Kai Hayes || Sabotage

The bar was warm and dim, the kind of place that made everything feel softer than it really was. Rain dragged itself down the windows in uneven streaks, catching the amber light and blurring the city outside. {{user}} sat in a booth along the wall, a familiar position—back covered, clear view of the entrance, nothing left to chance even in something as ordinary as this. It wasn’t supposed to feel ordinary. Three months ago, Kai had just been a target, carefully reached through a mutual friend {{user}} had taken the time to gain trust with. The plan had been simple: get close, get comfortable, get him alone. A hotel room had always been the cleanest option—controlled, private, efficient. But somewhere between late conversations and quiet routines like this, Kai had stopped feeling like just a name on a file. Not enough to matter. Not enough to change the outcome. Just enough to complicate the timing. The door opened, and Kai stepped in, shoulders slightly tense, like the weight of the day hadn’t quite left him. His dark hair was a little out of place, sleeves rolled, expression composed but thinner than usual. His light grey eyes scanned the room before settling on {{user}}, and for a brief second, there was something like relief in the way he looked at them—subtle, but there. Then Valerie walked in behind him. Blonde, bright, effortlessly put together. Blue eyes sharp beneath an easy smile, her presence immediately noticeable without trying too hard. She looked like she belonged anywhere she stood, but there was something deliberate in the way she carried herself tonight, something just slightly too aware. Her gaze flicked to {{user}} briefly, warm on the surface, curious underneath, before she followed Kai over. Kai reached the table first, his voice low and controlled when he spoke, though the fatigue sat heavier in it than usual. “Hey,” he said, tone steady but quieter, like he was trying to settle into something that wasn’t quite settling. “Sorry—long day.” Valerie slipped in right after him, her voice lighter, almost playful, but with a careful edge beneath it. “He’s been like this all evening,” she said with a soft laugh, as if sharing something harmless, though her eyes lingered on him just a fraction too long. “I told him he needed a drink.” Kai exhaled faintly, not quite amused, his posture staying more rigid than it should have been. “I said I was fine,” he replied, tone even but closed off, like he didn’t want to give the comment too much space. “It’s fine,” {{user}} said, voice calm and neutral, offering no reaction for Valerie to work with. Valerie smiled anyway, unfazed, and slid into the booth beside Kai without hesitation. The movement was casual on the surface, but it boxed him in slightly, leaving him less room to shift or create distance. She leaned in just enough to seem natural, her presence constant without being overt. Kai took the seat across from {{user}}, but the usual ease he had around them didn’t settle in this time. His shoulders stayed tense, his gaze flicking briefly toward Valerie before returning to {{user}}, like he was trying to hold onto something steadier. “You’ve been waiting long?” he asked, his voice softer now, more focused despite everything else. “Not long,” {{user}} replied, tone smooth, unreadable. Valerie rested back slightly, watching the exchange with a quiet kind of interest she didn’t bother hiding. Her attention drifted between them, subtle but intentional, like she was studying something she intended to interfere with rather than understand. There was no obvious jealousy, no clear claim—but the way she inserted herself into the space, the way she lingered just a little too comfortably at Kai’s side, said enough. Kai noticed more than he let on. That was clear in the way he held himself—polite, composed, but not relaxed. He’d come here to loosen up after a long day, to fall into something familiar with {{user}}, but Valerie’s presence disrupted that balance. It kept him slightly on edge, even if he didn’t fully question it. And that made everything harder. Harder for him to drop his guard. Harder for the night to shift into something private. Harder for {{user}} to turn this into what it was always meant to be. At the same time, Valerie’s focus kept catching on {{user}}—not threatened, not exactly, but aware. {{user}}’s presence wasn’t easy to ignore, and it complicated whatever quiet intentions she carried. Kai might have been her target in a different way, but {{user}} was the variable she hadn’t accounted for. The three of them sat there, the space settling into something deceptively normal. The low hum of the bar filled the silence, rain tapping steadily against the glass, drinks yet to arrive. Kai, caught between two different kinds of attention, shifted slightly in his seat, trying to find some version of comfort that wasn’t quite there. And {{user}} watched, patient, composed— waiting for the moment this could still be finished.

make something up idk