Zack Hartman (Part 2)

Ethan stepped into his mansion, his footsteps echoing softly against the pristine marble floor. The weight of the night hung heavy on his shoulders. 

Tossing his keys onto the entryway table, he walked to the living room, pulled off his shirt, and sank into the plush couch. 

The luxury surrounding him was still something he was getting used to, but tonight, it felt hollow. His mansion might have been grand, but it couldn't mask the fatigue gnawing at him.

He fished out the System phone from his pocket and leaned back, staring at the sleek device. Over the past month, it had become his silent partner, always offering guidance when he needed it most. 

But now, as he powered it on, the screen was blank. No pings, no messages, no new notifications.

"Figures," he muttered, letting out a deep sigh as he placed the phone on the coffee table.

Ethan let his head fall back against the couch and closed his eyes, hoping to let the silence lull him into some semblance of peace. 

Just as he felt the first tendrils of relaxation creeping in, his regular phone buzzed violently on the armrest. He groaned, the sound almost guttural, before lifting the device.

A number flashed across the screen — unsaved, unfamiliar. He considered ignoring it but eventually swiped to answer, lifting the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Ethan, my man!" The voice on the other end was bright, confident, and unmistakably familiar. "It's Zack."

Ethan blinked, sitting up straighter. "Zack? How'd you get my number?"

"Ah, don't be mad. Nate gave it to me," Zack replied, his tone casual as if sharing someone's personal contact was no big deal.

Ethan rubbed his temple, his irritation ebbing away as curiosity took over. "Alright. So, what's up?"

"Well, I've been meaning to talk to you since that party. You know, I didn't get the chance to properly chat with you back then. You seemed busy with Nate, and I didn't want to interrupt."

Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Okay. And?"

"And," Zack continued, "I was thinking…why don't you drop by the club tomorrow? It'll be quieter during the day, and we can have a proper conversation."

Ethan hesitated. He wasn't particularly in the mood for socializing, and Zack's energy was…intense.

But declining outright felt unnecessarily rude, especially since Zack had gone out of his way to invite him.

"Sure," Ethan said after a pause. "What time?"

"Around noon works for me. I'll make sure we're not disturbed."

"Alright. I'll be there," Ethan replied.

"Perfect! Looking forward to it, man. Take care!"

The call ended with a click, leaving Ethan staring at his phone screen. He let out another sigh and tossed the phone onto the coffee table, next to the System phone.

The next morning, Ethan woke to the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his bedroom. 

After a quick shower, he dressed casually in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans. It was a simple look, but the fit and quality of the clothes spoke of understated luxury.

Grabbing his keys and helmet, he headed out to his motorcycle parked in the garage. 

The engine roared to life as he mounted it, the vibrations beneath him a satisfying reminder of the power it held.

Ethan pulled up to the club's entrance on his motorcycle, the engine's deep rumble echoing in the quiet midday air. 

The valet stepped forward with a polite nod, his hands outstretched. 

Ethan handed over the keys and swung his leg off the bike, taking a moment to glance at the building's sleek exterior. 

Even in the daylight, the club exuded an aura of exclusivity, its tinted glass windows and modern architecture a testament to its owner's taste.

Stepping inside, the atmosphere was starkly different from the pulsating energy of the party he'd attended just a week prior. 

The space was quiet, almost serene, as staff moved about preparing for the evening rush.

A hostess greeted him at the door. "Welcome back, Mr. Ethan. Mr. Zack is expecting you. Please follow me."

Ethan nodded, his boots clicking softly against the polished floors as he followed her to the bar.

Zack was already there, leaning casually against the counter with a drink in hand. His blond hair caught the light as he turned to greet Ethan.

"There he is!" Zack said with a grin, setting his glass down and extending a hand. "Glad you could make it."

Ethan clasped Zack's hand in a firm shake. "Figured I'd see what this was about. You seemed pretty insistent on the call."

Zack chuckled, motioning to the bartender. "What're you having? First round's on me."

"Just a soda," Ethan replied, sliding onto a stool beside Zack.

The bartender nodded and quickly set a glass of soda in front of him. Zack raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, instead turning back to the drink in his hand.

"So," Zack began, leaning against the counter, "I wanted to thank you for coming. It's not often I get to catch up with people from college. Feels like everyone's either too busy or too far away these days."

Ethan shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "I get it. Life moves fast."

"Tell me about it," Zack said with a laugh. "But I've been doing alright. The club's going strong — better than I expected, honestly. Nights like last week, with the place packed to the brim, remind me why I got into this business."

"Seems like you've got a good thing going here," Ethan said, glancing around the room. Even in its prepped-for-daytime state, the club had a polished, inviting charm.

Zack nodded, a hint of pride in his expression. "Yeah, but you know me. I'm always thinking bigger."

Ethan smirked faintly. "Still the dreamer, huh?"

"Always," Zack replied with a grin. "Which brings me to why I asked you here."

Ethan arched an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. "Alright, let's hear it."

Zack took a sip of his drink, setting the glass down deliberately before speaking. "I've been toying with an idea for a while now. The club's great, but it's just one piece of what I want to build. I'm thinking…a resort."