NOVPUB
Chapter 92: Moderation!!!
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.
Taking another deep breath, Zayn pushed the door open, only to be hit by a wave of loud music and the distinct smell of cheap perfume and alcohol.
The place was packed. The air was filled with the sounds of people laughing, dancing, and other things. Zayn’s eyes flickered across the room, only to land on a very familiar sight.
There was Bran. Of course, there was Bran.
Zayn’s jaw dropped. Bran was spraying coins.
Not just tossing them — spraying them. Like he was a walking fountain of gold.
He was sitting at a table, waving his arms dramatically while a group of women in skimpy outfits danced around him.
There were some people on the floor with him — clearly trying to catch the bronze and silver coins in the air as they fluttered down — but Zayn couldn’t help but stare at his "moderate spender" friend with pure, unadulterated disbelief.
"Moderate my ass," Zayn muttered under his breath as he made his way toward the chaos that was Bran’s little corner of the brothel.
As he approached, Bran saw him and flashed a grin that was as wide as the gap in his bank account.
"Zayn! My man!" Bran shouted, his voice just a little too loud as he threw another handful of bronze coins into the air. "You made it! I knew you’d come around!"
Zayn rubbed his temples, resisting the urge to headbutt the nearest table. "Bran, what the hell is this?"
Bran was in full swing now, tossing more coins like he was the one printing money. "This? This is a celebration, my dude! I’m celebrating my moderation!"
"Celebrating moderation?" Zayn gave him a skeptical look. "I don’t even know what that means, and I don’t think I want to."
"Oh, it means I’m spending money wisely, obviously," Bran said, picking up a bottle of what looked like very cheap wine and sloshing it around in his hand.
"I’m only throwing out small amounts. You know, just a little. Not too much. Definitely not too much."
Zayn stared at him for a moment, trying to process the words coming out of Bran’s mouth. "Bran, you’re literally throwing coins at people. I don’t think that’s what ’moderation’ means."
Bran paused, his grin faltering for half a second. "Well, maybe I’m just... spreading the love?"
"Spreading the love?" Zayn echoed. "I don’t think that’s what ’spreading the love’ means, either. You’re literally buying people’s attention with coins. That’s not love; that’s just economics."
Bran threw his head back dramatically, clearly ignoring any sense of reality.
"Oh, come on, Zayn! You just don’t get it. This is about enjoying life!" He took another swig from his wine bottle, smirking at Zayn as he sloshed it around like it was the finest vintage.
Zayn groaned. "I’m not even going to pretend I understand."
"I mean, look at it!" Bran gestured wildly at the women around him, who were still dancing and giggling as coins rained down. "Who else can say they’re this generous?"
Zayn gave him a flat look. "You’re an idiot."
Bran winked. "You bet I am!"
Zayn sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I came here to get my mind off things. I don’t need this... this circus."
Bran clapped his hands together. "Don’t be such a stick in the mud, man! I’ve got plenty of room for you to join in the fun. The night is young! You’re probably not going to get any better offers for the next couple of days."
Zayn thought about it for a second.
He opened his mouth to decline — but Bran was faster, as always.
"C’mon, just a couple of drinks!" Bran grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the center of the chaos. "We’ll throw around some coins, take a shot, and bam, you’ll feel like a new man. I promise."
"Bran, you’re insufferable."
Zayn let himself be dragged toward the center of the madness, half wondering if he was dreaming and half wondering if he’d have a heart attack before the night was over.
As they walked, Bran tossed another handful of coins into the air. The women around them screamed and scrambled to collect the falling money like it was going out of style.
One of them even snatched up a coin and tossed it back at Bran with a wink.
Zayn stared at the scene. "I feel like I’m in some kind of fever dream."
"Yep, definitely a fever dream," Bran said, grinning wildly. "But at least we’re having fun!"
"Yeah, fun. Of course." Zayn muttered as he watched yet another coin fly into the air, making its way to the ever-growing pile at Bran’s feet.
He turned back to the women dancing nearby. "Tell me, do you all make a habit of collecting coins in the middle of a bar?"
One of the women, a tall figure with pink-tinted hair and a glittering smile, shrugged. "Only when he’s around."
She pointed a finger at Bran. "You should see what happens when he gets into the zone. Last time, he practically bought the whole bar drinks for the rest of the night."
Zayn raised an eyebrow. "The whole bar?"
"Yep. We ran out of stock by the end of the night," the woman said, laughing.
Zayn was speechless.
How is this guy not broke yet?
"So, what’s it going to be, Zayn?" Bran asked, pulling him further into the madness. "Are you going to let me enjoy my moderation in peace or are you going to join me in becoming a man of the people?"
Zayn stared at Bran for a long moment, then sighed in defeat. "I think I’ll just get a drink and watch you burn through your coin like it’s nothing."
Bran grinned like he had won a great victory. "That’s the spirit!"
