Chapter 1: last chance ; prologue
Chapter Text
Ever since he was a child, Chance had never thought much of anything outside of him.
It wasn't in a cruel manner, he simply liked to focus on what he could do which usually was something his parents scolded him for, not anything else. At least, that was the case until his father's death. It wasn't a surprise, everyone had expected it. The coughing, his father forgetting his name at times, and the faint spells... He had just hoped that perhaps it'd pass. It did not. So there he is, standing in front of his father's grave, clenching his fists as if his anger could bring him back to life. It was ridiculous, now Chance was truly all alone.
He wasn't allowed the luxury of pretending no more, no he was now the sole owner of their casino. It couldn't get any worse, right? Unfortunately, he was down on his luck. It turned out that when his father had left the world, he had left the casino's financial struggles to Chance, an outstanding debt. When Chance had first seen the amount, he had laughed it off, throwing it onto the table. Surely, it was a joke. How had his father even managed to obtain that debt? Of course, it wasn't. The past few days had been a blur for Chance, staring at walls mindlessly as he flipped his coin, searching for an answer.
Life had been so cruel that he couldn't even find peace at sleep, waking up in the midst of a nightmare as he forced himself to relax. It was pathetic, embarrassingly so that he had moved Spade to stay in the other room, fearing his emotions would cause her to panic and he refused to allow her to fall with him. Sometimes, the nightmares were so bad that he found himself in front of the toilet vomiting, allowing himself this pain as it was only way he could feel relief.
'I used to wear Italian.' He would think to himself some nights as he'd scrub the bile from the rug, pinching his eyes shut. 'Now I'm on my knees, scrubbing my own puke like a child.'
He had talent, he knew that, but even with all the rounds he could win, Chance knew it'd only earn a slim amount of what he needed to have, but he couldn't lose the casino. He'd rather die, it was all he had of his life, the last thing familiar.
He just needed one last chance.
Chapter Text
Sometimes Chance wonders that if he knew the outcome to the risk he'd take, would he still go through it? He was willing to die trying in the face of adrenaline, but if he knew it was a failure in the end, was there any point? All he knew was that he'd do whatever it took to reach his goals, even if it meant sacrifices, but he didn't think it would go this way, that his own tricks would be played against him.
It had started off so innocent then, the gambler hadn't even formed a plan yet then, instead wasting away on his recliner in silence as Spade kept him company, nibbling on lettuce.
'Knock! Knock!'
The sudden sound catches him off guard from his touts, falling to the floor at the noise in shock. He quickly dusts his jacket as he walks over to the door, quickly pulling it open. He doesn't think he's called for anyone so what was it? In the doorway, a young lady is poised, ready to knock again. Ah, one of the new dealers, he remembers. Upon seeing him, she freezers before straightening up.
"Hello sir, apologies if I was disturbing you, but it was urgent." The words fall from her lips shaky and nervous as if a single mistake would cause her to be thrown away.
Yet, Chance wasn't bothered by the disturbance, far too intrigued by what could be so urgent to call him straight away. He sure hopes it isn't another meeting about the debts, those were far too predictable and dull. "No worries, what is it?"
"There have been rumors of a man who has arrived recently, he's been known for a few things.." The lady says, recounting the situation. "We did further research and he seems to be quite the influential figure, we compiled a document which the rest of the staff thought you should keep a copy of."
Chance finds himself growing more eager as she goes on about this stranger that he's practically itching to reach for the folder she hands him. As soon as it falls into his hands, he waves her off gently so he can see it in privacy. She bows before heading off into the hallway. He wastes no time in opening, flipping through the pages as he skims through the intel before landing on the man's profile.
'iTrapped...what an interesting name.'
The man is strangely gorgeous, blond hair tucked into an elegant ponytail and dressed beautifully in an aristocratic style that he almost pities that the poor man caught his attention. It's then Chance pauses, noticing the expression on the other's face. The man was smiling, but it wasn't of kindness nor joy.
It was the kind of smile he's seen plenty of in cocky jerks who thought they won, but this man's smile was far more different. It was blank, it was one for power and control. One of someone who desired everything.< Not to mention, the gambler observed how many of the organizations that iTrapped was once worked with had plummeted into bankruptcy, yet not a single dime affecting the man.
Hm, maybe there were some things the gambler could learn from him. Chance knew this man was dangerous and that thought alone should have scared him off, but it only made him want to learn more about this man and perhaps see what he could gain from him. As he reads on, he takes note that iTrapped seemed to be of some importance, he had been seen associating with a few notable clubs and.... even Builderman? Chance's eyes widen at the name, he knew the big boss? If Chance were to befriend him...perhaps iTrapped would do him a favor, then once the business was safe he'd leave and become a fleeting memory for the man.
Chance reads on, but there's no further information if they knew each other well. It doesn't matter though now because it's at that very moment the gambler decides he and iTrapped will become very good friends.
Notes:
Finally, Itrapped has appeared~ I started this story originally on Wattpad, but I’ll be moving here now though eventually I’ll update it there ^_^ Once again, feel free to tell me your thoughts and ideas!!
Chapter Text
Chance had no intentions to approach him so early, to be truthful he had forgotten about his plans to confront the man in the midst of it all. The moment he saw the man, the gambler had almost forgotten how to breathe right, he had felt as if he lost the ability to walk even. The very same man upon the file he had left on his desk for weeks, seated at the bar like he owned it — iTrapped.One leg crossed loosely over the other, navy coat draped over the back of his chair, posture all poise and precision. He wasn’t speaking to anyone.
He drank from his glass like it was a performance — practiced and gracefully —and somehow that alone made Chance feel like he didn’t deserve to look upon such a sight, like it was a privilege. Pfft, what a silly thought. He shakes off the idea quickly and makes up his mind.
The gambler moves before he can stop himself, brushing down the front of his jacket as he approached. Confidence came easily to him—at least most of the time, but now it was forced into place like a puzzle piece in the wrong spot, held together by curiosity and caffeine and something else he didn’t know or at least didn’t want to acknowledge.
“Hm, so you really do exist.” He says with a small smile as Chance slides into the seat beside him. “I was starting to think you were just gossip.”
The blonde man glances over at his glass at Chance then, slow and deliberate. Up close, his eyes were colder than the photograph. “Should I know you?” the man asked, he asks it in such a bored tone like even putting up with this conversation was draining his energy.
Chance blinks, was this an act? Did he truly not who he was? He looks the man over, there wasn’t any indication of him lying, there was nothing to gain and his dealer had told him he was new to the area so it would make sense. “I’m Chance,” he answered, smooth despite the slight pause. “I own the place.”
There was a beat of silence. No recognition. No spark.
“Mm,” iTrapped murmurs, his eyes scanning him openly. “I wouldn’t have guessed.” There’s no malice behind his voice, as if he was just stating the truth.
Chance feels something under his skin tighten. What the hell? He had half the mind to punch the man, but a short temper would do nothing to fixing that debt of his so he forces a smile on regardless.
“Well, I don’t exactly scream authority,” he jokes instead, laughing lightly. “But I do sign the checks.”
That earned him a flicker of something. Not a smile, though not like he expected something like that from this enigma of a man — it was more unreadable, something that made his skin crawl though he wouldn’t admit it.
“Your ring’s not on tonight.”
The words were dropped casually, but it makes Chance’s eyes widen as the smile on his lips falter. What was he talking about? He blinks in response , caught slightly off guard. “My ring?”
The corner of the man’s lips curl upwards at his words. “I’ve heard the man of the house is known for his golden rings.” His words make Chance pause, he did wear rings, but not very often, only on big nights, but how would this man know? Perhaps, gossip did spread further than he thought. “Yeah,” he said, chuckling as he glanced at his hand. “Tends to get in the way when I’m dealing.”
“You haven’t dealt in weeks,” The man replies, more focused on the glass of wine in front of him. “Not since your father’s funeral.”
The gambler jolts at his words. “W…what did you say?”
There’s a silent pause as the blonde stares at him with an eyebrow raised as he swirls his drink. “Hm? I did not say anything, perhaps the night is getting to you.”
What…?
No, was sure the man had said something, but it wouldn’t make sense. How would he know? Was he truly losing it? What could he even do? He could either confront the man and risk looking crazy or just take it.There was a weight to the blonde’s words that Chance didn’t like or maybe he liked it too much. He wasn’t sure. It made him feel transparent, like he’d already been stripped bare without realizing.
Instead, Chance chuckles to steady himself, fingers toying with the end of his tie. “You’ve got a real quiet way of making people feel seen.” It was almost scary, but Chance didn’t do fear.
“I don’t like noise,” the man says bluntly..
The gambler decides to take a chance to learn more about him, turning to look at him directly. “Is there anything you do like?”
The man met his eyes now—slowly, as if he was savoring the moment. His gaze dipped once, unashamed, before returning to Chance’s face.
“You,” he answered, calm and confident, as if it were a fact and not a flirtation.
Chance’s stomach fluttered—just slightly though was it from the heat in his chest or the sudden rush of surprise, he couldn’t say.
He didn’t reply. Not right away. Instead, he does what he always does when he doesn’t know what to do. He changes the topic, laughing and making a remark on how the man had more humor than he thought, but the man says nothing, just silently stares at him.
Across the room, something pulled at the corner of his vision. A figure, alone in the velvet lounge.
Before he can stop himself, Chance glances toward it—toward him.
The man in the pinstripe suit. Dark tie, glass of something neat resting in his hand. Chance has seen him here before, a few times. Often alone if his ragtag group of men weren’t following, but always watching. He never said much—never said anything, really. Just came and went, and yet—
Tonight, his stare was different.
Not casual. Not curious. Focused.
Chance felt a strange chill creep up his spine, but he shoves it aside. The man had never been a problem before, not much to care about really as the gambler never had spoken to him asides from a quick salute of greeting he does to all his clients. He shouldn’t — couldn’t be a problem now.
He glances away quickly, pretending not to notice. iTrapped follows his gaze, eyebrow poised in a silent question.
“…He’s here often,” Chance mutters aloud, eyes flicking toward the man again. “Never says a word, but… he’s always watching something, don’t know what though. I never saw him look this way though.”
“You think he’s watching me?” iTrapped asked, lips curling into a smirk.
Chance looks back at him, lips parting slightly, what an ego. “I suppose it’s possible, but what could he want?”
The man smiled, slow and subtle. “People watch what they want to keep.”
The words landed heavier than they should have. Chance’s fingers gripping the edge of the bar just a little tighter, as if to ground himself.
“You don’t exactly make it easy to look away,” Chance said, voice lower now, just slightly. He hopes it’s not noticeful.
“You’re not looking away either,” iTrapped replied, leaning in ever so slightly.
The heat between them wasn’t loud, wasn’t obvious—it was careful, intentional, exciting
For a moment, Chance forgot the weight of debt, forgot the pit in his stomach, forgot the way his nights blurred together with no real sleep. For a moment, he felt excited—a game with everything at risk with a worthy player, but the moment quickly disappears when the flash of his nightmares and his ruined room appears in his mind. He couldn’t forget what this all was for.
All of a sudden, the man rose then, smooth and elegant, like he belonged to another time entirely. He adjusted his sleeves with precision before glancing back at Chance.
“I’ll be seeing you again,” He bluntly states, not a question, but a command. “Try not to lose too much sleep over it.”
Chance smirked faintly, still caught between curiosity and confusion. “Don’t fret, I won’t.”
iTrapped tilted his head, eyes narrowing just a touch, a ghost of a smile teasing his lips.
“Good. You wouldn’t want to miss me.” He turns away, moving towards the doors with not a single glance back.
Chance sits back, flicking his coin absently, trying to make sense of what just happened. He was sure his plan was working, he had caught the man’s attention, yet why did it feel as if he was being played too? In the midst of his thoughts, his gaze unconsciously drifts once more toward the lounge.
The man in the suit remained there, unmoving, eyes sharp and unblinking, locked on iTrapped’s fleeting figure.
Chance frowned slightly, confused by the intensity of the stare.
‘He’s watching iTrapped’, Chance thought. That has to be it.
Yet, the sinking feeling in his stomach didn’t settle. A flicker of something deeper — an uneasy tightening in his chest — told him that maybe, just maybe, he was the one being watched.
That thought unsettled him far more than he expected.
Notes:
We’re finally getting to the good stuff~ I’m super excited, thank you guys for the kudos!! It makes me more happy to work on this, knowing you guys enjoyed it too!!!
Also, I’m not quite sure yet how many chapters this will be so if needed, I’ll do more :)) I’m thinking of opening a Forsaken oneshots if you guys are open for it!!
Chapter Text
All Chance wanted tonight was to forget.
He felt hot, head foggy as he threw himself onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. What was going on with me? Every time he closed his eyes, those cold blue eyes were there, staring straight into him.
“Great,” he muttered, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in a satin pillow. Sleep refused to come, so he stayed there, still and miserable, until his phone dinged.
He glanced at the screen and softened at the small pizza sticker beside the name. Elliot. Sweet, dependable Elliot.
< ‘Hey, I hope I’m not bothering you Chance… it’s just I haven’t heard from you in a while. I gotta go now since there’s an order, but call me when you’re free, please?’ >
Oh, Elliot. Always thinking of others with all of that workload, how could he even think of doing this to Elliot? His thumb hovers over the keyboard. What was he supposed to say? That everything was fine? That he’d been ignoring the other in hopes Elliot would leave him? With a sigh, he locked the phone and tossed it aside. Later. I’ll come up with something later.
The doorbell rang.
Chance blinked at the clock. Nearly three in the morning. No one sane would be here at this hour. For a moment, he imagined soft blond hair and that smile that always made his heart race —then shook his head. No. Not him. It couldn’t — shouldnt, no one should see him at his lowest.
He raked a hand through his hair and forced on his signature grin before opening the door.
“…Two Time?”
The figure standing there smiled up at him, shaggy dark hair curling messily around their face.
“Greetings, Chance,” they said with their usual eerie cheer. “I understand this is not the ideal hour, but the Spawn—”
“How did you get past the secu-Ugh you know what never mind.” Chance didn’t let them finish, pulling them inside. “Three in the morning, Two. Whatever this is, it’d better be good.”
They perched on his couch like it was their own. “The Spawn has delivered me a sign. I believe it has led me to where my dear friend disappeared.”
That froze him. “…You’re saying you know where Az—”
“Not yet. I need more information,” Two Time interrupted, their voice unusually serious. “I am worried it’s a misunderstanding. Still, the sign was clear. I need you, Chance. The Spawn thinks you’re essential to the plan.”
Chance smirked, clapping a hand on their shoulder. “The Spawn requires me? This should be fun.”
“There’s an exclusive club on the east side. I heard that Azur…he went there and someone there knows something. We need that intel.”
Chance raised a brow. “So I just stroll in and sweet talk the staff, huh?”
“Yes, but uhm…more unrecognizable.”
“…A mask? Fake beard?”
Two Time shook their head. “No. You’ll be going as someone else entirely. A wealthy, elegant person they can’t ignore…preferably a woman.” The last part is whispered sheepishly.
Chance froze. “…You’re joking. You’re absolutely joking.”
“I’m not.” Two Time gestured toward the duffel bag at his door. “I’ve already prepared the outfit.”
“…You what?”
“You have the figure,” they added, tone painfully matter-of-fact. “And the confidence.”
Chance buried his face in his hands. “What the hell, fine. I’ll play dress-up, get your intel, and then we pretend this night never happened.”
Two Time’s grin somehow widened. “Perfect. You’ll look stunning.”
Notes:
If you guys are wondering whether Chance was thinking of Elliot or iTrapped appearing at his door, well you’ll just have to imagine who he really meant!! >_>
For Chance’s dress….well tbh I don’t know what people wear to the club, but this is a really fancy one so I was thinking of something like this though feel free to use your imagination :33 https://pin.it/1JnB57WOx
Chapter 5: red lips and kisses
Notes:
I felt kind of bad for making the chapters so short :’) soooo I tried making this one longer, I hope you guys like it!! >_<
Mafioso is finally appearing :33
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next night, Chance stared at himself in the bathroom mirror in silence.
His head felt heavy, chest tight, exhaustion sinking into his bones. Sleep hadn’t helped, neither had the liquor. Everything hurt, but he already promised Two Time and he’d be damned if he broke a promise. He wasn’t a coward…right? Pfft, of course he wasn’t. What a silly thought to even have!
Not wanting to think anymore, he splashes water over his face, muttering, “Pull it together, Chance. Just… pull it together.”
This was supposed to be simple—get Two Time’s intel, walk away, pretend it never happened. Yet it felt like he was walking into something far larger than that, and the thought made his stomach twist. Whatever, he needed something new to take his mind off things, a thrill.
He reached for the satin dress draped on the counter. It strangely fit him perfectly, Chance wasn’t quite sure how Two Time got his measurements, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. From there, things went wonky. The dress’s zipper nipped at his fingers, the dark wig sat heavy and unfamiliar on his head, and the eyeliner almost blinded him when he first tried applying it, but soon someone else stared back at him from the mirror. A young woman with dark hair draped over her shoulders sheepishly smiles at him, the dress caressing her figure. This was someone beautiful, poised…unforgettable. Perfect.
“…Damn,” he whispered, forcing a smirk. “I’m kind of hot.”
His eyes fall on the lipstick placed beside the sink. Hm, it would be a nice addition. The gambler picks it up, uncapping it before applying the crimson rouge upon his lips, smearing it across. It felt as if he was acting out his part in a play, but he was doing that basically, wasn’t he?
The last piece of his ensemble, a little purse waited for him by the door, and before he could force himself out of this plan, he slipped into the heels and stepped into the night.
⸻
The club thrummed with muted jazz and expensive laughter. Gilded fixtures gleamed under soft amber light, and the air was thick with perfume and alcohol. Chance walked like he belonged, heels tapping over marble, head high, posture perfect, and desperately trying to ignore the aching pain in his feet with each step from the heels.
The place was nice, nicer than he thought.The gambler was almost surprised he hadn’t come here before, the finances truly had him busy with work. Maybe…if things changed, he would come here sometime.
He settled at the bar and ordered something expensive-sounding that he’d never drink by choice, but he had to seem like he belonged here and begin to look around through the crowd.
That was when he saw it, freezing at the familiar sight of sharp golden hair and cold-cut sapphire eyes.
iTrapped.
Relaxed, pristine, eyes sharp as if he owned the room. And beside him sat the pinstripe-suited man from the casino—, if Chance remembered right. The one who had stared at him far too long that night, but….that couldn’t be?.
iTrapped hadn’t given him any indication they knew each other, playing along with Chance’s musings last night. Maybe he really didn’t know him, but the way he and the pinstriped man were seated close and talked so…casually didn’t seem like the type of relationship to form in less than a day so what was going on?
Chance’s grip on his glass tightened. Even more what the hell were they doing here? Perhaps iTrapped’s words meant more than he thought.
He forced his body still, lashes low as if he hadn’t noticed them at all. Probably nothing. Probably business. Probably just another rich man with rich friends—handsome, powerful, the type who collected people like trophies and dropped them just as easily.
Still, he could feel it—the weight of someone watching him.
When he glanced up, iTrapped’s eyes were already on him. Not the dress. Not the wig. Him. He could practically feel the sweat on his forehead dropping, oh no.
Their gazes locked, and iTrapped smiled, slow and deliberate, before standing with an unhurried grace that drew attention without asking for it. The crowd seemed to part naturally as he crossed the floor.
Chance held his breath. What the hell was he supposed to do? Running away would make him even more suspicious. He takes a deep breath, he was just being paranoid. Surely, he wasn’t coming to him, probably another cute woman behind him. There was definitely no shortage of them in this club.
“You…” Yep, his illusion of the man not noticing him was cut quick as iTrapped’s voice carried over the music, smooth and precise as he stopped near, close enough for Chance to catch the faint sweetness of his cologne. “…remind me of someone.”
Chance blinked, throat dry. “Oh, now do I?” He tries to be sultry, but voice slipped softer than he’d intended, almost cautious. “Someone important to you?”
iTrapped’s eyes swept over his face, deliberate and slow, his smile curving impossibly deeper. “You could say so, I haven’t seen them in a while.”
The blonde didn’t blink, didn’t even look away. His attention felt heavy, focused entirely on him, like the rest of the club had dissolved into silence.
“Guess I’ve just got one of those faces,” Chance said lightly, forcing a small smile and tilting his glass.
iTrapped’s eyes lingered a moment longer, then softened—not warm, but pleasant in a way that made Chance’s pulse stumble. “You are quite beautiful, I suppose you do.” His voice dropped, low enough to feel like it was meant for Chance alone. He pauses like he’s about to add something, but stops before nodding at him.
With that, he stepped back, returning to the VIP area where the strange man sat waiting, silent and unreadable, gaze still on Chance even as iTrapped sat back down.
Chance turned back to his drink, trying to steady his breathing.
Just a rich man flirting with the ladies, he told himself, swirling the liquid in his glass. That’s all. He didn’t know it was Chance, it was just a coincidence, he probably knew many girls from here.
Yet, his racing heart didn’t seem to believe his words and to be truthful, Chance didn’t want to either.
⸻
He waited for a bit, at least until the loud chatter dipped into casual laughter before slipping quietly from the bar. His pulse quickened—not from fear, but from the rush of stepping somewhere he didn’t belong, the thrill he got from the risk.
His heels clicked softly along the side hallway as he moved with deliberate grace, his borrowed figure swaying with a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. This was dangerous, and he liked it.
The office was unmarked, easy to miss, and unlocked, it was almost pathetic. It was like they wanted someone to sneak in. The gambler slid inside, closing the door behind him with care. The room smelled of polished wood and something darker—leather, cigarettes, and cologne— a familiar scent to him yet he couldn’t remember from where.
Chance crouched by the filing cabinets, flipping quickly through membership logs and invoices, his breath quick and shallow. Just a name, a connection, anything that Two Time’s companion could have left behind—
“Ma’am?”
Shit, he had been so focused he hadn’t heard the door freak open. His shoulders stiffened at the voice as he turned around hesitantly. “O-oh, I apologize. I must have lost my way, these hallways are so confusing you know?” His voice sounds painful and squeaky as he laughs airily.
A security guard filled the doorway, tall and built like a wall leaving no escape, arms crossed. “This area isn’t for guests. You’ll have to come with me.”
Shit shit, Two Time would end him if he messed this up. “Oh no, sir I think you got this all wrong—“
“She’s with me.”
The sudden voice was calm, but carried weight if how the guard froze was anything to go by.
From behind the guard stepped the man in the pinstripe suit—the same one who had been sitting with iTrapped, the one whose stare had lingered too long, too focused. His eyes were on Chance now, steady and unreadable, but with a flicker of something else. Something strange.
The guard hesitated. “Sir, she was—”
“Looking for me.” The man’s words were smooth, final. He approached, extending a gloved hand toward Chance. “Isn’t that right, dear?”
The pet name made him want to cringe, but this was the perfect change to escape so Chance eagerly rushes to slip his hand into his before he could think, plastering on a coy smile. “Of course sweetie, I just got lost… you know how I’m terrible with hallways.”
The guard glances between the two of them before receiving a stern look from the man and nods before rushing off.
His grip was firm, confident, pulling Chance subtly closer until there was barely a breath between them. He leaned down, voice dropping to something that felt too close to intimate. “You’ve got a taste for trouble, don’t you?”
Huh? Chance’s heart stuttered, but he tilted his head up, playing into the thrill with a smirk. He could play this game too. “Hm, well maybe I like a little excitement.”
The man’s mouth curved faintly, his eyes sliding over Chance’s face—not in the way he’s seen most people glance ar him, but slower, deliberate, as if memorizing. His hand moved, brushing a loose strand of the wigged hair from Chance’s cheek, fingers grazing just enough to make the air feel heavy.
“You should be careful where you look for it.” His voice was softer now, the kind of quiet that filled every inch of space between them. “You know, not everyone’s as forgiving as I am.”
Chance’s throat felt dry for a moment, though he disguised it with a practiced laugh. “Perhaps I just need the right guide.”
The man’s thumb lingered for a second longer at his jawline before falling away. His eyes stayed locked on Chance’s, unreadable, but too steady. Too sharp. “Maybe you do.”
Then he stepped back, cool and composed once again, gesturing toward the empty office, the security long gone. “You should go while he’s gone, you won’t get a chance like this again.”
Before Chance can say anything, the man walks off leaving the gambler standing alone, heart pounding but face calm, exhilaration thrumming through his veins. This was what he lived for—the risk, the heat of almost being caught, the way his disguise held even under eyes like that.
And yet, as he rushed back into the office, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the man hadn’t been fooled at all.
Notes:
YAYAYA now we’re getting to the actual plot!!!!
For anyone wondering exactly why Chance”s father got in debt, you’ll see soon and it’ll make plenty of sense. Your only hint is that the eyes that have been watching Chance have been watching for far longer than he thought. *_*
Also, this is a random question, but would you guys like to see smut? I haven’t written it before, the closest I was planning to was make it suggestive, but if you guys want it, I’ll try >_> though I won’t lie, it’ll be just Chance getting sandwiched…*_* heh, if you guys do in fact want smut, please choose a pairing