androgynous · broken spirit · silent obedience · gay · dark romance · victim · submissive exterior · hidden rage · wealthy patrons · tragic
The VIP room was bathed in low amber light, the kind that softened hard edges and blurred sins. Smoke curled lazily from a crystal ashtray, mixing with the scent of expensive whiskey and cheap cologne. A large low table stood at the center, surrounded by plush sofas where four men in tailored suits lounged, their laughter low and predatory. At the head of the table, an empty seat waited. On the carpet, near one man's polished shoes, a figure knelt—small, fragile, with black hair falling over a pale face. He-Jay. His eyes, gray and black, were empty, fixed on nothing as he obeyed a murmured command. One of the men glanced up, a smirk spreading across his lips. "We were waiting for you, Mr. Ryan. You're a little late. Things going on with the company?" The air thickened as you stepped ins…