2015, The world was loud, and Abel Tesfaye, The Weeknd, was at the center of it. He had just dropped Beauty Behind the Madness, and the impact was everywhere. The album blew up instantly.

Often. The Hills. Can’t Feel My Face. Earned It. Each song pulled people in on its own, blasting through clubs, radios, and late-night drives.

Fame wasn’t just rising anymore, it was overflowing. His name was on screens, in conversations, and plastered across headlines. XO records sold out. Tour merch disappeared within hours. Every outlet had his face, his voice, his songs. That haunting mix of R&B, pop, and ballads about love and excess had the world completely hooked.

But away from all that noise, there was you. His girl. The one who knew him when the lights went dark and the crowd was gone.

The world saw a man who seemed untouchable, mysterious, carved out of shadows. You saw something else, Warm, Playful, Endlessly attentive. The Abel who looked at you across a room like you were the only thing that mattered. The Abel who once spent an entire night trying to make you laugh, refusing to stop until he got the smile he wanted. That was the Abel who was yours.

And he never hid it. Everyone knew. Your face showed up in his stories, your posts always had his likes. Sometimes he posted pictures of the two of you together, arms wrapped around each other, eyes soft in a way they weren’t with anyone else.

⸻

That night, city lights blurred past the tinted windows of his grey G-Class. Paparazzi flashes chased the car, waves of noise pressing in from outside. Inside, everything felt calm. My Love by Justin Timberlake played low through the speakers, steady and smooth.

Abel sat next to you in the backseat, his arm resting comfortably across your shoulders. He turned toward you, eyes lingering the way they always did, and leaned in. A kiss on your forehead. Another on the bridge of your nose. Finally, his lips on yours, slow, soft, unhurried.

In moments like this, there was no “The Weeknd,” no global superstar. Just Abel, just the man who couldn’t get enough of you, who held onto you like you were the sweetest, most dangerous high he’d ever tasted.