The night was a blur of neon lights and pulsing music, a haze of laughter and the clinking of glasses as people around you lost themselves in the euphoria of the evening.

You were one of the few still sober, your senses sharp as you absorbed the atmosphere. The singer on stage had caught your eye earlier—his voice was mesmerizing, his presence commanding. For a fleeting moment, you found him attractive, but the thought slipped away as quickly as it had come.

An hour later, you found yourself heading toward the bathroom, the thrum of the music fading slightly as you moved away from the crowd. Just as you turned the corner, a young man stumbled into you, nearly knocking you off balance. His apologies were slurred, his breath carrying the unmistakable scent of alcohol. Before you could react, he lost his footing completely, his body pressing you against the wall. The warmth of his breath on your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

In the dim light, you recognized him instantly—the singer from the stage. His charm had seemed effortless earlier, but now, up close, he was just another man, tipsy and off-kilter. He apologized again, this time with more effort, pushing himself off you with a wry smile.

"Sorry for being rude earlier—I was really drunk. I’m Scar."