Chapter 5: Above the CityNico

  Sitting in the back of the car, Nico felt like he was dreaming. The moment it pulled up, he knew it wasn’t a taxi. The sleek lines, dark-tinted windows, and low hum of the engine gave it away. This wasn’t some yellow cab or a random car, it was something different.

  Inside, the leather seats were buttery and pristine, polished to a subtle gleam. The air smelled clean, carrying the warm scent of leather. Everything was spotless, no crumbs or smudges, like the kind of pce only a select few ever touched. Even the soft thrum of the engine felt deliberate. The driver, in a tailored bck uniform, seemed more like an extension of the car than a separate person.

  Nico stared out the window as the city blurred into streaks of neon and headlights. When he gnced at Jordan, he couldn’t help noticing how at ease he looked, his arm draped casually over the backrest, like this was just another Tuesday night.

  "How do you live like this?" Nico blurted before he could think better of it, his voice edged with, what he hoped was, subtle awe.

  “Like what?”

  He was pretty sure Jordan knew exactly what he meant. Still, he gestured vaguely. ”This. The car, the driver, the... whole thing.” He kept his guitar case wedged between his knees like it might secure him, fingers absently tracing the worn leather strap.

  “You always bring that around?” Jordan asked instead of answering Nico’s question, nodding toward the guitar.

  “I usually py keys, but this is easier to carry.”

  “Look at you. Versatile.”

  By the time the car slowed in front of the building, Nico’s pulse had already begun to climb. The structure towered above them, its sheer size and presence commanding attention, as though it had been designed to overshadow everything around it. The fa?ade was crafted from polished bck stone and massive windows stretched across the building’s face, shimmering like mirrors. The building rose higher than anything around it, and each floor seemed to blend into the next, creating a seamless vertical rise that drew the eye upward, as though the building itself was reaching into the sky.

  At the base, the entrance was framed by sleek chrome, cold and sharp against the dark stone. It was a grand, modern portal, more of a statement than a simple entryway, with wide, clean lines and gleaming surfaces that seemed to reflect the surrounding city. The door itself, made of dark, polished gss, seemed almost like a threshold to another world. Standing before it, a uniformed doorman held a practiced posture, his presence as immovable as the building itself.

  When they stepped out, Jordan caught Nico’s hesitation.

  “You can still back out,” he said gently, slipping his hand into his coat pocket.

  Everything about this screamed don’t do it. Nico had to fight to keep the voice in his head—the one practically shouting that he was about to walk into a building with a total stranger who could very well be a maniac—from taking over. But curiosity, as usual, won. It always did when a bad idea sounded a little too intriguing.

  With a deep breath, he straightened up and fshed a grin that was more nervous than confident. “I’m good,” he said, trying to sound casual, though the voice in his head was still screaming definitely not good, but here we are.

  The moment the door swung open, the lobby greeted him with the earthy scent of cedar mixed with something light and invigorating, like fresh greenery. The floors shone, their smooth surface catching the soft glow of the ambient lighting that filled the space. The walls were a cool muted cream, interrupted only by dark wood accents. The atmosphere was quiet, almost meditative, as if everything in the room was carefully arranged to maintain a calm and unhurried rhythm.

  Nico caught himself toying with the zipper of his jacket. “Nice pce,” he offered, mostly to break the silence.

  “It’s fine. Overpriced. The view’s the real draw.”

  The elevator dinged, and they stepped into a hallway with soft carpeting, its walls lined with sleek, contemporary artwork. Jordan’s apartment door was at the end, a matte bck door with a simple silver number. Jordan unlocked it and stepped aside, letting Nico walk in first.

  It was quiet inside. Not just the absence of noise, but a kind of stillness. The space was stark and minimalist, with furniture that looked as though it had been chosen from a catalog for its sleekness rather than its comfort. Shelves lined the walls, but rather than personal treasures or meaningful collections, they held books arranged in neat, orderly rows. Titles with no dust, their spines unbroken, almost as if they had been pced for show rather than for reading. The walls were bare, except for a few abstract prints that might have been plucked from an art store. The entire space was clean, almost too clean. Even the air seemed too still.

  The living room opened up to wide, floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the entire city. Beyond the gss, the city skyline glittered against the night sky, the lights from countless buildings twinkling like stars, as if the city itself were alive and pulsing with energy. The gss seemed to blur the boundary between indoors and out, making the city feel almost like a part of the room itself.

  Nico stepped in slowly, as if the apartment might vanish if he moved too fast. His shoes made no sound on the hardwood. It felt like stepping into a quiet mind.

  “Make yourself at home,” Jordan said as he shrugged out of his coat and hung it near the door.

  Nico slipped off his jacket and stepped out of his shoes, set his guitar gently by the couch, and walked toward the windows.

  The view was ridiculous.

  The whole city twinkled beneath them, like a spilled jewelry box. Silent and distant, like it belonged to someone else. He pressed his palm against the cool gss, feeling the chill from the outside air, as if he could somehow touch the pulse of the city, even from up here. For a moment, he almost forgot where he was, lost in the vastness of it all.

  “You want a drink?” Jordan’s voice pulled him back.

  “Sure. You weren’t kidding about the view.”

  Nico turned as Jordan handed him a gss, the shape suggesting it was wine, before sitting down on the couch. He tried not to look as awkward as he felt.

  “I didn’t expect any of this,” he admitted, his words trailing off as if unsure where to pce them. “I don’t even know what this is.”

  Jordan’s gaze softened as he looked at him. “It doesn’t have to be anything.”

  That should’ve made it easier. Should’ve dissolved the tension building in Nico’s chest. But instead, it only seemed to thicken the air, pulling them closer in a way that left Nico feeling exposed.

  Jordan moved slowly as he sat beside him on the couch. Not so close that it felt invasive, but close enough that Nico could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

  “So… What do you actually do? Besides lurking in dark bars and offering drinks to strangers.”

  Jordan leaned back just slightly, enough to look at Nico without turning away. “I write. Books.”

  Nico’s gaze flickered to Jordan, taken aback by the simplicity of the answer. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “You don’t look like a writer.” Nico narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to catch a lie.

  “What does a writer look like?” Jordan’s tone suggested amusement.

  Nico shrugged. “I don’t know. Messier, I guess. More… tortured? Like they haven’t slept in days and hate themselves a little.”

  “You'd be surprised.”

  Nico grinned, feeling the tension in his shoulders slowly beginning to melt. “Published?”

  “A few times, yeah.”

  He gave a low whistle, clearly impressed despite himself. “That’s cool. I don’t read much, though,” Nico admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he took a drink. The wine was rich, with a velvety taste that seemed to unfold with each sip. “Never really had the patience for it.”

  Jordan didn’t look offended. “Fair enough. Doesn’t mean you won’t someday.”

  “I’d probably read something you wrote,” he said, before he could think twice. Then immediately added: “If it’s not too pretentious.”

  Jordan smiled over the rim of his gss. “Define pretentious.”

  “If there’s, like… seven pages about a tree and its meaning. I’m out.”

  Jordan ughed a soft and easy sound. “Alright. I’ll make sure to cut the trees.”

  Nico sank deeper into the couch, pulling his knees up slightly as he settled in. “What do you write about?”

  “Loneliness, mostly. Dressed up as romance so people buy it.”

  “Romance? Do you pull from real-life experience?”

  Jordan gave a half-smile, almost dismissive. “No.”

  “No? No pns to settle down? No grand love story in your books—or, I don’t know, in real life?”

  Nico caught the shift in Jordan's gaze, his eyes briefly lingering on Nico’s lips before returning to meet his. The movement was quick, almost imperceptible, but it made Nico’s pulse hitch.

  Jordan’s voice was calm when he spoke, but there was something clipped about it. “No.”

  That single word felt like a door quietly shutting. Still, Nico couldn’t help himself as he raised an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of him. “Never?” he asked, softer this time.

  “I like to keep things uncomplicated.”

  The words hung in the air for a moment, and Nico couldn’t help but feel a little thrown off.

  Uncomplicated.

  It felt like the farthest thing from what Nico had ever wanted, or even understood. For him, love was everything. Messy, complicated, unpredictable, but most of all, beautiful. It wasn’t something you avoided. It was something you dove into, something that pulled you in even when it scared you. Why would anyone want to live without it? Or at least, without wanting it? Wasn’t the whole point of meeting people, of connecting with them, to let them in? To discover parts of yourself and them that you didn’t even know existed? To feel something that went beyond the surface, beyond small talk and polite gestures? Wasn’t that the heart of it?

  Love was something that lived in the quiet, in the way two people could be honest with each other even when it was hard, when it made you vulnerable. Nico hadn’t necessarily been in love before, but he’d felt something close to it. Those sparks, those fleeting moments when everything felt like it was about to burst into something bigger. His heart had swelled, and his thoughts had danced with possibilities. But those moments never seemed to stick. He wasn’t sure why, but it wasn’t for ck of longing.

  What Nico truly longed for was the kind of bond where two people could share everything, even the complicated stuff. The moments of silence, the disagreements, the raw, unfiltered emotions that came with trust. He longed for the kind of love that didn’t have to be perfect but made you feel like you finally belonged, like the world made more sense when you weren’t navigating it alone. That kind of love made you feel safe and free at the same time. It was a tangle of feelings, but it was the kind of chaos Nico welcomed.

  But Jordan’s view of it... It was like they were speaking different nguages.

  Suddenly, their worlds felt even further apart, and not just because of the obvious luxury. Nico couldn’t understand how anyone could choose to shut off the most human thing of all. Why would anyone be content with something that hollow? Nico couldn't fathom walking through life without that hunger, and in that moment, he realized just how deeply he longed for something that probably didn’t even exist in Jordan’s world.

  “Tell me something about you.” The sound of Jordan’s voice snapped Nico out of his thoughts. “What does Nico Sanchez do when he’s not singing or following strangers home?

  “I’m just trying to figure things out,” Nico said honestly, though for a moment, he wondered if he was talking about this situation or his life in general.

  “So you’re a work in progress.”

  “I mean, I guess we all are?” It was a question rather than a statement. Nico shifted his weight on the couch, avoiding Jordan’s gaze, unsure of how to navigate the sudden vulnerability he felt. “Maybe you don’t, though. You’ve got this pce, your books, your… motto, I guess?”

  Jordan shrugged nonchantly. “I think you’re right. Everyone’s figuring something out. Just some of us hide it better than others.”

  There was something raw underneath Jordan's polished exterior. Something Nico could almost taste, but it was still just out of reach.

  “What are you figuring out?”

  Jordan's eyes met Nico's, glinting in the low light. He gave a slight smile, but there was no real answer coming. "I'm not sharing all my secrets tonight," he said, pyful, but firm. “Maybe another night.”

  It wasn’t a promise, but Nico hoped it was at least an invitation. He didn’t push, sensing the unspoken boundary.

  “You know,” Jordan said, his voice dropping slightly, “you’ve got this way about you. Like you’re holding something back, just waiting for someone to crack it open.”

  Nico’s heart skipped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but his voice betrayed him, soft and a little too honest.

  Jordan leaned forward, his arm resting along the back of the couch behind Nico. “I think you do. But that’s the fun part, right? Watching you figure it out.”

  Nico drew in a slow breath, trying to steady the flutter in his chest. “And what makes you think I’ll figure it out with you?”

  “I’m patient.”

  The words hung between them like a challenge. It was clear that Jordan knew what he was doing, pying a game of flirtation with precision, giving just enough to keep Nico intrigued without revealing anything too personal. Nico could feel the tension between them building, the edges of the conversation brushing closer to something more.

  He took another sip of his drink, fingers brushing the edge of his gss, his mind momentarily drifting again. He wondered if Jordan even knew just how expertly he was pying this game, how easily he could steer Nico’s curiosity without saying much at all.

  Jordan’s gaze dropped to Nico’s mouth again, and for a moment, it felt like time stalled. Nico swallowed hard, the sound of it louder than it had any right to be. His body was tense, caught in a strange in-between, drawn forward by instinct but held back by doubt.

  What if I’m reading this wrong?

  The thought crawled up his spine like cold water.

  Then Jordan lifted his hand and his fingers brushed against Nico’s cheek, light as air, but enough to send a shiver racing down his back. Nico didn’t dare move, didn’t even breathe. Jordan’s touch drifted lower, grazing the edge of Nico’s jaw then the line of his chin, measured, as if learning the shape of him by touch alone. His thumb paused at the corner of Nico’s mouth. He leaned in, close enough for Nico to feel the warmth of his breath ghosting across his lips but he held the space between them..

  Something caught in Nico’s breath. His eyes flicked to Jordan’s mouth, then back up. And finally, finally, Nico closed the distance, just barely.

  A kiss. Soft, testing. The barest press of lips. More a breath shared than anything else.