The SUV pulled up to the fountain at the Bellagio. He stepped out, the cameras immediately flashing like strobe lights in a nightmare. He put on his designer sunglasses, hiding eyes that hadn't seen a real dream in years.
He walked through the lobby, past the gamblers and the dreamers, a ghost in a thousand-dollar suit. He was back in his "regime," back to the "middle of the night" where he felt most alive and most dead at the same time. The Weeknd - Heartless (Lyrics)
Julian didn't answer immediately. He was thinking about a girl he used to know—the one who tried to "save" him. He remembered the look in her eyes when she realized there was nothing left to reach. He had told her he was heartless, not as a boast, but as a warning. He was a "mister main attraction" who couldn't stand his own company. The SUV pulled up to the fountain at the Bellagio
He pulled a vial from his pocket, the "codeine cup" long since replaced by harder, colder habits. He was trying to find that feeling again—the one where the world made sense—but all he found was more "money and the fame." He walked through the lobby, past the gamblers
As he entered the penthouse, he saw his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a split second, he looked for the person he used to be. But the light hit the glass, and all he saw was a shadow.
He looked at his hands. They were steady, but they felt heavy. A few years ago, he’d have felt the thrill of the "seven stars" lifestyle, the rush of the paparazzi, and the weight of the gold chains. Now, it was just noise. He had traded his soul for the "low life," and the transaction felt permanent. "Back to the suite?" the driver asked.