Kaveh plopped the final box on the ground with a relieved huff, dusting off his hands as he took in the empty space around him.

After months of sifting through old newspaper clippings, he had finally scored a great deal on a townhouse just down the road from work. No more cramped basement rooms or listening to Cyno and Tighnari go at it like dogs in heat—this was his space. He couldn't be more proud.

He glanced around with a small, satisfied smile. It was kind of exciting, really.

"Ah! It's really lovely!"

Kaveh turned at the sound of the voice, spotting Candace standing in the doorway, wiping her forehead with a damp cloth in an attempt to cool down from the summer heat. Her blue hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and she was dressed in nothing but a one-piece swimsuit. Kaveh couldn't help but laugh.

"You okay?"

"Sumeru's humidity's nothing compared to the desert, man," she huffed, leaning against the doorframe. "But my god, it's like a sauna in here! Are you gonna be okay?"

"Oh yeah, don't worry. Maintenance is coming by tomorrow—and if not, I've got a couple fans to set up," Kaveh tossed a box cutter onto one of the boxes. "Thanks for helping me out. I know it was short notice, but Cyno's out of town, and Tighnari can barely lift anything with his bad back."

"Don't mention it, honey," Her mismatched eyes scanned the room, though her brows furrowed slightly. "Where's the rest of your furniture?"

Kaveh's smile faltered for a moment. He hadn't thought about it, not in a long while. Before he could muster a response, a small bark echoed from outside.

"Zari!" he called, rushing over to a box labeled KITCHEN in big black letters. "Shit, I forgot to take out her food…"

A Great Pyrenees bounded into the house, tail wagging excitedly as she trotted around. Candace rubbed the fluffy dog's head as she walked towards Kaveh. "Looks like someone's already made themselves at home!"

"The landlord was really cool about me keeping her—the last guy I rented from tried to have her taken to the pound."

Candace pouted, squishing Zari's cheeks gently. "Aweee, but who could hate such a pretty face? You're such a cute lil princess, oh yes you are!"

"She's a diva is what she is!" Kaveh chuckled, shaking the kibble into Zari's bowl and watching her eagerly devour it as he placed it down. Meanwhile, Candace grabbed the water bowl and headed into the kitchen. When she returned, Zari immediately began drinking with such enthusiasm it was as though she'd never had a drop of water before.

The two of them settled down on the hardwood floor next to Zari, leaning their backs against an old, raggedy green couch Kaveh bought at a yard sale Collei hosted. The heat began to settle in the cool apartment, and they each cracked open a bottle of water and shared a half-eaten bag of spicy chips.

Candace stole a glance at Kaveh. She noticed a distant look in his eyes as he stared at nothing in particular. Worry stirred within her-knowing him since highschool gave her an insight almost no one else had about the inner workings of Kaveh's brain. She knew something was up.

"Hey," she said softly, poking his squishy cheek with her pointer finger. Kaveh snapped his head toward her, almost startled, the faintest hint of surprise in his eyes. "You okay? You zoned out again."

Kaveh blinked a few times, as if shaken from a trance. He hesitated, looking at her with a small, almost apologetic smile. "Yeah… I'm fine. Just… thinking."

"Don't lieeee," Candace teased, rolling her eyes.

"No, no I'm not. I just..."

In truth, he didn't know how to feel.

He glanced around his brand new place again, the emptiness of the room staring back at him. It all still felt surreal.

Even without him having to explain, she understood.

"Tomorrow marks a year, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Kaveh mumbled, his throat tight.

A year.

His mind drifted back to that night—the night he had tried so hard to forget. He had pushed the memory to the back of his mind, burying it deep enough so that it didn't haunt him every waking moment.

But it always came back. He used to have nightmares about it. No matter how much he talked to his therapist or how many pages he filled in his journal, he couldn't escape it.

Kaveh drove home faster than he ever had before. He remembered calling Candace and Dehya on the way, a sobbing mess, unsure how to even speak or if they understood his panicked rambles. They had come right away, of course, showing up as the moving van pulled into the driveway, which they didn't even need.

The two silently helped him pack, and they were in and out in an hour with nothing but two suitcases. He didn't take anything that materially mattered—no furniture, no keepsakes, just a couple clothes and a few sentimental items, which hadn't been much at all.

Kaveh hadn't even taken his feather hairpin, the one Alhaitham had gifted him for his birthday. Instead, he left it behind, on their bed. He wondered if Alhaitahm still had it, or if he had thrown it away, or maybe he gave it to Faruzan.

The divorce was finalized in October that year. Kaveh, during that time, had also managed to convince Alhaitham and his lawyers to let him keep Zari. After all, she was his emotional support animal, and he needed her more than Alhaitham ever did—especially after losing their daughter.

Candace noticed his discomfort and, without a word, extended a hand toward him. Kaveh took it, squeezing it tightly.

A year without arguing, without sex, without him . How had he survived? He wasn't sure. He didn't know how he'd managed to keep it together through the long, quiet nights. There were times, too many times, when he wanted to give up—just disappear, to stop feeling everything. He wanted to crawl into a hole and let it swallow him whole.

Kaveh took a deep breath, squeezed Candace's hand once more, and closed his eyes. "I thought I'd be okay by now," he whispered, more to himself than Candace. "But I still don't feel... anything ."

"It's okay to not be okay, Kaveh… I know how crazy you were about him."

"Crazy's a light way to put it," he muttered, swallowing a lump in his throat. Zari finished her meal and wandered to lie at his feet.

Candace parted his lips to speak, but nothing came. There wasn't anything she could really say to comfort her best friend, not that it mattered anyway. It would probably make him feel worse about himself, the situation-so she kept her own feelings locked tight.

Kaveh turned his attention to her as Candace flipped open her phone. "Damn. Sorry, Veh, but I gotta go!"

"Everything alright?"

"Oh yeah," Candace said, waving off his worry with a dismissive hand, though a mischievous smile tugged at her lips. She rose to her feet, and Kaveh followed her movements, walking her to the door. "Totally slipped my mind that me and Dehya are going out with her parents tonight."

She reached the door, turning to face him, her hands wrapping around his in a tight grip. "But hey, if you need anything, and I mean anything , please don't hesitate to ask, okay? I'm right down the road!"

"Oh yeah! You and Dehya just bought that little cottage down by mainstreet, didn't you?"

"Mhm! I think it's not that far of a walk-"

"Oh my god, we have to meet up for morning coffee sometime. That would be so much fun!"

Candace chuckled, squeezing his hands warmly before pulling him into a tight hug. "You dummy." She broke the hug and waved at Zari, who was still lounging on the floor. "I'll talk to ya later!"

"Say hi to the lioness for me!"

"Will do!" Candace called back, flashing him one last grin before jogging down the driveway.

Kaveh stood there for a moment, watching her reach to the edge of the road before he shut the door.

He inhaled slowly.

"Alright, Zari," he said, rolling up his sleeves with a small smile. "Let's get to work, yeah?"

Zari barked, wagging her tail as Kaveh began shredding open boxes, pulling out their contents and finding places for his things. He was almost shocked at how much he had accumulated during his stay at Cyno's.

Ten full boxes. Half of them, unsurprisingly, were filled with clothes. Of course, they were. Kaveh had always had an expensive taste, and the more lavish the garment, the better. He pulled out a blazer adorned with gold embroidery.

Why did I even think to pack this?

The gold threads, once vibrant and eye-catching, had begun to tarnish with years of use, and several beads along the neckline were missing, leaving small, empty holes with a few loose threads. Partly to blame was Alhaitham.

Kaveh's fingers brushed over the frayed edges. There were nights when Alhaitham didn't care how delicate the fabric was, only that it was in his way. He could still feel the firm, impatient tug of Alhaitham's hands, the heat in his voice as he whispered into Kaveh's ear, his body pressed so closely against his that the world around them had disappeared.

A ruby-red blouse encrusted with real sapphires had been the unfortunate victim of their passion. The delicate silk had torn clean in two by accident, its gemstones scattering across the floor like tiny stars. Kaveh had frozen at first, staring in disbelief—a piece worth over three hundred thousand dollars.

But Alhaitham had laughed. "It's just a blouse," he'd said, brushing a stray sapphire off the bed. "I'll get you another, baby."

Oh to feel that shredded silk once more. It was one of the few things he regretted leaving behind. Partly because he wished he had sold it just to spite the millionaire.

Another box was filled to the brim with work journals and sketchbooks. He was still "The Perfect Architect" to some, but that title had lost its shine. His passion for the craft had swiftly died after...

He left his job in search of something more…simpler. And he certainly found it. A position as a front office receptionist at a big construction company. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills.

He was thousands of dollars in debt because of...

Kaveh's hand twitched as his fingers lightly traced the edge of a dusty white album, his breath hitching when he caught sight of the photo glued to the cover. Big glittery letters above it spelled out "Our Forever," a phrase that was just as corny as it was heartbreaking. His eyes softened as he looked at the image—he was so young then, his smile radiant in a way it hadn't been in years.

And Alhaitham…

Kaveh swallowed hard.

Alhaitham looked smoking hot, as always. Sharp jawline, ashy hair swept over those piercing silver eyes, and that effortless cool confidence that had once swept Kaveh off his feet. For a moment, he let himself linger there. Faint echoes of laughter, clinking of champagne glasses, the way Alhaitham's hand had rested so gently on his back during their first dance.

But Kaveh didn't open the album. He couldn't.

Instead, he let out a shaky breath and tossed the wedding album into the bottom of his laundry hamper along with anything that reminded him of Alhaitham.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Kaveh didn't want to sit and sulk and cry anymore.

He had spent the past year drowning-replaying every whispered, broken promise. It clung to him like a second skin, suffocating and inescapable.

Kaveh would rot away in bed, refusing to eat, to drink, to even take a simple shower. The few times he did, he would sit under scalding hot water and let the beads of steam burn his back. And Cyno had enough. There were times the two would get into loud, heated fights that dragged on for hours. He always spoke with the kind of brutal honesty Kaveh didn't want, but so desperately needed.

The pain consumed him, and he was tired...

No more.

Alhaitham was gone . They were through . Nothing could, or would , change that.

He clenched his fists, grounding himself in the present. This was his fresh start, his chance to rebuild, and he wasn't going to waste it wallowing in self-pity.

After all, Kaveh had a gorgeous—well… moderately… cute?

Fine, his place was ugly. The crown molding was far too thick, the kind of garish detail that screamed "builder special" rather than charm. There were far too few windows, making the space feel more like a glorified cave than a home. And the layout? A complete disaster!

Who in their right mind puts a bathroom right next to the kitchen? And you had to step down into it! For God's sake, it was practically a crime against pure, beautiful architecture. His inner perfectionist screamed in agony. He couldn't walk through the place without mentally redesigning it, sketching out better configurations in his head.

First, he'd paint the walls a vibrant yellow—a bold, cheerful shade that would draw in the sunshine spilling through the large double windows by the door. That alone would change everything, giving the apartment the warmth it desperately lacked.

Next, the wall separating it from the living room was a travesty, a relic of poor design that begged to be demolished. He'd turn it into a half wall, topped with a sleek bar area complete with high-backed stools. Perhaps even a quaint little breakfast nook!

As for the bathroom? It had to go. He'd convert it into a laundry room instead—a practical, far more logical use of the space. Then, upstairs, he'd work his magic on one of the closets, transforming it into a luxurious marble bathroom.

A claw-foot tub, elegant and timeless, positioned under a skylight he'd install to bring in natural light. He could already imagine himself sinking into that tub, the stress of the day melting away as he sipped wine and listened to soft music.

Kaveh's eyes sparkled as he envisioned it all, the ideas forming as naturally as breathing.

Still, ugly or not, it was his .

It wasn't perfect—not by a long shot—but it was a blank canvas. And if there was one thing Kaveh knew how to do, it was take something flawed and turn it into something beautiful.

He'd make it work.

Eventually.

Kaveh plastered a smile on his face as he set down a plate of hot, greasy French fries and two frosty beers at a booth table. The patrons barely glanced at him, already deep in drunken conversation, but he didn't care. He turned and headed back toward the bar, silently willing the night to end.

The lights from the dance floor pulsed in erratic bursts, each flash pounding against his skull like a hammer. They could've given anyone an instant migraine—or worse, sent someone with epilepsy into a full-blown seizure. The bassy music reverberated through the walls, so loud Kaveh swore he could feel it in his teeth.

Homayani's was like walking into a death trap wrapped in a haze of booze, with the smell of sex lingering through the air. The dance floor swarmed with horny, drunken university students grinding to the beat, while many uptight businessmen drank their worries away at the bar.

The place had a reputation—infamous, if you asked around. Snorting coke at the bar? Believable. Hooking up with a stripper in the grimy bathrooms? Absolutely plausible. And stepping on a discarded tampon? Not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

But that was the charm of Homayani's, or so people said.

In reality, though, Homayani's was one of the cleanest bars in Sumeru. Most people didn't believe it, but Dehya, the bar's co-owner, head bartender, and Candace's fiercely protective girlfriend, would make you believe it. Dehya didn't tolerate disrespect under her roof.

Her motto was simple: "If I don't see it, it didn't happen."

It wasn't that she encouraged bad habits—far from it. But she trusted people to handle their vices with some level of responsibility. If they wanted to skirt the law, that was their choice, as long as it didn't interfere with the bar's operations or its patrons' safety.

Disorderly conduct, fights, and grossly disrespectful behavior were met with Dehya's personal brand of "hospitality," which usually involved her hauling offenders out by their collars and tossing them onto the street.

It was an approach that earned her respect and fear in equal measure. It was also, funnily enough, how she and Cyno became such good friends.

The first time Cyno stepped foot in Homayani's, he had been dating Tighnari for a couple weeks at this point. The night had started innocently enough—just a casual drink at the bar—but things escalated quickly when someone made the mistake of flirting with Tighnari.

Cyno was on him like a wild animal.

Fists flew as he punched the poor guy repeatedly, his knuckles bloody and raw by the time he was done. Bottles slammed down and shattered against the counter, sending shards of glass flying everywhere.

Dehya dragged Cyno and the unfortunate victim outside, her grip ironclad as she muttered something about "grown men acting like toddlers." What happened next was anyone's guess, but Kaveh had heard the story enough times to know the gist: Cyno and Dehya brawled it out in the alleyway.

By the time they came back inside, bloodied but grinning like lunatics, they were practically inseparable. They'd flipped the guy the bird on their way back to the bar and shared a laugh.

From that point on, Cyno became a regular fixture at Homayani's. He eventually started working a few shifts as the head of security, his sharp eyes and no-nonsense demeanor making him a perfect bouncer.

If Dehya hauled troublemakers out, Cyno made sure they never came back. It was an odd dynamic, but it worked. Between the two of them, Homayani's was as wild as it was safe—at least by Sumeru's standards.

Kaveh had come to respect that, even if the noise, lights, and unwelcoming atmosphere made him question why he'd ever agreed to take a second job here.

Kaveh slouched against the counter, shoulders heavy as he rang up another order of beers on the finicky register. The buttons were sticky, the screen dim, and his patience was wearing thin. All his coworkers gave it the name "Victoria" for how ancient it was.

He barely noticed Dehya watching him from across the bar, her gold eyes calculating as she dried a freshly cleaned glass with practiced ease.

"Sup, sunshine?" Her low, gravelly voice cut through the pounding bass of the music, making him jump. His hand slipped on the register, nearly hitting the wrong button.

"I've got two orders for a Bloody Mary and—"

"Sit down for a moment."

Kaveh blinked, thrown off by the sudden request. "What?"

"Sit." Dehya jerked her chin toward a barstool, tossing the towel over her shoulder.

He hesitated for a second, but he wasn't about to argue with her. He wasn't about to refuse, not when his legs ached from hours of rushing between tables. With a small shrug, he slid onto the stool, glancing over his shoulder at the crowd pulsing under the strobe lights.

Her hands moved fast in time with the beat, the kind of ease that came from years of experience. As the blacklights flickered on, bathing the room in a surreal glow, the glass in her hands seemed to shimmer with an ultraviolet hue. The crowd roared as the music swelled, indicating a beat drop.

The cocktail she was making didn't look like anything on the menu. She poured a shimmering, icy liquid into a chilled glass, its color giving off a blue hue under the blacklights. Even the shaved ice glowed.

"What are you—"

"Relax," she said, cutting him off as she salted the rim with a steady hand. Dehya tossed a lime wedge into the drink before sliding the glass across the counter toward him.

His reflexes kicked in just in time to stop the drink from sliding off the bar. Kaveh stared at the concoction, his brow furrowing as he tilted the glass to watch the light refract through the liquid. It looked like it might bite him.

"What is this?"

"Something you need," Dehya replied, leaning her forearms against the counter as she watched him. "Drink up."

He raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. Kaveh brought the glass to his lips and took a tentative sip, the icy liquid sliding down his throat with ease that chilled him to the bone. The tangy sweetness melted on his tongue, smooth and refreshing, though the sharp acidity sent a jolt of panic through him. His nose scrunched as he pulled the glass away, looking at Dehya with wide, questioning eyes.

She laughed. "No pineapple, don't worry," she said, shaking her head. "Can't have you choking from an allergy on my floor."

"Thank god," Kaveh sighed in relief, taking another sip, this time more confidently. He couldn't help but let out a small hum of approval. There wasn't even that strong aftertaste of vodka. You wouldn't need a chaser with this at all, and that had Kaveh a little worried of how much he should drink.

"You like?"

"It's good," Kaveh admitted, glancing down at the glowing blue liquid. "What is it?"

"Just a Blue Lagoon. Nothing special. You looked like you needed a refresher."

Kaveh chuckled softly, swirling the glass in his hand. "Well, you're not wrong."

"Damn right, I'm not," Dehya said with a grin, leaning one elbow on the counter as she studied him. "Candace said your new place looks nice. I'll have to come by and see it sometime."

"It's… certainly something," Kaveh laughed awkwardly, pushing the empty glass toward Dehya.

Dehya nodded knowingly, tossing the glass into a tub full of soapy water with a satisfying splash. "Plan a night then, and we'll come over for dinner. Don't worry, we'll bring our own drinks—can't trust your taste in liquor anyway."

"Yeah, sure, I'll make sure I've got the place presentable by then."

"Good. Now, get back out there, sunshine! The floor's not gonna serve itself."

"Yeah, yeah," Kaveh muttered, pushing himself off the bar stool. "Get me those Bloody Mary's, please!"

Dehya waved him off without even looking up, and Kaveh strolled over to an empty table. He cleared off leftover dishes as a drunk couple squeezed past him, their hands groping at each other with little care for the space around them. He rolled his eyes but let them pass.

Oh, to be disgustingly lustful with a mind sedative. How gross. Kaveh scoffed inwardly. He would never let himself get that way with anyone—not even his ex. He refused to get so drunk that his thoughts turned to mush, becoming nothing but slop.

It was hella unattractive.

But as he wiped down the table with the towel once strapped to his waist, Kaveh's attention was snagged by a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. A group of men in tailored suits entered the VIP lounge, taking a seat in one of the plush booths reserved for only the wealthiest of guests.

Kaveh's interest piqued immediately. Homayani didn't often have guests rich enough for that spot. He's only ever seen once or twice the lounge being reserved for Dunyarzad's most esteemed business associates, high-level CEOs, and influential power players.

Dehya, ever observant, noticed them too. She tilted her head subtly in their direction, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

Kaveh knew exactly what Dehya was getting at. Not to discount the other staff, but there was no denying that he was the prettiest out of them all. He had that kind of charm. The kind that brought in the most customers, often earning him generous tips for nothing more than his perfect smile. It wasn't just the smile, though—it was everything.

From behind, he could easily be mistaken for a woman. Kaveh had spent years perfecting his body at the gym, sculpting his figure until it was as smooth as he could make it. Many tried to defame him by throwing slurs and calling his efforts fake, insisting he used botox. But, no. His naturally plump ass and distinct curves were hard to ignore. He was a magnet for attention, and when paired with the right lighting or a good angle, he had the kind of beauty that made people stare.

It was a no-brainer why so many drunkards fawned over the blonde.

Candace, ever the tease, often joked that Kaveh could easily grace the cover of PlayTanuki magazine. Cyno, on the other hand, thought he would make a perfect pornstar. Kaveh couldn't really disagree with that one. After all, there had been a time when he did exactly that— camboying his way through college to pay off his student loans.

Kaveh couldn't help but wonder, just for a moment, if he really could pull it off. Maybe in another life. But for now, he was content keeping his charm where it mattered. He would never want to use it for his own gain, but if it put money in Dehya's pocket, then it was worth it.

His eyes flashed across the club.

The thought of serving those men—men who looked like they belonged in a world of luxury—made his stomach twist. He didn't trust himself to walk over there, to serve them drinks, without looking like a complete idiot. Kaveh, despite his own self-assurance, couldn't help but feel small in their presence.

Kaveh let out a frustrated breath, trying to ignore the little flutter of nervousness in his chest. It was so easy to get lost in a world like that. Of course, he would know. He had a taste of it, once.

Kaveh tossed a towel toward the bar, which Dehya caught without even lifting her head. He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, and smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt. His heeled boots clicked along the club's hardwood floors, and his hips instinctively swayed, as they often did, though he straightened up as soon as he was within earshot of the booth.

He didn't need to prove anything to anyone. Not tonight.

But as he got closer, a scent drifted to his nostrils—faint, but unmistakable. Ocean spray, crisp and fresh, mingled with something more earthy, like a smokey forest after rain. It was a delightful cologne, one that Kaveh could only describe as sophisticated. He speculated the cost of it in his head. It was the kind of scent that clung to the air like an invisible signature, marking their presence long after they had gone. Though, something inside told Kaveh this felt..familiar.

The men laughed in unison, their voices deep and smooth. It was only then that Kaveh really felt out of place. The effortless way they moved, the quiet authority in their words. Butterflies dug deep in Kaveh's stomach.

He recognized the stitch work of their suits almost immediately. Pure perfection by Tom Ford—sleek, black, and cut to fit them as if they were made for no one else but them. Kaveh's breath caught in his throat for a moment, his eyes flicking between them as he approached. The nerves that had settled earlier were creeping back, but he quickly forced them down.

'Focus,' he told himself. ' You're not some fawning waiter. You're here to do a job.'

With his pen poised and his head held high, Kaveh cleared his throat. "Good evening, gentlemen! What can I get you?"

Kaveh's eyes scanned each of them, and his heart did jumping jacks in his chest.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

The first man he locked eyes with made him freeze for a moment— Monsieur Neuvilette , the CEO of a high-end jewelry company from Fontaine. Kaveh had several of his designs stashed away in his closet, including that poor, torn ruby blouse. He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of standing in the presence of the man he idolized in the fashion industry.

Beside Neuvilette was Kaeya Alberich , his piercing blue eyes flashing with a glint that sent a shiver down Kaveh's spine. Kaeya was infamous for his seedy dealings in the stock market. He wasn't one to take risk without reward, and often dealt in master manipulation of smaller businesses and malpractice. Kaveh had heard enough whispered rumors about the man to know better than to underestimate him, or be alone with him.

And then, of course, there was Diluc Ragnvindr . The powerful, silent owner of Angel's Share, the most popular bar in all of Teyvat. His demeanor was intimidating yet respected by all who knew him. However, Kaveh could sense the connection between him and his brother, Kaeya. They were inseparable, some even whispered that their brotherly bond wasn't as innocent as it seemed.

Speculation ran rampant that they weren't really brothers at all, but a PR ploy to distract the world from their scandalous love affair. Kaveh's eyes flickered briefly to Kaeya's smirk and Diluc's unreadable expression. He couldn't help but wonder if the rumors were true.

And then, across from the trio, THE Zhongli Morax sat. With a lit cigarette resting lazily in his mouth, he did not stir as Kaveh approached. In fact, he looked unbothered.

Zhongli had his hand in practically every major company in Teyvat, and rumors suggested that he had ties to the Fatui, the Snezhnayan mafia. There was no doubt he was the second richest man in the world, second only to Ningguang , his wife. The two of them were a power couple that practically ran the world.

These men weren't just wealthy—they were legends. And Kaveh could die happily knowing he and he alone would serve these titans of power.

"A round of shots to start," came a voice that Kaveh would recognize anywhere.

That voice—cold, deep, and cocky—sent a jolt straight through him. Kaveh's eyes instinctively flickered to the center of the group, and he nearly dropped his pen. He had to force himself to take a steadying breath, his heart skipping a beat.

Sitting coolly between the four men, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, was Alhaitham.