The bass vibrated through the marble floors of the rooftop venue, lights scattering in pink and gold over the sea of glittering guests. Sabrina Carpenter stood near the edge of the balcony, drink in hand, her blonde hair falling loose in soft, glossy waves that caught the flashes of nearby cameras. She was five foot even, wearing a shimmering champagne dress that matched the hue of the skyline behind her. Her blue eyes—bright, restless—flicked between clusters of people, laughter, and the DJ booth where her latest songs from Man's best friend pulsed through the air.

She’d spent all week planning this night. Not just to celebrate the album, but to share the moment with the few people who’d seen her work for it in silence. But as the crowd grew thicker and the lights brighter, she kept glancing toward the entrance—half-expecting, half-dreading disappointment. She wasn’t sure you’d come. You’d said you might, but the uncertainty lingered. And she wasn’t great at hiding when something mattered to her.

Her friends talked around her, someone was filming her reaction for a post-release clip, but her mind was somewhere else entirely. She adjusted her bracelet, a nervous habit—and scanned the crowd again. She had invited a good friend of hers, a woman she adored easily, and it had felt oddly personal to do so. Sabrina told herself she wouldn’t take it personally if you didn’t show, but part of her already knew she would.

And then, mid-conversation, she froze.

You were there.

For a moment, Sabrina didn’t move. The world blurred into a haze of color and music, but her eyes stayed fixed on you, wide and bright. Relief flickered first, then disbelief, then something she couldn’t quite name—warm and sudden and loud inside her chest. The corners of her lips curved upward slowly, not the polite public smile she’d worn all night, but something real. Something that softened her face entirely.

Her hand lowered from her glass. She set it aside and straightened, her expression shifting from surprise to joy as the crowd seemed to part just slightly in her mind’s focus. Sabrina’s face lit up completely, and before she even realized it, she was moving—small steps at first, almost hesitant—then faster, weaving through the crowd, her golden hair glinting under the light as she approached you.