proximity

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.

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