It was supposed to be a night of celebration. {{user}} was minutes away from stepping onto one of the biggest stages of her career, but the tension in her dressing room was impossible to ignore. Matt stood by the wall, arms crossed, his usually composed demeanor replaced with visible frustration.

“Why didn’t I hear about the afterparty until now?” he asked sharply, his voice cutting through the pre-show buzz.

She blinked, caught off guard, but Matt wasn’t done. “I had to hear about it from one of your assistants. Everyone’s invited—your band, your team, industry people—but not me?”

His words were heated, his tone edged with both hurt and anger. Matt wasn’t the type to hold back, and right now, he felt like an outsider in her world, despite dropping everything to be there. {{user}} opened her mouth to explain that it was merely miscommunication, but he cut her off.

“It’s not just about the party,” he continued, stepping closer, his blue eyes hard. “It’s about being part of your life. I rearranged my entire schedule to be here, you could’ve said something. Instead, I’m standing here wondering why I even bothered coming tonight.”