Zayn exhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling with each breath as the remnants of the soul-strengthening pill's energy slowly leaked out of him.
He felt a little bit like he was walking on air — except, well, not literally, but it sure felt that way. His body hummed with an unfamiliar power that stirred his soul every time.
The kind of power you could probably feel in the pit of your stomach… or maybe in the back of your skull, where all the bad ideas started.
Either way, Zayn wasn't exactly sure what to do with this newfound strength or how to calm it down.
As he walked down the street, trying to shake off the effects of the pill, the sounds of loud, thumping music caught his ear.
He stopped and looked around.
He turned toward the unmistakable glow of the brothel's neon sign, and as if on cue, his feet dragged him to the entrance, like some kind of inevitable disaster.
