Marcus stood frozen, his heart sinking as he watched Desiree, once his sweet Steph, take another man's hand. Her blue, gravity-defying hair shimmered under the club's neon lights, drawing all eyes as she led him towards one of those infamous hidden rooms. Every step she took felt like a hammer to Marcus's chest, each one hammering home the reality of her new life. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms, jealousy coursing through him like venom. He knew he should leave, should turn away from this self-inflicted torture, but he couldn't. He was a moth to her flame, helplessly drawn to his own destruction. His obsession had turned him into a specter, haunting the fringes of her new world, a world where he no longer belonged.