unexpected confession.

“Last week he cut me off with that car. I saw him step out from the driver’s seat, so I assumed it was his.” Anh Khoa sighed, explaining everything. “I didn’t know it was yours. I’m sorry.”

Huynh Son fell silent for a moment, eyes never leaving Anh Khoa. The kid truly didn’t know the car was his. That revelation unraveled the storm of emotion building up inside him, replaced by awkward realization.

Of course—it was that one time he let Son Thach drive. And now, he was the reason behind all this.

Huynh Son suppressed a sigh, rubbing his forehead. The real cause had softened his anger a bit, but it didn’t erase the insult. He leaned back, eyes locking with Anh Khoa’s.

“I don’t want an empty apology,” Huynh Son said through gritted teeth. “So what are you going to do to remove that humiliating word from my car?”

“Uh…” Anh Khoa froze. He had used the most adhesive paint he could find, never considering this kind of mistake. He wanted the nickname to haunt Son Thach’s luxury car forever.

But now, the car belonged to Huynh Son. Guilt crept in, but no solution came to mind.

“Uh?” Huynh Son tilted his head, amused, watching the defiant kid slowly crumble.

“I could... pay for the repair?” Anh Khoa offered the only solution he could think of. Surely there must be some ultra-strong paint remover somewhere in the world?

“Oh? That’s it?” Huynh Son shook his head, clearly displeased. “No, my car is a limited edition. You didn’t just vandalize it—you insulted my honor. That car already drew attention, now it’s been parading around with the word DOG painted on it. Do you think I can still show my face in public?”

You're still out in public now, though? Anh Khoa thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

Realizing he had no upper hand here, he swallowed his pride.

“So what do you want me to do?”

Exactly what he was waiting for. Huynh Son smirked.

He could tie Anh Khoa to the car to block the word DOG with his body and drive around town. But that would be cruel... or would it? Huynh Son didn’t care.

Still, to avoid being labeled a bully, he leaned forward slowly, locking eyes with the smaller boy.

“I want you to pay for a new car—same model, same version, in perfect condition.”

Not bullying, huh?

Anh Khoa looked stunned for a moment, then quickly regained composure.

“You’re joking, right? You want me to buy a whole new car? What, does it cost several billion dong?”

He scoffed, but irritation crept into his chest. That demand was clearly too much.

Huynh Son maintained a stern expression.

"I'm not joking. If you were reckless enough to destroy my car, you’d better be prepared to face the consequences."

Anh Khoa shot to his feet, his face darkening.

"You're insane. Who do you think I am? You think I have billions lying around to buy you a new car?"

Huynh Son showed no signs of confusion, simply staring at Anh Khoa with a cold gaze, his fingers tapping the table lightly.

"You don’t get it, Khoa. This isn’t about money. It’s about respect. And you’ve disrespected me far too much. I’m giving you a chance to make amends, but if you refuse... I’ll have to take other measures."

Then he tilted his head, pretending to think.

"Or how about you kneel and apologize to Son Thach—on stage, in front of everyone?"

Anh Khoa blinked, unable to believe what he was hearing. The place he cherished most—the stage, the lights, the audience that adored him—and this guy wanted him to kneel before someone he hated?

Clenching his fists, Anh Khoa struggled to stay calm, even though part of him seriously considered punching Huynh Son right there.

"You can’t force me. I’m not someone who can be manipulated by your money or power."

"Power is everything, sweetie," Huynh Son smirked, eyes narrowing mockingly.

"I’m not forcing you, but I can make your life a lot harder if you don’t cooperate. Ask yourself—someone like you, who’s basically a nobody, do you really think you can take me on?"

There was only one answer.

Huynh Son’s words cut straight into Anh Khoa’s pride like a razor. He stood there, eyes full of fury, but fully aware of his disadvantage. Huynh Son wasn’t just the heir of a rich family—he was influential both in and outside the school. Going against him would lead nowhere good.

Sure, Anh Khoa wanted to turn his life upside down, cause chaos to get what he wanted—but this was too much. One wrong move and he could be destroyed, not just get attention.

Huynh Son’s gaze challenged him, waiting to see how he’d back down. He was dead serious.

Anh Khoa inhaled deeply to calm himself.

"That kind of money isn’t easy to earn..."

"I know, which is why I’m not asking you to pay it all at once," Huynh Son said, satisfied that his prey was taking the bait.

"There’s a faster way for you to make money. Want to hear it?"

Anh Khoa already knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

"You’ll work at the bar every night to earn money for me. At school, you’ll be my personal assistant. Anything I need done—you’ll do it. Errands, chores, even bigger tasks I assign."

Anh Khoa frowned, defiance etched across his face.

"You’re joking, right? Every night?! Running errands at school too?"

Huynh Son nodded, his eyes gleaming with smugness.

"Not just showing up every night—you’ll be under my direct supervision. Every time you dance at the bar, I’ll take a cut of your pay. And anytime I need you, you’ll appear. That’s the only way for you to repay your debt."

"You’re being ridiculous. What era do you think this is—still running on slave rules?"

"Every era is one where the big fish eats the small," Huynh Son laughed.

Another breath filled his burning lungs as Anh Khoa shut his eyes, anger coursing through his veins.

One impulsive moment had pushed him into this humiliating position.

"Fine… I’ll follow your terms. But once I’ve paid you back, I’ll have nothing to do with you again."

"We’ll see how easy it is for you to escape me. But for now, you better get to work. Time isn’t on your side, Khoa."

Huynh Son nodded in approval, checked his watch, then stood and smoothed his coat.

"Tomorrow morning, you’ll wait for me at the parking lot, open my car door, and carry my bag. If I don’t see you when I arrive, the debt doubles. Got it?"

It wasn’t a question—it was a threat.

Anh Khoa had no idea what kind of mess he’d gotten himself into.

"I said, got it?" Huynh Son repeated.

"Got it," Anh Khoa growled, on the verge of exploding from frustration.

"Good. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day," Huynh Son smiled as he walked past him lightly, heading for the door, leaving behind the poor soul who had just stepped into his trap.

---

The next morning, Huynh Son arrived at school in a thoroughly satisfied mood.

As his car pulled into the lot, a smug smile appeared on his face at the sight of Anh Khoa already waiting.

In uniform, but tieless, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled, his expression full of reluctant resignation. The usual rebellious spark in him had faded.

Waking up early was never Anh Khoa’s strength, yet now he had to drag himself out of bed just to serve this jerk.

Huynh Son lowered the window and glanced at him. Without a word, his gaze commanded Khoa to come over.

Under the early morning sun, Anh Khoa didn’t even glance at him. He mechanically opened the door and carefully picked up his bag.

Though the actions seemed simple, for Anh Khoa they were a clear humiliation.

Nearby, Huynh Son’s three friends—Son Thach, Truong Son, and Duy Thuan—were watching the scene unfold.

The three exchanged stunned looks before Son Thach spoke.

"Someone spiked my breakfast this morning, right?"

"The prince tamed the wild fox?" Truong Son raised an eyebrow, smirking in disbelief.

Even Duy Thuan, though silent, couldn’t hide his surprise. He knew how defiant Anh Khoa was—never bowing to anyone—and yet here he was.

"Carry it to class and place it neatly on my desk," Huynh Son said, jerking his chin toward the school building.

Anh Khoa glared at him, but kept silent, obediently walking into the school with the bag, muttering curses under his breath.

Huynh Son watched the other three approach him, smiling with satisfaction.

They weren’t surprised by how ruthless he was—but to get results this fast was shocking.

"He thought the car belonged to Thach," he said, raising an eyebrow at Son Thach and crossing his arms.

"From now on, you’re banned from driving."

Son Thach froze, momentarily speechless.

Maybe he should be glad it wasn’t his car. He’d never have the heart to enslave someone like Huynh Son just did—especially not a notorious troublemaker like Tran Anh Khoa.

"Never runs out of tricks, does he," Truong Son sighed.

"So you’ve got him doing errands as revenge—anything else?"

"I also made him work at the bar every night," Huynh Son grinned.

"He loves dancing so much—I’m giving him the dream job. He gets to dance and earn me money at the same time."

The other three stared at the youngest of their group in horror.

This wasn’t a prince—this was a witch.

Duy Thuan glanced at his watch, then looked toward the hallway leading to the library.

"I’ll head out first," he said, waving at the others before quickly disappearing around a corner.

Before they could wonder why, he was already gone.

Inside the library, Duy Thuan scanned the rows of tables.

He stopped at a familiar corner and smiled when he saw Minh Phuc immersed in his notes, lost in his own world.

"You again?" Minh Phuc sensed something off and looked up, immediately scowling at the sight of Duy Thuan.

"Would it kill you to say hi?" Duy Thuan looked a bit hurt, but he understood—Phuc’s impression of him wasn’t exactly good. And that had to change. Fast.

He had been planning this all night.

Instead of sitting with Minh Phuc, he walked to the librarian’s desk.

"I’m not here for you, so don’t be flattered," he said without looking back.

"How generous," Minh Phuc rolled his eyes, though curiosity flickered in his gaze.

Duy Thuan signed up as a library assistant for the morning shift—just basic tasks like sorting books and helping students find materials.

He had made a deal with the librarian to get the easiest tasks, and as always, no one could refuse him.

The library was Minh Phuc’s frequent haunt each morning. If Duy Thuan worked there, he could interact with him more naturally.

Plus, joining school activities would help separate his image from "Huynh Son’s best friend," which Phuc clearly didn’t trust.

"You’re really putting in effort, huh? Giving up your precious morning just to break your back in here?"

Minh Phuc smirked, watching him carry a heavy box to a newly placed shelf.

"For you," Duy Thuan smiled and passed by him, pleased with how smoothly his plan had started.

Minh Phuc clicked his tongue at the guy’s foolishness.

Whatever. Let him suffer—it’s not like this would make him easier to approach.

Then two other assistants walked by, struggling to carry another box.

Minh Phuc suddenly remembered: today was the delivery of hardcover books. It usually took two people to lift one box.

But Duy Thuan had earlier carried one all by himself—without breaking a sweat.

He swallowed hard. He hadn’t expected the guy to be that strong.

What was he supposed to do with this new piece of information?

Minh Phuc closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously, forcing himself to push the thought aside, then lowered his head and buried himself in the pile of books on the table, pressing a hand to his burning cheek.

At lunchtime, the whole group had gathered in the canteen, the atmosphere bustling with chatter and long lines of students waiting for food. But at the table of Huynh Son and his friends, the mood was completely different. Huynh Son sat comfortably, leaning back in his chair, not lifting a finger and simply giving orders.

“Khoa, go get me some food,” Huynh Son said without even looking up, his tone commanding like it was a given.

Anh Khoa stood nearby with a resigned look, having no choice but to accept the situation. He quietly walked toward the serving counter, head bowed under the curious stares and whispers of other students. People were beginning to realize what was going on – the once headstrong, defiant Tran Anh Khoa had now become a servant to the prince, Nguyen Huynh Son.

Huynh Son knew full well people were watching the scene unfold, and that only made him enjoy it more. Playing power games with Anh Khoa wasn’t just about the vandalized car anymore – it was a way for him to assert his dominance. No one could go against him without paying a price.

And this was only the beginning. Countless more plans to torment Anh Khoa were forming in his mind, and Huynh Son couldn’t help but chuckle darkly like a true villain.

The other three just stared as Huynh Son laughed to himself. It wasn’t the first time they saw their friend show signs of madness, but this time felt like a bit much.

“Must be puberty,” Duy Thuan said, glancing at the other two.

“I’ll squeeze every last drop out of that little weasel,” Huynh Son covered his mouth as he laughed, his eyes darkening.

“Puberty,” all three agreed in unison.

Son Thach wondered how long this was going to last, as the atmosphere between the four of them now felt more distant than ever. Duy Thuan kept sneaking glances at Minh Phuc’s table – though the guy was just quietly eating and reading, what was so fascinating about that? And Huynh Son, no need to even ask, was busy tormenting Anh Khoa and thinking up his next move. He no longer joined in the group’s usual silly jokes.

That evening, Duy Thuan didn’t even go to the bar, opting to sleep early instead – now that he was a library assistant, he had to be at school earlier than usual. Meanwhile, Huynh Son sat with arms crossed, watching Anh Khoa dance on stage, occasionally smiling when the other boy’s hateful gaze shot down at him from the stage.

Son Thach felt like he was going to turn to dust from boredom. He downed a drink and flopped over onto Truong Son, who had been busy texting someone the whole time.

“Let’s dance, I’m so bored!” Son Thach whined, grabbing Truong Son’s arm. “I’m about to turn to stone from not moving around!”

Truong Son frowned and looked over, turning off his phone.

“Dance? I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“Pleaaaaseeeeeeeeee,” Son Thach begged, shaking Truong Son’s arm like he was about to rip it off.

Truong Son rolled his eyes, half ready to punch the guy, half thinking it wouldn't hurt to go out and dance a bit. He downed a shot of liquor and let himself be pulled off his seat and into the crowd with Son Thach.

The pounding music and flashing lights made the atmosphere more energetic. Son Thach seemed to snap back to life immediately. His body moved slowly to the rhythm, letting himself blend into the crowd’s energy. Truong Son stood opposite him reluctantly, trying to follow the beat despite still feeling awkward and a bit annoyed by the cramped space. He chuckled when he saw his friend fumbling to catch the rhythm. The music shifted to a slower R&B tune – Truong Son’s specialty. He smiled, lips curling like a cat’s.

Son Thach seemed hypnotized by the way the other boy’s body moved – fluid like silk, both free and seductive, the dim lights gliding over his skin. He blamed the alcohol already in his system, but it seemed like something else was taking over, dragging him deeper into intoxication. Their knees brushed against each other, and Truong Son, afraid of stepping on Son Thach’s foot, turned around and pressed his back against the other’s chest.

The warm scent of Truong Son’s cologne hit Son Thach’s nose, making his nerves go numb. His movements stiffened as he stared blankly at the nape of Truong Son’s neck, his fangs tingling.

Truong Son didn’t notice anything strange from the person behind him, just focused on keeping up with the beat. It wasn’t the first time he danced close like this with friends, so he didn’t think much of it. His hips moved slowly to the rhythm, the alcohol kicking in, and his mind drifted into the past as he melted into the crowd, body brushing freely against others.

He seemed to have forgotten Son Thach was behind him, not hesitating as his hips slid against the front of the other’s pants – just like any other night he danced at the club.

But the person behind didn’t see it that way. He froze like a statue, looking down to see Truong Son’s hips pressing against his waist. Struggling to swallow the lump in his throat, he reached out and grabbed the boy’s hips tightly.

Truong Son flinched and stopped from the forceful grip, feeling like he was about to be folded in half like a chair. He turned around, startled by the serious look on Son Thach’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Son Thach said sternly, staring directly into the other’s wide, confused eyes.

“Dancing?” Truong Son replied groggily.

Son Thach suddenly shut his eyes tightly, struggling to look down, his hands still on Truong Son’s waist.

Truong Son still didn’t understand what was going on, but the music suddenly seemed to cut off in his head. He widened his eyes, eyebrows furrowing, unsure what expression to make. He followed Son Thach’s gaze downward.

“Are you... hard right now?” Truong Son asked in shock, and Son Thach looked just as horrified. The two of them turned to stone right in the middle of the dance floor.