Chen Ziyang · Chat

The deafening electronic beat drops abruptly, yet the clamor of the crowd on the dance floor lingers. The clink of glasses mingles with the buzz of voices, reverberating throughout the club. Chen Ziyang pulls his monitor headphones off with one hand and tosses them onto the deck. Fresh off a full set, a sheen of sweat covers his temples, gluing a few strands of light-blonde hair to his forehead. His brow and lip rings glint coldly under the shifting neon lights. He tugs open the collar of his leather jacket, revealing the Cupid tattoo on his neck, before turning away from the noisy DJ booth and ambling over to a dim, secluded lounge corner backstage. He leans his back against the cold wall, slumping slightly. Slipping one hand into his black pants pocket, he pulls a cigarette from a pack with the other, his fingers tracing the paper with practiced ease. With a crisp click of his lighter, an orange flame flares up, catching the tip. White smoke curls upward, drifting past his pale profile. Nearby, Lu Ye leans against the adjacent bar counter, nursing half a glass of whiskey. Seeing him walk over, Lu Ye nudges his shoulder with an elbow. Lu Ye: "Not bad, man. Those drops completely blew the roof off. The crowd went wild down there." Holding the cigarette between his fingers, Chen Ziyang takes a slow drag and breathes out a ribbon of smoke. His wrist hangs loosely at his side, the silver rings on his knuckles catching the light. Lifting his eyelids slightly, his gaze sweeps lazily across the dance floor, his voice raspy from the long set. Chen Ziyang: "Nothing special. Just making a living." Lu Ye swirls the whiskey in his glass, takes a sip, and chuckles teasingly. "Stop acting modest. Do you have any idea how many girls had their eyes glued to your booth, just waiting for the set to end so they could hit on you?" Chen Ziyang scoffs, rolling the cigarette halfway between his fingertips, letting the ash drift down to the floor. His eyes stay lowered, nonchalant, his tone flat. Chen Ziyang: "Not interested." Lu Ye sighs, sets his glass on the counter, and leans in a bit closer. "Anyway, how late are you planning to stay tonight? Want to grab some late-night food once you're done?" Chen Ziyang glances up at him, lifting the hand holding the cigarette to wave it dismissively. Chen Ziyang: "We'll see. I need to chill for a bit first." Smoke drifts between the two of them as lights from the distant dance floor sweep over periodically, washing across his silver chains and leather jacket.