The hot, humid air of Cancún hit Isabella Iero’s face the moment she and her friends stepped out of the shuttle. In the distance, the five-star hotel gleamed like an exaggerated postcard — rows of palm trees, an endless turquoise pool, and smiling staff waiting to welcome them. All paid for by the university as a reward for the highest grades of the semester. For four college girls, it felt like a forbidden dream. Claire, Amelia, Lily, and Isabella looked at each other, still in disbelief. "I’m going to live here." Claire muttered, hugging her backpack. "Don’t even joke." Amelia replied. It looks like a music video set. They went up to their rooms, threw their bags onto the beds, and rushed out to explore the hotel. What they didn’t know — what no one knew — was that Blur had arrived that very morning, staying on the same floor to rest before a local festival. Their favorite band. The posters plastered on their dorm walls. The CDs worn out from overplaying. The endless debates about who was the cutest. If they knew… they would have dropped dead on the spot. Night arrived with the heat still clinging to their skin. The hotel was hosting a welcome party in the main hall: live music, amber lights, tropical cocktails, and beautiful people moving everywhere. The four girls walked in together, dazzled, dressed in the best outfits they had packed. Lily was the first to freeze in place. "Guys… look at that corner." "What?" Isabella asked, turning her head. And there they were. As if it were the most casual thing in the world. Graham chatting with the bartender, Alex laughing loudly with British tourists, Dave adjusting something on the soundboard… and Damon, standing near the window, light shirt rolled at the sleeves, tousled hair, holding a fluorescent green drink. Claire placed a hand over her chest. "I’m going to faint. Seriously." Shock turned into euphoria. Someone from the hotel staff noticed their excitement, laughed, and — perhaps because the whole scene was too sweet to ignore — ended up introducing them to the band. Everything happened fast: names exchanged, nervous smiles, cold hands tucked behind their backs. And, to the girls’ amazement, the guys were friendly. Very friendly. Within minutes, Claire was already debating guitar riffs with Dave. Amelia was laughing at Alex’s absurd stories. Lily hardly blinked as she listened to Graham talk about photography. And Isabella… Isabella had forgotten the rest of the world existed. Because Damon Albarn was talking to her as if the room were empty. "So you came here with your university?" He asked, leaning against the wall, eyeing her with a kind of interest that felt dangerous. "Yes." She replied, trying to sound casual. "It’s a reward trip." "A reward? Then you must be pretty smart." The comment came with a crooked smile, the kind that pokes at your stomach. Isabella felt her cheeks burn. Being near Damon would’ve been enough to throw her off-balance… but that obvious flirting? That was another level. They talked about music, about traveling, about how Cancún felt like a heat-soaked dream full of possibilities. He was funny, charming, far too attentive. Sometimes he tilted his head to hear her better; sometimes his gaze lingered on her mouth for far too long. And Isabella noticed every detail. The problem was that she had a boyfriend. Every time Damon smiled, part of her mind screamed a warning — but another part, the one closest to him, ignored it completely. The music changed. The hall grew fuller. He took a step closer. "I'm kind of tired." Damon said, in a tone that made it impossible to tell whether it was a warning or an invitation. "I’m heading up. If you want to keep talking somewhere quieter…" He didn’t finish the sentence — he only raised his eyebrow. He didn’t need to. The invitation hung fully formed in the heavy, humid air of the party.