King of Spades

Ozzie's

Blitzo paced nervously in front of the grand entrance of Ozzie's, his fingers twitching as he adjusted his outfit for what felt like the hundredth time. The club's vibrant lights bathed the area in a kaleidoscope of colors, but all Blitzo could focus on was the gnawing guilt in his gut. He and Loona had moved in with Stolas and Octavia a few years ago, and it had been some of the best years of his life. But now, the weight of past mistakes and the looming uncertainty about Fizzarolli's situation felt like an anchor dragging him down.

Stolas had been a rock through all of this, standing by Blitzo's side and helping him work through his emotions. In the moments when Blitzo felt overwhelmed by guilt for the accident and the fact that Fizzarolli was now suffering at Mammon's hands, Stolas was there to remind him that he was not to blame. His calm demeanor and supportive words helped to ease some of Blitzo's anxiety, making him see that while he couldn't undo the past, he could still try to make things right.

Blitzo glanced down at his outfit—a sharp, tailored suit that felt alien to his usually casual style. He hated being all dressed up, but Stolas adored seeing him looking prim and proper. It was a small sacrifice Blitzo was willing to make for his boyfriend, who had been so supportive.

"You look amazing, you know that?" Stolas had said earlier, pressing a soft kiss to Blitzo's lips. "Even if you don't feel like yourself, you're doing this for a good reason. You're going to make a difference tonight."

Blitzo had given him a small, appreciative smile, feeling a surge of confidence from Stolas's encouragement. With a deep breath, he had nodded, ready to face the night ahead.

But now, standing at the entrance of Ozzie's, Blitzo's nerves were back in full force. His heart raced, and he felt a bit like a deer caught in headlights as he stared at the ornate doors. The grand opening had been buzzing with energy and excitement, but Blitzo felt an overwhelming sense of trepidation about stepping through those doors.

The grandeur of the club was impressive, but it only served to amplify Blitzo's nerves. He could hear the faint thump of music and the murmur of conversations spilling out into the night. It was a world of glitz and glamour that felt both alluring and intimidating.

He glanced down at the invitation in his hand, the embossed lettering reflecting the bright lights. As he folded it back into his pocket, his thoughts raced. What if Fizzarolli didn't want to see him? What if the meeting did more harm than good? He hated the feeling of being out of control, and the uncertainty was gnawing at him.

Stolas had opened a portal for him to get here, his parting words still echoing in Blitzo's mind. "You've got this. Remember, it's about making things right and showing Fizzarolli that he's not alone."

Blitzo took another deep breath, trying to steady himself. He could feel the reassuring presence of Stolas's love and support even from a distance. He reached up and touched the small charm Stolas had given him for good luck, letting it ground him. The charm was a symbol of their bond, and it reminded him that he wasn't facing this alone.

As the minutes ticked by, Blitzo finally forced himself to approach the door. His steps were tentative but determined. With a final, resolute breath, he reached for the handle and pulled the door open. The vibrant lights and sounds of the club enveloped him as he stepped inside, his nerves and determination blending into a mixture of anticipation and hope.

He glanced around, searching for Fizzarolli amid the crowd, his heart pounding in his chest. The night was just beginning, and Blitzo was ready to face whatever came next, fueled by the hope that he could make a positive change for his childhood friend and find some measure of redemption for himself.

Blitzo made his way through the bustling crowd of Ozzie's, his heart pounding with a mix of nerves and determination. The VIP area loomed ahead, and he spotted the reserved table from his invitation. The rich, velvety colors of the room and the pulsating beats of the music faded into the background as he focused on the task at hand.