The moonlight flowed like water. The night was pristine. The carnival party was pushed to its absolute climax amidst the rolling heat of alcohol and sweat. Figures thrashed and twisted, expending every ounce of energy, fully prepared to dance with complete abandon until the sun rose.
"...Baby, baby, baby, oh..."
The DJ dropped an iconic, brain-washing pop anthem. In an instant, the crowd ignited. Arms shot into the air, accompanied by a cacophony of whistling, howling, and uproarious laughter. The atmosphere was absolute pandemonium.
No words were needed. Every guest knew exactly who the song was dedicated to.
The main spotlight snapped on.
A half-drunk Dwayne Johnson, leading the charge, roared as he began searching the crowd. "Baby! Baby! Baby!"
Without needing further instruction, the entire party joined in, chanting and scanning the churning sea of bodies, desperately trying to locate the star of the night.
But where was Kai?
The spotlight frantically swept across the crowd, hunting for its target. Almost everyone assumed Kai was out by the heated infinity pool. But when the bright beam hit the water, it only illuminated Lando Norris frantically ducking beneath the surface while a group of models giggled around him.
Anthoine Hubert was the first to realize something was wrong. Kai was nowhere to be found.
Hubert wasn't a party animal; he was a self-professed homebody. He had a steady, devoted relationship with his childhood sweetheart. Even at a party like this, he was slightly reserved, preferring to stand quietly in the corner rather than plunge into the madness.
Noticing Kai's absence, Hubert's slightly tipsy brain sobered up instantly. He shoved his way through the dense crowd. After a frantic search, he finally located his target near the bar.
"Lorenzo! Where's Kai?!"
"Haven't you been keeping an eye on him?!"
Over the deafening bombardment of the music, Hubert had to scream to be heard. Anxiety and unease rapidly began to boil, filling his chest.
Lorenzo, however, remained incredibly calm. He casually scanned the room. "He's probably in a corner somewhere."
Hubert was incredulous. "Are you sure?! Kai isn't good at handling these kinds of situations! Plus, he isn't even of legal drinking age. What if something happens to him?"
Lorenzo froze for a second before a massive grin broke across his face.
It seemed that in Hubert's eyes, Kai was just a good, innocent kid. It was only in moments like these that Lorenzo remembered Kai and Norris were the youngest of their entire friend group. Their birthdays were only two days apart. Yet, Kai was already a Formula 1 World Champion.
Still, Lorenzo wasn't worried. Not in the slightest. "Anthoine, my straight-A student, relax. You don't need to worry. Kai knows exactly what he's doing."
Hubert stared at him, his face still full of doubt.
Lorenzo patted Hubert's shoulder. This was the same teenager who had secretly sneaked out of his house to race in illegal underground street circuits in Rome. Out of their entire friend group, Kai was the absolute last person who needed to be babied. "Relax. His skills aren't just limited to the asphalt."
Seeing Hubert still looking deeply troubled, Lorenzo looked him dead in the eye. "Do you trust him?"
"Of course," Hubert blurted out immediately. If he didn't, how could he believe Kai was capable of snatching a World Championship from the jaws of the lions?
Lorenzo's expression relaxed. "Me too. So, don't worry. Even if the rest of us drink ourselves into a coma, he can take perfectly good care of himself."
Finally, Hubert let out a slow breath, his tightly wound nerves loosening slightly. Still, he couldn't resist looking around, muttering under his breath, "Where the hell did that guy run off to?"
Lorenzo's eyes were brimming with amusement. "Probably off on another adventure. Anthoine, we can look forward to this. Next time we see him, it's going to be storytime."
Back at the party, the atmosphere hit its absolute peak as the DJ screamed into the microphone—
"Babyyyyyyy!"
Boom!
Anya whipped her head around, thinking she had caught a faint echo of the chaos. But her line of sight was filled only by the distant, hallucinatory glow of the party. She couldn't hear a thing.
There was no sound. Only beams of light piercing the night sky, their dazzling display somehow feeling profoundly lonely from this distance.
As she settled in, the world around her fell into absolute silence. There was no heavy wind, no crashing waves. The sprawling ocean felt like a tranquil pond, quietly wrapping around her under the cover of night. There was no music, no guests, no strobe lights, no prying eyes. Nothing. Having escaped the dizzying kaleidoscope of Vanity Fair, she could finally, truly find peace. She no longer needed to wear a smiling mask, slowly suffocating in a sea of hollow pleasantries.
Taking a deep breath, she tasted the crisp air, tinged with the faint, salty tang of the sea. Looking up, a boundless canopy of stars poured across the sky. The vast, infinite universe felt as if it belonged entirely to her. Listening to the gentle lapping of the water against the yacht's hull, her racing heart slowly settled into a calm rhythm.
A sudden sea breeze swept past. Goosebumps erupted across her arms, and she involuntarily shivered, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and pulling her knees to her chest, curling into a tight ball.
Suddenly, a wave of warmth draped over her shoulders, blocking out the wind. Anya looked down to find a thick wool blanket. She instinctively nestled deeper into its embrace. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure seamlessly sit down cross-legged to her right, gazing out at the horizon.
"Thank you," Anya said.
Kai offered a soft smile in return. "Just passing on a favor. I didn't quite have the courage to sacrifice my own jacket."
Anya's smile bloomed instantly. "Honestly, I prefer the blanket. Your jacket looks entirely useless against the wind. Are you sure you don't need a blanket yourself?"
Kai turned to her, feigning dramatic shock. "You're not going to share?"
Anya's eyes widened. "So that was your plan all along! I had no idea you were that kind of man!"
Kai spread his hands in defeat. "Alas, my brilliant scheme has been exposed. I spent the whole night pretending to be Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother, and my true colors still slipped out."
Anya couldn't hold it in; she let out a bright, chiming laugh. Following Kai's gaze, she looked out at the ocean. "I used to never understand the world of billionaires. Yachts? Private islands? Why? Why run off to the middle of nowhere, where life is inconvenient, with no internet and no cell service?"
"But tonight, I think I understand it a little."
"It's so quiet. So vast. Escaping the crowd, it feels like—"
She cut herself off, hitting the brakes hard to prevent her true thoughts from spilling out. It was a fundamental survival rule in Hollywood: one slip of the tongue, and you expose your weaknesses to the wolves.
Anya stopped speaking, but to her surprise, a voice beside her finished the thought, as if speaking her own mind aloud.
"Like the entire world belongs to me. The ocean, the sky, the universe. All of it."
Involuntarily, Anya turned her head. She quietly studied the side of Kai's face. In the hazy darkness, she couldn't clearly make out his features. Yet, the quiet, effortless aura he exuded made her heart skip a beat.
That was the second time tonight.
Then, Kai turned his head to look at her, a smile spreading across his face.
Anya panicked. She quickly jerked her head up toward the sky, pretending to search for the North Star. But her eyes wouldn't focus; her peripheral vision kept drifting back to the right.
Fortunately, the lighting was dim. Kai didn't seem to notice, and Anya's hammering heart slowed slightly.
But was it really fortunate? On second thought, Anya wasn't so sure.
Suddenly, she realized the sound of the ocean breeze in her ears had vanished. Aware that her zoning out might have given her away, she snapped her head back toward him.
"What?" The word tumbled out, slightly rushed.
The next second, she saw a faint, amused smile playing in Kai's eyes. It was a mix of teasing and subtle triumph. If she still didn't realize she had just exposed herself, she'd be a fool.
"You did that on purpose," Anya said. It was a statement of fact, squeezed out between gritted teeth. It carried a hint of annoyance and challenge, like a stray kitten unsheathing its claws.
Kai caught it instantly. The corner of his mouth twitched.
But he controlled himself, keeping his gaze level and continuing to stare straight ahead.
"I was trying to be a gentleman."
"I figured, since we went through all the trouble of escaping that party and getting away from the noise and the crowds, the last thing we needed was to force more small talk. Why not just enjoy the rare silence, right?"
"So, I chose to keep my mouth shut."
Then, Kai turned his head, his eyes locking onto hers. "Don't you agree?"
Anya stared at the man in front of her. She should have been furious, yet the corners of her mouth desperately wanted to curve upwards. Was this normal?
"I feel like you're completely full of it, but I don't have any evidence," Anya declared.
Their eyes met.
Neither of them could hold it back any longer. They both burst into laughter. No masks, no restraint, just wild, unapologetic laughter. They completely abandoned any pretense of maintaining their image.
They laughed until their cheeks ached. Anya rubbed her face, her gaze falling back onto Kai.
The invincible aura of a champion owning the world from the top step of the podium. The fleeting, raw vulnerability shown in front of the world's media. The reckless, vibrant energy of a superstar surrounded by adoring crowds. The feral, blood-pumping intensity of a driver carving a path through his rivals on the asphalt.
All those different faces flashed before her eyes. They all seemed to belong to him, yet they felt like entirely different personas.
A thought surfaced in her mind, and she couldn't resist asking. "So, tonight, when you were standing on the top step of the podium... did it feel like you owned the world?"
Ha!
Kai let out a sharp laugh, looking at her with genuine confusion.
Anya didn't look away, meeting his gaze openly. "I've always wondered. When someone like Will Smith or Scarlett Johansson stands dead center in the spotlight, completely surrounded by the elite of society... does that feel like owning the world?"
Kai tilted his chin up, thinking seriously for a moment. "I used to think that was what owning the world felt like."
Anya pressed, "But...?"
Kai looked out ahead, toward the distant horizon where the ocean met the sky. "Until right now. This moment, right here, feels like truly owning the world. Not just the world, but the entire universe. I am so incredibly small, completely insignificant in the grand scheme of the cosmos. Yet, at the same time, I feel so vast. I can open my arms and hold infinite possibilities."
"After all," he continued, "the F1 season is over. Over means over. After tonight, the new season begins. Everything that happened in 2018 is already in the past."
"What?!" Anya gasped, refusing to believe her ears. "That fast? I thought 2019 didn't start for another month! And aren't we still celebrating the championship? How is the season already over?"
Kai chuckled softly. "Honestly, I'm just as confused as you are. I wasn't mentally prepared for it at all."
"In the paddock, every driver gets to choose their own race number. There are only two exceptions. Number 1, and Number 17."
Anya nodded slowly. "Yes, I know. Number 1 is for the reigning champion, and Number 17 was retired in honor of Jules Bianchi."
Kai's eyes widened in genuine surprise. She knew that much detail?
Anya offered a casual shrug. "I asked Lewis about his car number."
Kai nodded in understanding. "According to the regulations, at the end of every season, the World Champion can choose whether to race with the Number 1 for the new season, or stick with their original number. I always thought you just had to decide before the new season started. But right after the podium ceremony, the FIA informed me that I had to make my decision tonight."
"Tonight?" Anya blinked.
Seeing Kai nod in confirmation, Anya struggled to process it. "Tonight? Like, before the close of business? By midnight? In Abu Dhabi time?"
"Haha." Kai laughed heartily. "I didn't ask for the exact hour. They just passed on the message. Starting tomorrow, the FIA has to begin manufacturing all the merchandise. It's not just my car and my helmet. It's their official website, promotional materials, official merchandise, everything."
"The moment I make the decision, the FIA officially enters their prep phase for the new season."
Honestly, Kai had been completely blindsided by it.
Before tonight, the World Championship was still undecided; he hadn't had a single second to think about car numbers. After the race, the entire world was spinning. He felt untethered from gravity, floating in a surreal haze. And yet, the administrative machine was already grinding forward.
While the FIA hadn't given a strict deadline, the implication was clear: they were giving him exactly one night—a few hours—to think it over.
That was why Kai said the 2018 season felt like it had just ended, yet the book was already closed. Everything from here on out belonged to 2019.
It didn't feel real.
World Champion? That was already yesterday's news.
Anya, however, caught a specific detail in his explanation. "You didn't ask for the exact deadline. Which means you already made your decision, didn't you?"
Kai looked mildly surprised.
Anya noticed and smiled warmly. "I guessed right. So, which number did you choose?"
Instead of answering directly, Kai threw the question back. "What do you think?"
Anya didn't mind the game. She hummed thoughtfully, considering it seriously. "You're keeping your current number. Number 22."
"Choosing Number 1 is an honor and a validation. But it's also a declaration. It's like telling everyone in the paddock that you're the defending champion, constantly reminding them—and yourself—of your status. You could argue it's a form of motivation, pushing yourself to fight with 200% intensity in your title defense."
"But to me, it feels like a lack of confidence. That's just my personal take, of course."
"I've always believed that a truly great legend doesn't need a number to validate their existence. It's the exact opposite. Their existence validates the number."
"Take Number 23, for example."
"Before Michael Jordan wore it, there was absolutely nothing special about it. It was just an ordinary digit, one of ninety-nine options. But now, it carries immense meaning entirely because of him. Anyone else who wears that number lives under his shadow."
"At the same time, normal people desperately want to wear Number 23. It's as if wearing it brings them a little closer to Michael Jordan, allowing them to touch the brilliance of a god."
"Number 1 is certainly special, but it isn't unique. Every past champion has worn Number 1. But there is only one Number 22."
"You don't need Number 1 to remind people you're the World Champion. But you possess the power to give the Number 22 an entirely new weight."
"Perhaps one day in the future, when people list iconic numbers—Number 10, Number 23, Number 44—they will naturally include Number 22, and your image will immediately spring to mind. And later, more and more young kids will dream of wearing Number 22 on their race suits, believing that doing so will allow them to touch your greatness."
As she spoke, the light in Anya's eyes grew brighter and brighter. She was confident and resolute, as if she were absolutely certain she had pierced his armor and seen the truth beneath.
In the night breeze, across the vast ocean, sound couldn't gather force. It scattered with a gentle gust, vanishing without a trace. Her passionate, resolute words shouldn't have carried any weight.
And yet.
Her eyes were so bright, so unwavering. She stared directly into Kai's eyes, weaving her conviction into every syllable, slamming it heavily into his chest.
It sent ripples through his core.
Kai listened quietly, right up until the corners of Anya's mouth twitched upwards, a soft laugh bubbling in her throat, her eyes filling with amusement.
"So absolutely certain?" Kai asked.
"Everyone says Hollywood is the capital of dramatic exaggeration. I finally got to see it firsthand tonight. Honestly, was that adapted from an Oprah Winfrey speech?"
Anya deliberately lowered her head, pretending to search the edge of her neck, like Tom Cruise ripping off a silicone mask in Mission: Impossible.
Then, she mimed yanking it upwards and turned back to Kai. "My apologies. You've uncovered my true identity. You've left me no choice; I have to silence you. I am actually Oprah Winfrey."
Hahaha!
The laughter burst from Kai's throat; he couldn't control it. "What if I told you I just think 22 is my lucky number, exactly like Lewis?"
Anya shook her head, narrowing her eyes at him. "No, you don't believe in luck. Just like tonight. Everyone believed Mercedes would take the title. But clearly, you don't believe in destiny, and you don't need the favor of Lady Luck. You carve your own path with your own two hands."
"Phew." Kai let out a long breath. "Damn it, all my secrets have been exposed. To successfully defend my title next season, I can't let my rivals know my weaknesses. You've left me no choice. You have to stay here tonight."
Anya sat there, shaking her head continuously. "You should be very glad you didn't go to Hollywood."
Her acting critique was brutal.
Despite being roasted, Kai looked entirely unbothered. "I told you earlier, I survive purely on my good looks. You shouldn't have any expectations regarding my actual talent."
This time, it was Anya's turn to erupt in roaring laughter.
Kai's eyes were equally full of mirth. "Yes. I told the FIA I'm keeping Number 22."
No hesitation. No second-guessing.
After the FIA representative had explained the situation, Kai had given his answer on the spot. It was clean and decisive, without a hint of reluctance. He was so quick that it actually flustered the FIA officials. They had to remind him that he could take his time to think it over and didn't need to be so impulsive.
Impulsive?
No, not at all. Just as Anya had said, it was just a number. It held no inherent value to him.
The championship was his. It belonged to him. He didn't need a constant reminder on the nose of his car. Similarly, he didn't need an artificial motivator to chase a second title. The fighting spirit was always there.
Anya blinked at him. "Surviving on good looks alone breeds true confidence, doesn't it?"
Their laughter echoed in the sea breeze.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the world grew quiet again. Neither of them spoke. They just sat quietly, listening to the wind, the waves, and the occasional distant song of a whale.
Time seemed to freeze. Everything slowed down. If you quieted your mind, you could almost hear the faint rustle of sand falling through an hourglass. The massive world shrank down until only the two of them remained, standing at the edge of time, watching the universe quietly burn, just like the final scene of Fight Club.
Then, Kai noticed something unusual.
Breathing.
Anya's breathing had gradually become even and light. It sounded almost like...
Turning his head, Kai saw Anya's head drooping heavily. She was resting her face on her crossed arms over her knees, fast asleep.
So, that entire profound, cinematic moment was just his own delusion?
Kai couldn't hold it in anymore. A full, genuine smile broke across his face. There was no need for tension, no need for defenses. Everything simply relaxed.
He looked back out at the horizon. His heartbeat was steady and strong. The chaotic, suffocating rush of the past few hours finally settled. The dizzying, gravity-defying madness of the victory celebration finally grounded itself. The reality that had been lost amidst the flashing lights and popping champagne finally landed heavily in his stomach.
It pressed down with a solid, undeniable weight.
It was finally real. World Champion! An impossible mission had truly become reality. His rookie F1 season had concluded.
The next time he stepped onto the asphalt, he wouldn't be a rookie anymore.
Then, at the very edge of his vision, Kai caught a glimpse of blue. It was an intense, absolute blue—so rich it looked like it was spilling over, yet so clean it was almost transparent. It bled softly along the seam where the ocean met the sky. The ink-black canopy of night began to blur like velvet. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
Involuntarily, he held his breath.
Kai knew what this was. The Blue Hour. The most magnificent, ethereal moment just before the dawn breaks.
But wait, how did that happen? It felt like it was just past midnight a second ago. How was the sun already rising? Where had the time gone?
But there was no time to analyze it. Kai gently nudged Anya with his shoulder.
Anya lifted her head groggily. "Mmph?"
Her utterly bewildered expression clearly screamed: Who am I? Where am I? What are we doing? Turning her head, she met Kai's eyes. Even in the boundless dark, they were incredibly bright. The next second, Kai lowered his voice.
"Sunrise."
Anya froze. Following his gaze, she turned to look. Before her brain could fully process the information, she was captivated by that pure, immaculate band of blue. She instinctively held her breath, watching quietly. The halo of blue light seemed to possess a life of its own. It stretched like a cat waking from a nap, expanding outward and seeping into the endless night.
For a brief, fleeting moment, the world was completely dark and utterly silent. No starlight, no neon, no sound. Time and space lost all meaning.
But it only lasted a fraction of a second!
A hazy, glowing sliver of orange shoved its way through the thick darkness, peeking over the horizon. It pried open a crack in the sky, stubbornly revealing its profile.
Her groggy, muddled brain was still trying to determine if it was actually the sun. Before she could form a coherent thought, it surged upward against the night sky. Between a blink and a wide-eyed stare, the salted-egg-yolk sun revealed its upper half. Soft, delicate rays of golden-red light pierced the darkness, radiating with immense power. In the next second, it shredded the night into countless fragments, rolling the darkness back toward the edges of the earth like a retreating tide.
The sky brightened, piece by piece.
The lazy, golden light spilled playfully across her face, banishing the night and the cold. Her stiff muscles relaxed, and she couldn't help but bask in the warmth.
Anya paused.
Sunrise!
Instinctively, she turned her head, wanting to share the magnificent sight with Kai. As she did, she caught the profile of his face, slowly illuminated by the golden rays. His sharp, clear features, bathed in the sunlight, carried an aura of profound tranquility.
Anya forgot to breathe. She just sat there, frozen.
Kai seemed to notice her gaze, carried on the sunlight touching his face. He turned to look at her. The tranquility in his eyes quietly receded, replaced piece by piece by vibrant, pulsating life. The fierce, untamed arrogance in his bones flared vividly. And then, the corners of his mouth drifted upwards into a light, airy smile.
"Good morning."
Her heart skipped a beat. That was the third time.
Anya's smile mirrored his, curving into an identical arc. Listening quietly to her own heartbeat, a profound sense of happiness rapidly swelled in her chest.
She rubbed her eyes and replied, her voice still thick with a husky, sleep-laced rasp. "Good morning."
It turned out there was another way to end a party. A uniquely beautiful one.
The sun climbed steadily into the sky, officially bringing the night of carnival to a close.
However, a few stubborn figures still lingered on the beach, refusing to let go, thrashing about like a horde of demons. The rest of the partygoers had long since collapsed in exhaustion, hiding from the light like vampires. Only these few remained energetic, dancing and singing, attempting to drag the "corpses" back to their feet to keep the party going under the blazing sun.
Their howling and screeching in the morning light sounded hoarse and desperate, carrying a tragic air of lonely helplessness. Even the decadent music still pumping from the DJ booth felt hollow. Electronic music exposed to the harsh sunlight sounded weak and pathetic. The post-carnival dance floor, the pool, and the grand hall seemed utterly devoid of life.
The few figures still wandering and struggling looked like a pack of lost, wandering ghosts.
However, those ghosts weren't the only ones awake.
"...No, no, no, no..." Hubert paced back and forth across the sand. Despite his best efforts to suppress it, he couldn't control his mounting panic.
A long, chaotic, completely disorganized trail of footprints marred the sand, serving as a silent testament to their creator's frantic state of mind.
Norris sat on the sand, hugging his knees. Throughout the entire night of partying, he hadn't felt an ounce of fatigue. But now, bathed in the warm morning light, his muscles finally relaxed, and the delayed soreness exploded. His eyelids felt like lead. His brain went on strike. Even his speech was becoming slurred.
"Anthoine, relax. Kai is fine." Norris couldn't even finish the sentence before letting out another massive yawn.
But Hubert couldn't calm down. "It's been the entire night. No one has seen Kai, Lando. No one has seen him for the entire night!"
Norris pulled his knees tighter, crossed his arms over them, and rested his cheek on his forearms, closing his eyes. He planned to just take a tiny nap right here on the beach.
Just a tiny one.
"Charles disappeared too," Norris mumbled.
Surprisingly, the usually well-behaved Leclerc had also completely vanished last night. Almost no one had tracked his whereabouts either.
Hubert took a deep breath. "Of course. Charles. We need to worry about Charles too. But Charles isn't Kai! Kai was the absolute focal point of the night! He was supposed to be dead center in the spotlight. No matter what corner he was in, he should have been watched and surrounded. He couldn't just vanish into thin air!"
"Unless..."
He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, terrified of jinxing it.
It took Norris a moment to process the implication. "Unless what? Someone kidnapped him?"
Hubert sucked in a sharp breath.
Norris waved a dismissive hand. "Anthoine, nobody wants to kidnap a rookie F1 World Champion. If there really were bad guys here, there are a hundred billionaires at this party who are much better targets. They wouldn't bother with Kai. He's probably just curled up in some corner, completely wasted, passed out and waiting for us to come scrape his body off the floor."
Hubert lunged forward. "Yes! Exactly! That's probably the truth. But the point is, we haven't found him, have we? He's lying out there waiting for us to collect his body, and we all completely forgot about him! God, we are terrible friends!"
Hubert was spiraling, unable to stop the torrent of words.
Anxiety, guilt, confusion, unease. His personality was fundamentally unsuited for parties. He slept on a strict schedule, woke up on a strict schedule, and lived his daily life bound by absolute routine. This level of chaos completely shattered his habits. Everything was out of his control, and the feeling of his internal organs constantly being on fire was overwhelming.
"Lando..."
Norris didn't respond.
"Lando!"
Norris was teetering on the edge of deep sleep, but Hubert violently yanked him back to reality. He didn't open his eyes. "Lorenzo is making calls right now. The security team confirmed Kai never left the party grounds. He's definitely still here. They're doing a grid search. They'll find him soon."
"LAN! DO!"
Hubert let out a rare, guttural roar, violently hauling Norris to his feet.
Half-asleep and entirely off-balance, Norris tipped backward, landing hard on his rear end in the sand.
"Lando! The yacht!"
Norris's head was full of question marks. "This is a marina. It's full of yachts. What, are you just noticing them now...?"
The words died in his throat. Following Hubert's terrified gaze toward the ocean, Norris saw a yacht slowly drifting toward the beach.
The vessel, riding the morning light, was massive, imposing, and magnificent. It instantly silenced every word.
If that were all, they wouldn't have lost their composure.
The crucial detail was that the yacht wasn't heading toward the docks. It was pointed straight at the beach. You didn't need a maritime license to see that if it didn't change course immediately, its path would result in total devastation. A visible, impending disaster was unfolding right before their eyes.
No wonder!
Hubert was paralyzed. Norris was equally dumbstruck.
Finally, several beats too late, Norris snapped out of it. He grabbed Hubert's arm, hauling himself up, and stared at the approaching vessel in absolute horror.
"Steering—brakes—does he think he's filming a James Bond movie?!"
Incoherent and rambling, Norris had no idea what was happening.
Hubert was slightly calmer—only slightly. His first coherent thought was, "Who is on the yacht?!"
Norris didn't answer, because he had no idea either.
But there was no time to wait. The yacht was plowing into the shallows. Only up close did they realize just how gargantuan it was.
Hubert and Norris scrambled backward. Even though logic dictated a yacht moving at that wobbly, sluggish pace probably wouldn't breach the sand, it was better to be safe than sorry. With their brains completely stalled out, they stared in bewilderment as images of the Titanic flashed through their minds.
The grinding sound of the approaching hull startled the passed-out 'zombies' scattered across the party grounds. Dozens of people groggily woke up, squinting through the sunlight as they stumbled onto the beach to join the crowd of onlookers. The spectacle quickly drew a massive audience.
Then, the yacht came to a halt—
It stopped awkwardly, in the middle of nowhere. It was far from the docks, yet still a fair distance from the actual beach.
Hubert's jaw dropped. He had absolutely no idea what was going on. What was the plan? Were the passengers supposed to swim to shore?
The next second, an involuntary gasp tore from his throat. "Kai!"
"Who?! Where?! Wait, what?!" Norris snapped fully awake, all traces of exhaustion vanishing instantly. "Where's Kai?!"
Following Hubert's pointed finger, Norris looked toward the deck. Two figures had appeared. And one of them was undeniably Kai, the man who had been missing the entire night!
Norris surged onto his tiptoes, throwing both arms into the air and waving frantically. "Kai!"
Seeing the groggy, hungover partygoers gathering around them, Norris flashed a massive, boastful grin. "That's my friend."
Up on the deck, Kai seemed to spot Norris and Hubert. He raised his right hand and offered a slow, majestic wave, like a royal greeting his loyal subjects.
Ho!
The small cluster of onlookers erupted in cheers, waving back enthusiastically. It felt like they had teleported straight into the final scene of Titanic, watching Jack board the ship.
But the cheers had barely begun before they morphed into shrieks of terror. Gasps echoed across the beach. Hearts stopped.
Because the two figures on the deck had launched themselves, one after the other, diving like dolphins straight into the ocean. Two white splashes erupted in the sparkling, azure water.
The crowd on the beach couldn't process the scene fast enough. They instinctively held their breath. But seconds later, the two figures broke the surface. Cheers and applause instantly exploded. People exchanged looks of pure disbelief. The residual adrenaline of the carnival night flared up, releasing all their remaining energy.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the man and the woman swam toward the shore. They dragged themselves out of the ocean, their footsteps heavy in the wet sand. They were completely soaked and covered in saltwater, but the smiles on their faces were absolute. Bathed in the morning sunlight, they radiated a blinding, almost divine brilliance.
The cheers were uncontrollable.
Roar! Roar! Roar! The party wasn't over yet!