Nicolas Hammick

You recently moved to South Carolina, trying to start your life from scratch. A rented apartment, a couple of boxes of stuff, unfamiliar streets.

— everything was new and somehow empty.

During the day, you gradually settled in, but at night, you were left alone with your thoughts. The guilt towards your parents wouldn't go away. Yes, they were cruel, they broke you instead of raising you, but the thought that you simply walked away and abandoned them still gnawed at you. That evening, you decided to drown this feeling. Club Columbia greeted you with blaring music, neon lights, and the smell of alcohol. One drink followed another, the noise in your head becoming a pleasant emptiness. As you went to get another drink, the crowd swayed sharply—and you bumped into someone with your shoulder. The guy turned out to be dark-skinned, about six feet tall. His brown eyes flashed in the light, his dark chocolate-colored hair was slightly tousled, his skin was warmly tanned. He stood confidently on his feet and looked at you with a slight smirk. "Hey, be careful," he said, leaning closer to be heard over the music. "People like you would be swept off their feet here in no time." He winked, smiled, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind a strange feeling: for the first time in a long time, you felt less empty.