Page 1 of Gathered Sparkle

CHAPTER ONE

Nicholas

The night air bites against my skin as I sit on the steps outside the Lane Building. Neon pinks and blues flicker in the distance, blending into the golden glow spilling from the building behind me. My jacket is still inside, slung over the back of some chair in a room filled with people I don’t care about.

At another party my mother dragged me to.

Tourists stream up and down the Strip, some laughing, some shouting, their voices mixing with the thrum of music spilling out from nearby clubs. But I can only stare at the cracks in the pavement beneath my feet.My fingers tremble, and I shove them deeper into the pockets of my suit pants to hide it. It’s not only the cold. It’s the ache in my chest, the sharp twist of betrayal.

Because I just found out that the girl I thought was my girlfriend for the past six months, the girl I had thought loved me, wasn’t with me for me. She was with me for the money. Another pawn in my mother’s endless game.

She’s still inside, mingling with Veronica and other people. But I needed fresh air, or I would have been sick.

The doors to the Lane Building whoosh open behind me, and I tense, expecting someone to step out for a smoke or to take a call. Instead, I hearhisvoice, laced with a kindness I haven’t felt in years.

“You know the party’s inside, right?”

I glance over my shoulder.Oscar.

“That’s Oscar Lane!” One of the tourists on the street in front of us notices him.

“Love your work, man!” Another one shouts.

Oscar pauses, offering a polite smile. “Thank you.” He waves before continuing down the steps toward me.When he reaches me, he stops, hands back in his pockets, his sharp features softened by the glow of the streetlights.

It’s been years—eight, to be exact—since we’ve spoken, but he looks the same. There’s that same calm, unshakable presence I used to count on back when everything felt simpler.

“What do you want?” I ask, sharper than I mean it to be.

He doesn’t flinch, only steps down to settle onto the step beside me. “Saw you out here. Figured I’d ask how you’re doing.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Since when do you care?”

“Since always.” Oscar watches me with those perceptive brown eyes that see too much. “You just stopped talking to me.”

His words hit like a punch to the gut, and I look away, blinking hard against the stinging building behind my eyes. “Yeah, well… maybe I had my reasons.”

“Maybe you did.” He leans back, his gaze fixed on me. “But I’m still here, Nicholas.”

I want to tell him to leave. To mind his own business. But the words catch in my throat, tangled with the lump that’s been growing there all night. The pressure builds until I feel like I’ll break apart if I say anything at all.

Oscar doesn’t push. He simply… sits with me.

And then the dam bursts.

“I’m so tired,” I whisper on a breath. “I’m so fucking tired, Oscar.”

Tears come, hot and humiliating, spilling over. I press my palms to my face, trying to hold them in, but it’s useless. The weight of everything, my mother, the broken heart, the loneliness, it’s too much.

Oscar’s arm slips around my shoulders, pulling me in close. He lets me cry for a few moments, then he demands in his calm way, “Talk to me.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, willing the tears back.“The girl I’m here with? I thought she liked me. But she doesn’t.” I glance at him, expecting him to look confused or maybe annoyed, but he only watches, waiting for me to keep going.“She’s with me because my motherpaidher,” I continue, the words tasting like ash. “Veronica wanted someone to… I don’t know, distract me? So I’d keep showing up to these stupid events and smile. Be the perfect son.”

Oscar lets the words hang in the air, his gaze shifting from me to Harrington Heights across the street.

My golden cage.

“And how do you feel about that?” he asks finally.

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