Secrets.

He smiled as he reached one of New York's famous clubs. Kieran wasn't much of a partygoer, but for his first night in the appropriately-dubbed "City That Never Sleeps", he'd make an exception.

Electronic music pulsed from the building, getting louder whenever the doors opened and the bouncer let someone in. This feat did not occur all that often; only those who were either rich, beautiful, or famous were let into the establishment. A line of people stretched down the block outside of the building; for anyone ordinary, it would be nearly impossible to get in tonight.

He smiled wryly. It's a good thing he wasn't ordinary.

He cut the especially long line of wannabee partygoers, making his way to the front. People started to protest, but immediately stopped, losing their train of thought.

"Hey, buddy, you can't do that here," the bouncer said, referring to him cutting the line. He rolled his eyes and motioned for the bouncer to step aside, and shockingly, he obliged. Smirking, he walked through the doors of the club, feeling rather accomplished.

Neon lights flashed around him, and he turned his attention to the dance floor in front of him. A mass of heavily intoxicated males and females were practically having sex with each other to the beat of the music, clearly either unaware of or uncaring towards the presence of nearly a thousand others. He wrinkled his nose in disgust; were people really this tasteless?

Shrugging, he walked over to the bar adjacent to the dance floor. Not in the mood to gyrate on perspective one-night stands, he decided that he’d spend his evening over here.

“Captain and Coke, please,” Kieran said to the bartender. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail, and the paltry amount of makeup she wore only accented her striking features. It was evident that this woman was beautiful.

“Sure thing,” she drawled as she made his drink, her accent revealing that she was a long way from home as well. “And where’re you from, sweet cheeks?”

“England,“ he smirked. Wasn’t it obvious? “And yourself?”

She smiled as she handed him his drink. “Me? I’m from Georgia. My oh my, I’ve never met a British man in person before.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. She wasn’t too intelligent, but he wouldn’t mind seeing that southern belle writhing under him later that night, moaning his name-

“I have to go,” he said suddenly, springing up from his seat at the bar. He left a ten dollar bill on the table, hoping that it would cover the cost of the drink.

I have to stop doing that. If I’m not careful, bad things are going to happen...

“Hey,” she called out. “Come back.”

He shook his head and walked towards the colourful dance floor. He really didn’t mean for that to happen. He fucked up, but he wouldn‘t let it happen again. Besides, she’d forget about him in a few minutes.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw the cute bartender, and he internally began to panic.

“I said to come back.” Her lips turned up in an easy grin, and he could tell that she was romantically interested. “You know, once the night’s over, you should come by my place. I can make you some coffee and show you some southern hospitality...” She bit her lip. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He almost fell for her advances, but he knew he couldn’t take her up on her offer. Sure, she had begun to show interest in the beginning, but now it was artificial. She didn’t know what she wanted, and it was all his fault.

In a moment of weakness, he had let his guard down. He had let his gift spill out by accident, and now he had to use it on purpose. Granted, he had used it before for little things like getting into a club or getting a stranger to hold the elevator. But this time, it was different; now, he was toying around with her mind and rearranging her memories.

He groaned; he had to do this, for he knew it was the right thing to do. So he concentrated on her as he thought.

Forget my face. Forget you ever saw me. Go back to serving drinks. I don’t exist.

Without a word, she turned around and went back to doing her job, and he sighed in relief. He finished off his Captain and Coke and left the glass on a table. Looking around at the drunken mess of people, he glared in envy. Oh, to be powerless and stupid...

Another girl tapped him on the shoulder. This one was brunette and considerably younger; old enough to be an adult, but certainly not old enough to be drinking. But she was drinking anyway, and the margarita in her hand proudly displayed the magic of a fake ID. “Hey, I’m Alyssa. And you are...?”

“Leaving,” he said tersely before she could hit him with the pick-up line she had been planning once she saw the mysteriously sexy man walk in. He walked towards the exit of the club and leaned against the brick exterior.

“Humans are so predictable,” he sighed as he hailed a taxi, The yellow cab began to pull over, and he smiled to himself and furthered his statement.

“Myself included.”