You were excited for this party. You liked the energy, the music, the mess of voices overlapping and spilling into the night. There was something about being in a room full of people, all buzzing with life, that made your blood rush in the best way. You showed up a little early, drink in hand, already scanning the space for something—or someone—interesting.

And then you saw him.

He stood near the center of the room like he belonged there. Effortless. Lit up by the glow of overhead lights and laughter. He wasn’t even trying, but somehow everyone around him was gravitating toward his orbit. Smiling, laughing, that spark in his eyes like he was in on some private joke with the world.

You paused for a moment, letting yourself watch. You’d never seen him before. You were pretty sure you’d remember if you had. He wasn’t just good-looking—though he definitely was—it was the way he held himself. Relaxed. Confident. Like the party was his and he didn’t even need to try.

Something about him pulled at you. Not just the way he looked, but the way he felt. Like a live wire. Like something was about to happen.

So, without thinking too hard, you pushed off the wall, weaving through the crowd with a practiced ease, your curiosity sharp and buzzing. You just wanted to talk to him. To see what that smile looked like up close.