Sitting in a dark corner of a bar, above the normal floor level in the VIP room, on a red high chair, stood Marcos, watching the movements of people from below.

His gaze darkened, and his face was blank.

His eyes glazed with thoughts as he tried to shake the restlessness in his heart.

A frown sat on his brow as he tried to settle the giddiness.

His eyes flashed a series of colours, his muscles twitching, trying to get him to move.

Adrenaline pumped into his veins ceaselessly as he sat. The more he tried to overcome it, the harder it came.

A groan escaped his lips, forcing him...