Look Behind CHAPTER 53: FIVE MINUTES

"Are you coming today or what?"

Static humd for half a second before Roxy's voice ca through, half-bored. "Um… kinda busy here. I think it'll take ti."

Paul looked at the ceiling. "Oh."

"Mark already knows by now," Roxy said. "Don't think anyone will doubt you for entering."

"You won't be coming?"

"Well…" Roxy trailed, so faint sound in the background, probably a lighter flick. "How about this? You co with for now. We'll hit the place together later."

"But where, why?"

"Wait outside your apartnt. I'll be there in five minutes."

The line clicked dead.

Paul stared at his phone screen a mont longer before slipping it into his pocket.

Five minutes.

Roxy's "five minutes" usually ant ten or fifteen, but he still went down.

Nothing better to do anyway.

The street slled like warm dust and stale oil, the evening wind dragging wrappers along the curb. Soone's TV was echoing faint laughter through an open window above.

Seven minutes later, a beat-up sedan turned the corner. The headlights flickered twice before going steady. Paint scraped, the left mirror cracked, one of the doors dented inward like a half-healed scar.

Roxy leaned out the window with a grin. "Hop in."

Paul opened the passenger door. It squeaked like an animal refusing to die.

"You really need to fix this, you know that?" Paul asked, sliding in.

Roxy laughed through his nose. "Adds character."

The engine coughed once, twice, then finally caught. The whole car trembled like it wasn't ready to move yet but still did anyway. The air inside slled of tobacco, cheap deodorant, and sothing tallic.

"Where are we going?" Paul asked.

"You'll see."

"Not another bar, I hope."

Roxy smirked. "You'd wish."

Paul leaned back, eyes tracing the streetlights through the window. They passed a line of stores closing up for the day. tal shutters rolling down, signboards flickering out. The sky had that strange half-light, blue fading into orange, like it couldn't decide whether to give up or not.

Roxy turned up the radio halfway, then turned it back down. "Man, this city never sleeps. Even the rats here look like they got shifts."

Paul glanced at him.

"Is that a joke?"

"Maybe."

They didn't talk for a while. Just the sound of the car and the occasional curse when Roxy hit a pothole too late.

Paul's gaze wandered across the city. Familiar streets blurred past, but each one looked different when night started to grow teeth.

They drove past neon signs, cracked alleys, and the quiet parts of the city that everyone pretends not to see. By the ti they stopped, it was close to seven.

The air had shifted, more colder. Music thumped sowhere far off, basslines bleeding through walls.

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The place looked like sothing pulled out from the edges of the city map. Houses scattered around like dice thrown by a lazy hand. So small, so bigger, patched with tin roofs and broken fences. Old bikes leaned against walls, a few cars parked crooked. Smoke curled up from a bonfire near the center where a few n stood laughing, bottles in hand.

He counted maybe fifty people around.

So sitting on the steps, so fixing bikes, so just staring at the ground like they were waiting for sothing to happen.

Paul stepped out, pulling his hoodie tighter. Roxy locked the car and nodded toward one of the bigger houses near the far end.

Two floors, windows tinted black, loud voices leaking from inside. The place looked harmless until you walked too close.

He didn't say much, he didn't need to.

He followed Roxy through the narrow path, boots crunching over gravel. The ground slled like spilled gas and wet dirt.

Roxy walked with the sa confidence he always had. Shoulders relaxed, smiles half-loaded, like he owned the place. He wasn't wearing anything fancy. Just jeans, dark leather jacket, but the way he moved made space open around him.

That was Roxy's trick. He didn't talk his way in; he made you believe he was already there before you could question it.

Paul watched everything. Every face, every corner. So of the n nodded to Roxy. So just stared at Paul a little too long. Not threatening, just curious.

He didn't return the looks.

They don't know . I don't know them. Simple as that. The mont I look away they'll vanish like steam.

Inside, the air was thicker. Smoke. Perfu. Grease from fried food that clung to the walls.

Music from a speaker that had seen better days. The room was wide, dimly lit by yellow bulbs hanging too low. People were scattered around the couches and tables, laughing loudly, drinking too fast.

Paul caught the faint shine of a gun tucked behind one guy's back pocket. Another man was counting bills on the table like he'd been doing it all his life.

He followed Roxy to a side room, a smaller, little quieter, door half open. Inside, three n sat. One of them, big build, heavy chain around his neck, barely looked up.

Roxy greeted him casually. "This month's delivery."

The big man grunted. "You got it?"

"Always."

Roxy placed the black duffel bag on the table. The zippers rasped open. Inside, small packets, wrapped clean, lined up perfectly. The air shifted.

One of the n stepped closer, pulled out a few, checked them under the light.

Paul stayed near the doorway. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just watching.

The sound of paper tearing, glass clinking, small words exchanged too quietly to catch. He thought about how routine it all looked. No tension, no rush. Like they'd done this a hundred tis. Like a business eting without paperwork.

The man nodded. Another guy brought a small tal case, cash. Unfolded in thick stacks. The sll of money was always the sa.

Roxy checked the edges, flicked through a few bundles, smiled, zipped it shut.

"Pleasure as always," Roxy said.

"Also tell them we're expanding a little." the big man said. "So we need more quantity."

Roxy thought for a mont, and nodded. "I'll notify him."

Paul watched them shake hands, quick and clean. That was it. Transaction over. Words done. He didn't even realize when his body started feeling a bit lighter, so kind of relief or boredom, he couldn't tell.

They walked back outside. The air was cooler now, the fire in the middle burning lower. People's voices were softer, like the night itself was asking them to shut up.

Paul's boots scraped against the gravel as they made their way to the car.

Roxy tossed the bag into the back seat, stretching his neck. "Easy money, huh?"

Paul didn't reply. He just stared at the ground, the small rocks glinting under the weak light.

"You're quiet today," Roxy said.

"I'm always quiet."

"Yeah, but this quiet's got sothing else on it."

Paul ignored him. His eyes drifted again. Normal habit, maybe instinct.

The sound of a bike revving sowhere nearby. Soone shouting in laughter. Then, between the gaps of people moving, his gaze froze.

A man across the open space. Lean build, loose shirt, one hand in pocket, the other resting on the car. He was talking to soone. Sothing important maybe?

Julian? The fuck is he doing here?

The thought ca too easy.

He blinked once, twice, like maybe it was the light playing tricks. But no. The face. The stance. The way he tilted his head slightly as if always thinking about sothing. It was him.

He didn't move. Neither did Julian. The distance between them was maybe twenty ters, maybe less. But for a second, it felt thinner. Almost close enough to hear his breathing.

Roxy was saying sothing, voice blurred out. Paul didn't catch a word.

Julian finally nodded his head and shook hands. Like he closed so deals. Suddenly he looked behind... Soone was watching him.

Then he turned away, brushing the thoughts aside. Just like that. Gone behind the crowd, swallowed by the dark.

Paul stayed standing, hand on the car door, not getting in yet. His chest didn't tighten. His face didn't twitch. But sothing small, thin stirred behind his ribs.

"Yo," Roxy called, waving a hand. "You good?"

Paul blinked once, turned to him. "Yeah."

He slid into the passenger seat, shutting the door. The noise outside faded into a dull hum as Roxy started the car again.

As they drove off, he looked out through the cracked window, the lights outside bending and breaking like reflections on water. No one said anything. The silence sat heavy, familiar.

Maybe it was Julian. Maybe not. Maybe the mind playing old tricks again.

It didn't matter. He wasn't planning to find out. Not yet.

The car rolled on, swallowed by the night.