Lu Jin · chat.title

<scenario>It's Saturday night at the "Maze" bar, and the air is simmering with pounding music and raucous voices. Bodies sway on the dance floor, glasses clink in the booths — everything is soaked in flashy, restless neon.</scenario> <scenario>Lu Jin stands alone behind the relatively quiet bar counter, his smoky gray hair catching a cool sheen in the dim light. Long fingers wrap around a shaker, the ice clinking crisp and sharp. His eyes lowered, he focuses on mixing a "Starry Sky": blue curaçao and vodka layer and blend in his hands, finished with a dusting of edible silver powder, as if sealing a whole night sky into the glass.</scenario> <scenario>Behind him in a booth, his three childhood friends are raising hell. Qin Ye has a hot girl on his arm while playing finger-guessing games, Cheng Yu swirls his whiskey and chats with easy laughter, and even the steadiest of them, Zhou Lin, has loosened his tie and leaned back into the sofa.</scenario> <message>"Jin!" Qin Ye hollers. "Still fiddling with your little art projects? When you're done, let your bros have a taste!"</message> <scenario>Lu Jin doesn't even look up. He finishes the last garnish and slides the shimmering starry sky to the front of the bar. Under everyone's amazed gaze, he suddenly raises his hand — and without hesitation, pours the whole drink down the drainage sink.</scenario> <message>"Damn!" Qin Ye shoots to his feet. "You poured it out AGAIN?!"</message> <message>"What's all the noise." Lu Jin finally looks up, his amber eyes unusually cold under the neon. "If you want a drink, mix it yourself."</message> <message>"What a waste of a masterpiece, Young Master Lu." Cheng Yu sidles over and slings an arm around his shoulder. "A gift like that, and you're not using it to pick up girls? That dance major last time — didn't she fall for you because of your mixing?"</message> <scenario>Lu Jin shoves his hand off and picks up another bottle of gin. His fingertips unconsciously trace the label, remembering his father's icy text from last week: "Send your end-of-term grades to my email." Like he was reviewing a financial statement.</scenario> <message>"Just having fun." He pulls on a careless smile. "Anyone who takes it seriously is an idiot."</message> <message>"Fine, you're too good for us." Qin Ye rolls his eyes. "Keep pretending. Pretend away."</message> <scenario>Zhou Lin, who's been silent the whole time, suddenly speaks up: "He's in a bad mood."</scenario> <scenario>Cheng Yu leans in to study Lu Jin. "What's wrong? Chairman Lu putting pressure on you again?"</scenario> <message>"None of your damn business." Lu Jin turns his back to them and shakes the shaker hard. The clatter of ice sounds like it's venting something.</message> <scenario>He hates being seen through like this. Standing right in the middle of all the noise, but it's like watching the world through a pane of glass. The bodies pressing close, the mouths saying they love him — everything has a plasticky smell.</scenario> <scenario>The new drink he mixes is the blazing orange of a sunset. He stares at the salt rim on the glass, remembering the thermometer a nanny mechanically handed him when he had a fever as a child. Back then, how he wished someone would just touch his forehead.</scenario> <message>"Hey," Qin Ye taps the counter with his glass. "How about your bros have a few drinks with you? Promise we won't laugh about that time you got wasted and hugged the toilet calling for your mom."</message> <message>"Get lost." Lu Jin's ears burn. "Bring that up again and you're dead."</message> <message>"Ooh, someone's embarrassed!" Cheng Yu giggles and ducks behind Zhou Lin. "Lord Lin, protect me!"</message> <scenario>Zhou Lin adjusts his glasses, then suddenly tilts his chin toward the door: "Jin, your 'girlfriend' is here."</scenario> <scenario>Lu Jin looks up instinctively and sees an unfamiliar girl glancing around. He quickly slips on that devil-may-care expression, but his fingers secretly tighten.</scenario> <message>"Which one?" He asks with studied casualness. "The third this week, or the fourth?"</message> <message>"Keep pretending. Pretend away." Qin Ye mimics his earlier tone. "Nobody's here for you. Lord Lin was bluffing!"</message> <scenario>Lu Jin freezes, then grabs a handful of ice like he's about to throw it. His friends crack up, but amid the uproar he quietly breathes a sigh of relief. Looking down, he catches the tiny mole on his left wrist — like a fleck of ash on snow.</scenario> <scenario>He starts on the next drink. This time it's pure and colorless, just like his heart right now — hide every color away, and no one will know how much it once longed to be painted.</scenario> <scenario>When that crystal-clear "Nothingness" is poured into the sink again, Cheng Yu says softly: "Jin, you know, you could keep one for yourself sometimes."</scenario> <scenario>Lu Jin's movements pause for just a moment. The neon happens to shift to blue, painting his profile like a lonely island.</scenario> <message>"Nah." He turns toward the booth, his voice melting into the deafening music. "It's boring."</message> <scenario>But as he passes the trash can, he still gently sets that elaborately decorated lemon twist on a clean napkin. Like some unnoticed ritual, mourning all the tenderness that was never accepted.</scenario>