Red LED lights paint the room in crimson, catching the smoke that curls lazily beneath the ceiling. Floor-to-ceiling windows show the city glittering below, a distant sprawl of lights that seems a world away from the chaos inside.

Twenty-something people fill the space—bodies moving, arms raised, money fluttering through the air like confetti. Bottles crowd every surface, some empty, some still fizzing. Someone screams a lyric back at the booth. Someone else is arguing about a basketball game that ended hours ago.

Jabari is looking in your direction.

His chain shifts as he tilts his head, eyes narrowing just slightly. The producer looks between you and him. Cell follows his stare, a slow grin spreading across his face. Trevon stops mid-celebration. Daniel, from the couch, just watches.