Welcome to the Innocent World

I speared the last bite of chicken, swirling it in the herb sauce before popping it into my mouth, the flavors still popping as I chewed slow.

My plate was nearly empty now, just a few grains of rice and a smear of sauce left, and I leaned back in the chair, wiping my hands on a napkin.

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I glanced at the screen—still no word from John.

"Where the hell is he?" I muttered, frowning as I tapped his name and hit call. The line rang… and rang… and rang, a hollow drone in my ear, but no answer, just dead air. I hung up, shaking my head, and checked the time—late afternoon, the clock ticking closer to evening with every second.

"I should meet up with Lyra and check that damn shore near the coconut trees," I said to myself, pushing up from the table, the chair scraping soft against the marble floor.

I tossed some cash on the table, enough to cover the meal and a decent tip, and headed out of the restaurant, weaving through the lovey-dovey couples still whispering over their desserts. The hotel lobby greeted me with its golden glow, but I didn't linger, stepping through the glass doors into the street.

A chill breeze hit my face as I walked out cool. I took a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs.

The sun was dipping low now, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink, and I turned toward the other hotel where the guests were staying—where Lyra would be waiting. My boots thudded against the pavement, the rhythm steady as I crossed the block.

I pushed through the doors of the second hotel, —glass counters, potted palms, and a buzz of quiet chatter. There she was, Lyra, standing near the front desk, leaning against the counter as she talked to the worker behind it.

Her blonde hair caught the light, cascading down her back in loose waves, and that tight red dress hugged her like a second skin—transparent in spots, with daring cuts slicing up the sides of her thighs and waist, showing off her killer figure. She was all curves and confidence, the fabric clinging to her hips and chest, leaving little to the imagination.

Her husband stood beside her, a short, bald guy with a paunch, his suit crisp but his vibe tired. He muttered something to her, a quick goodbye, then shuffled out, brushing past me as he headed for the door.

I smirked to myself—*she probably married him for the cash, no doubt*—his money the only thing keeping that ring on her finger. He didn't even glance my way, just kept walking, and I didn't care enough to stop him.

Lyra's gaze flicked up, catching mine as I stepped inside, and her face lit up.

"Austin!" she said, her voice warm and bright, a smile spreading across her lips as she pushed off the counter, her heels clicking as she moved toward me.

"Hey, Lyra!" I called back, closing the gap quick. My hands slid to her waist, smooth and firm under that dress, and I pulled her in close, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss—deep, hungry, tasting the faint sweetness of her lip gloss.

Her body melted into me, soft and warm, her arms looping around my neck as she kissed me back, the world shrinking down to just us for a sec.

The girl behind the counter—a young thing with a tight ponytail and a bored look—glanced up at us, one eyebrow arching high as she watched me make out with Lyra right there in the lobby.

I pulled back from the kiss, my lips still tingling from Lyra's warmth, and rested my hands on her hips, the red dress crinkling under my fingers.

"You free now, babe?" I asked, my voice low and easy as I caught her gaze. "We've got somewhere to go together, remember?"

She grinned, her blonde hair catching the lobby's soft light as she tilted her head. "Yes, I remembered—that's why I told him I couldn't come to his meeting," she said, her tone playful but firm. "Don't worry, Austin. Whole night's ours now. We can enjoy however we want." Her smile sharpened, a glint of excitement flickering in her eyes as she brushed her fingers along my chest, teasing the edge of my shirt.

"Let's go then, shall we?" I said, stepping back with a nod, already itching to get moving.

"Sure," she replied, falling into step beside me as we headed for the hotel doors.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, my boots scuffing the marble floor, while she matched my side, her heels clicking sharp and steady.

We pushed through the glass entrance, stepping out into the evening air just as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep bruised purple.

The clock had ticked over to 7 p.m., and the streetlights buzzed to life, pools of yellow glow across the pavement, the island waking up under the cover of night.

We walked side by side, the breeze tugging at her dress, making those thigh-high cuts flutter and show off more of her legs.

"Where are we going, by the way?" she asked, glancing over at me, her voice curious as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"A shore…" I said, keeping it calm, my eyes fixed ahead as the faint salty tang of the ocean drifted closer.

"Shore?" She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking up. "What, you wanna enjoy the beach? Skinny dip under the stars or something?" She nudged me with her elbow, her tone teasing as she painted the picture, probably half-hoping I'd say yes.

"Nah…" I chuckled, shaking my head as I slowed my pace a little, letting the words settle. "I wanna uncover some dark secrets of this place—and figure out why I was called here." My voice dropped lower, the weight of it sinking in as I scanned the street ahead, the towers looming in the distance.

She tilted her head, her smile fading into something more puzzled. "What does that mean?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she studied my face, trying to read me. "Dark secrets? Called here? You're sounding all mysterious now."

"You'll know soon," I said, reaching over to grab her arm, my fingers wrapping gentle but firm around her smooth skin. "Don't worry about it yet—just stick with me." I gave her a reassuring squeeze, my smirk creeping back as I pulled her a little closer.

"Okay, if you say so…" she said, her voice softening, though a flicker of curiosity lingered in her eyes. She leaned into me for a sec, her shoulder brushing mine, then straightened up, trusting me to lead the way like always.

We kept walking, crossing the quiet streets, the island's nightlife starting to hum around us—distant laughter, the clink of glasses from some bar, the rustle of palm fronds overhead.

Tall towers rose up on either side, their glass facades reflecting the last streaks of twilight, guiding us toward the edge of town. The road stretched out, and soon the sound of waves crashing rolled in, steady and rhythmic, growing louder with every step.

I spotted them then—the coconut trees, their dark silhouettes swaying at the shoreline.

I stopped, planting my feet in the sand-dusted pavement, and let out a long "Sighhhh…" as I took it in.

"This is the place…" I said, my voice low, the weight of the waitress's tip settling heavy in my chest. The shore stretched out ahead, waves glinting under the moonlight. Whatever was waiting down there—in that basement she'd hinted at—I was about to find out, and Lyra was right here with me to see it through.