"The Black Hole" was a dive bar tucked into a basement in Makati, three levels below the glittering neon of the main strip. It was the only place Ethan felt even remotely safe. The walls were lined with lead-painted brick, and the lighting was provided by old-fashioned wax candles—no filaments to pop, no circuits to fry. Here, the "Solis Hum" was muffled by the thick, stagnant air and the smell of cheap rye.
Ethan sat in the darkest corner, his silhouette blending into the shadows. He was staring into a glass of neat scotch, watching the way the candlelight refracted through the amber liquid. Across from him, Jasper “Jap” Morales was enthusiastically dismantling a plate of spicy wings, seemingly oblivious to the brooding aura radiating from the billionaire.
"You look like you’re attending your own funeral," Jap said, wiping a smear of hot sauce from his chin with a paper napkin that stood no chance. "Again. Seriously, Ethan, you’ve got the 'tortured soul' look down to a science, but it’s getting a little repetitive for the audience."
"Selene came to the office today," Ethan said, his voice barely audible over the low, distorted thrum of a blues track playing on the jukebox. He didn't look up. "She didn't come to offer a blessing, Jap. She came to warn me. She said the 'equilibrium is shifting.' That the more I try to hold the curse back, the more it seeks an outlet."
Jap slowed his chewing, his playful expression faltering for a fraction of a second. "She’s talking about Mika, isn't she?"
"She didn't use her name. She didn't have to." Ethan gripped his glass. A small, audible crack appeared in the crystal, a jagged line creeping upward from the base. He immediately loosened his grip, his knuckles white. "Mika is a Grounder. You were right. But Selene says that a Grounder isn't a cure. It’s a lightning rod. Eventually, the rod melts under the heat. Eventually, the earth itself turns to glass."
"Or," Jap countered, pointing a half-eaten drumstick at him for emphasis, "eventually the storm runs out of rain. Look, Ethan, I’ve been your best friend since we were kids. I’ve seen you accidentally set fire to a treehouse when you got your first crush in the fifth grade. I’ve seen you short-circuit a whole prom because you were nervous about a slow dance. But I’ve never seen you look at a girl the way you look at Mika Dela Cruz."
"I don't look at her in any particular way," Ethan lied, his gaze fixed on a knot in the wooden table.
"Liar. You look at her like a man who’s been underwater for ten years and she’s the only oxygen tank in sight. You look at her like you’re afraid she’ll vanish if you blink, but you’re also afraid she’ll stay and catch fire." Jap leaned back, the vinyl booth creaking under him. "And the best part? She’s not scared of you. She’s probably the only person in the Solis building who doesn't check the ceiling for falling tiles when you walk into a room. She doesn't see a 'Cursed Billionaire.' She sees a guy who needs a coffee and a personality transplant."
Ethan finally looked up, his eyes reflecting the flickering orange flame of the candle. "That’s exactly why she’s in danger, Jap. She doesn't have the instinct to run. She has this... this stubborn curiosity that draws her closer to the center of the storm. If I lose control—if Adrian Cruz pushes me too far or if the corporate stress spikes—she’ll be the first thing that breaks. I can’t have that on my conscience. I can’t be the reason she stops smiling."
"So what’s the plan, Genius? Fire her? Lock her in the basement? We both know that won't work." Jap took a long swig of his beer. "I tried to transfer her, you said. She stayed. You tried to scare her. She laughed. You gave her your hoodie—which, by the way, is a massive romantic trope—and she looked... she looked comfortable. She’s already claimed your territory, Ethan."
"I don't know how to protect someone who won't stay away," Ethan whispered, the "Solis Hum" in the room vibrating the candle flames until they danced in erratic, frantic circles.
Jap leaned forward, his expression uncharacteristically serious. The humor vanished from his eyes, replaced by the loyalty that had kept him by Ethan’s side through a decade of magical mishaps.
"Here’s some 'brutally honest Jap' advice: Stop trying to protect her from you and start protecting her with you. If she’s the ground wire, use that. Don't push her away into the path of people like Adrian, who will use her against you. Teach her what’s happening. Show her the cracks in the foundation. Don't leave her in the dark, because that’s exactly where the predators find their prey."
"I can't bring her into this world, Jap. It’s a death sentence."
"Ethan, look around. She’s already in it. She’s an intern at Solis Tech who just survived a localized monsoon in your office and walked away asking for a raise. The cat isn't just out of the bag; the cat has already moved in, shredded your curtains, and demanded premium tuna."
Ethan went silent, watching the shadows flicker on the lead-lined walls. Jap was right, but that didn't make the fear any less paralyzing. To Ethan, love wasn't a soft, warm emotion; it was a high-voltage current that had scorched his family tree for generations.
"And one more thing," Jap added, regaining his usual smirk as he reached for the last wing. "The 'Masquerade of Shadows' gala is next week. It’s the biggest corporate event of the year. Every shark in the city will be there, including Adrian. I saw him eyeing her in the boardroom, Ethan. He didn't see an intern. He saw a leverage point. If you don't take her, he’ll find a way to get her there himself."
Ethan’s glass finally gave way under the subconscious spike of his temper, snapping in half with a sharp crack. The scotch spilled across the table, soaking into the wood, but Ethan didn't flinch. He didn't notice the wetness. He only noticed the sudden, cold clarity settling in his chest.
"He won't touch her," Ethan said, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating with a power that made the jukebox skip a beat.
"Then give her a reason to stay close to you," Jap said, signaling the bartender for another round. "And maybe, for the love of all that is holy, try to smile. It might scare Adrian more than the magic does. A happy Ethan Solis? That’s the real mystery."
Ethan looked at the broken glass on the table—two jagged pieces that used to be a whole. He realized that for the first time in his life, he wasn't just afraid of the curse destroying someone. He was afraid of losing the only person who made the curse feel like it was worth fighting.
"I need to talk to Noel," Ethan said, standing up and throwing a stack of bills onto the table.
"Always a pleasure, Mr. Sunshine!" Jap called out as Ethan strode toward the exit. "And tell Mika I want my jacket back!"
Ethan stepped out into the humid Manila night. The city lights flickered as he passed, a trail of minor electrical surges following in his wake. He had spent his life building walls to keep people out. Now, he had to figure out how to build a cage strong enough to keep one person safe while letting her close enough to touch his heart.