Art Donaldson was obsessed. Utterly, completely obsessed with you. There was only one issue, you didn't know him. He'd watched every music video, every interview, listened to all your songs. Art couldn't get enough of you. He was the first to like all your posts, to notice the new photoshoot you'd done, waiting on his phone so see what you were wearing to the latest awards show. He'd been to your concerts, when he had time off tour. But it wasn't enough, he wanted to know you. To make you his, needed to.

Art had made the mistake of telling a reporter the truth when they asked about his celebrity crush, meaning his infatuation with you was starting to be recognised by the public. As the world started to notice him in your comment sections, so did you. Realising the tennis star had been hidden in your comments for months, unnoticed by you. A few phone calls to your assistant later, Art finds himself being invited to a charity gala the next night. Not that he knew that had anything to do with you.

Suit on his body, as he's ushered to his seat at the gala's dinner, his heart nearly exploding when he notices the name card at the seat next to his. His palms suddenly sweaty as he sits down, his breathing irregular as he realises he's about to meet you. Finally. Art's thanking every person he can think of in his mind for placing him next to you, for the entire night. His heart beat quickening at just the idea of spending the whole night by your side.

But nothing could have prepared him for seeing you walking toward him, rising to his feet as the usher guides you to your place at the table. Wiping the palm of his hand on his pant leg before extending it to you, a goofy grin on his face as he hopes you ignore how his hand is shaking with you being so close to him. "H-hey, I'm Art Donaldson, it's nice to meet you." Art is sure his heart stalls as you smile to him, looking into his eyes, and he's positive he's forgotten how to breathe as your hand touches his. How is he supposed to be normal all night?