Just as Ethan started to settle in, a tall guy with thick curls and a relaxed swagger made his way over to their booth, a lazy grin stretched across his face. He wore a patched-up jean jacket and smelled faintly of mint and smoke.
"Max!" he said, pulling Max into one of those quick half-hugs that only long-time friends can pull off. "You made it, bro. Brought a new recruit?"
Max laughed. "Yeah, this is Ethan—he's cool. Ethan, meet Luis."
Luis nodded at Ethan, sizing him up with a curious but friendly look. "Yo, good to meet you, man. You picked a good day. Things are going to be chill tonight."
"Nice to meet you too," Ethan said, returning the nod.
Luis reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small metal case. He popped it open, revealing a neatly rolled joint, and handed it to Max with a wink. "On the house. Rolled it myself. Real smooth."
Max raised an eyebrow. "You trying to impress Ethan with your rolling skills or what?"
Luis chuckled and gave a theatrical bow. "I aim to please."
Max took the joint and turned to Ethan. "You good if we light up? You don't have to, obviously."
Ethan hesitated for just a second, then nodded. "Yeah. I'm good."
Luis flicked open a lighter and sparked the end. The smoke curled up into the pulsing light, and Max took the first drag before passing it to Ethan.
As Ethan inhaled, he coughed once, then settled into the burn. The tension he'd been holding onto—his dad's voice, the sting of the punch, the confusion in his chest—started to loosen again.
Luis leaned against the edge of the booth, watching the room. "You guys should stick around tonight. There's a beat battle later—some of the seniors are dropping tracks."
Max glanced at Ethan. "Wanna stay?"
Ethan exhaled slowly, the smoke slipping from his lips like the pressure leaving his body. He looked around at the lights, the energy, the safety of it all, and gave a small, real smile.
"Yeah," he said. "Let's stay."
As the haze settled around them and the music thumped deeper into their bones, the lights dimmed even more. A spotlight flicked on in the far corner of the room where a small, elevated platform stood—half stage, half DJ booth. Someone tapped on the mic, and a cheer rippled through the crowd.
"Alright, alright," a voice echoed through the speakeasy. "You know what time it is! Beat battle goin' down in ten—so if you got bars, bring 'em. Let's see who's got the fire!"
A group of teens shuffled closer to the stage, energy rising like a storm about to hit. Max nudged Ethan with his elbow. "Told you this place was legit."
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "This is wild. I had no idea something like this even existed here."
Max leaned back, watching the crowd. "Yeah, not many people do. That's kind of the point. Only the right people get in. People who need it."
Ethan looked over at him. "Need it?"
Max glanced at him, eyes serious for the first time that night. "Yeah. A place to breathe. To not pretend. To feel like you belong somewhere, even if it's just for a night."
That hit Ethan harder than he expected. He looked down at the table, fingers drumming softly. "I think I needed this more than I realized."
Luis slid back into the booth, carrying two sodas and a fist bump for Max. "You guys chillin'? Stage is about to heat up."
"Yeah," Max said, taking one of the drinks. "We're good."
As the first beat dropped and a girl with a high ponytail started spitting confident rhymes, Ethan let the music wash over him. The lyrics didn't matter as much as the rhythm, the power, the defiance.
Max leaned in close so Ethan could hear him over the noise. "You know... I'm really glad you came to me, man. I don't know everything that went down, but I know enough to say this—what your dad did? That's not your fault."
Ethan didn't answer right away. His throat tightened.
He turned to Max and managed a whisper: "You ever feel like you're just... broken?"
Max looked at him dead-on. "Nah. But I've felt like the world tried to break me. Big difference."
Ethan nodded slowly. Those words hung in his mind, echoing even louder than the beat shaking the floor.
Just then, the crowd roared as two guys jumped on stage for the next round. But for Ethan, the real moment had already happened—quiet, raw, and real.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone.
YOU ARE READING
Whispering Pages
No FicciónAfter the tragic death of his mother, Ethan, a rebellious teenager, finds himself battling deep depression. Now living with his father Tom , an aggressive drunk, his life is filled with tension and pain. As Ethan tries to navigate his grief and fin...
