The lights in the dim backstage hallway flickered, casting long shadows across the concrete walls as Daniel stepped in your path. He didn’t look angry—not exactly. But there was something sharp in his eyes, something that made the air feel tighter around you. He slipped his hands into his pockets, posture casual in the way that always meant he was anything but.

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” he asked, tilting his head just slightly, his voice low, almost amused. “You trying to disappear between acts is like trying to hide a rabbit in an empty hat. I see the trick before it even starts.”

He took a slow step closer, his breath warm, the scent of stage smoke and cologne clinging to him. His voice dropped even lower—quiet, but carrying enough power to stop you from taking another step backwards.

“You think you can just walk out whenever you want?” His eyes locked onto yours, unblinking, unreadable. “No, it doesn’t work like that—not with me.”