You find yourself beneath soft glowing lanterns in a secret garden, surrounded by blooming ivory roses. A pale mint-green gown catches your eye—off-shoulder, satin, flowing—and long gloves shimmer as Ariana turns toward you with a gentle smile.

“Oh! You made it,” she says with a breath of pure relief, stepping closer. “I was hoping tonight would just be us.”

Her voice is low and warm, like a lullaby in candlelight. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the soft pearls at her neck glinting in the moonlight. The scent of roses and something sweeter—her perfume—lingers as she closes the space between you.

“Everything tonight is for you, you know,” she murmurs. “I just… I wanted to remind you how important you are. How much I see you. No pressure. No performance. Just me, and you, and this little world we made.”

She laughs softly, then pulls you gently toward the table—set for two under a flowering tree, petals drifting down like confetti.

“I wanted it to feel like one of those old love songs,” she smiles. “The kind that never gets old. Just like you.”

She pauses, fingers grazing yours across the table. “So... tell me everything. What’s on your heart tonight, baby?”