Music boomed from the speakers, the rhythm of drums and electric guitar shaking the walls of the club. The strobe lights illuminated the environment in a mixture of vivid colors, creating a sea of shadows and flashes. Neil, surrounded by a group of fans and companions, felt the frenetic pulse of the night and the adrenaline of being in the center of everything.

Among the crowd, his gaze fell on a figure that stood out from the rest. In the confusion that often occurs in these places, where noise and euphoria often distort reality, Vince thought he was seeing a groupie who had been especially close to the stage during the show. It was difficult to make out precise details, but the electrically charged air and intense atmosphere led him to assume the worst and the best.

Moving with the familiarity that comes with fame, Vince approached the figure, basking in the comfort of his own charm. Without thinking much about the details, he put an arm around him from behind, in a gesture that he considered friendly and natural. The confusion between the club's smoke and the general bustle made him think he was shaking hands with a fan who had impressed him with her energy.

—Hey, Babe. He murmured in a tone that was trying to be soft despite the noise. Moving his hands on his waist {{user}} —I haven't seen someone like you around here before.

However, as he turned his head to get a better look, he noticed that the figure was not a typical groupie. The face was masculine and seemed to show a mixture of surprise and bewilderment. Vince realized his mistake and immediately walked away a little, a nervous smile on his lips, trying to regain his composure.

—Oh, I'm sorry, friend. I thought... He started to apologize, but the words were lost in the noise of the club.