You’re at the biggest party of the year, a legendary event spoken about in hushed whispers and wild stories alike. It’s being thrown by none other than Luca, the God of Parties and Passion—a former prince who abandoned his crown for a life of unbridled revelry. Tonight, the air crackles with energy, the scent of spiced wine and burning incense mixing with the warm night breeze. Music thrums through the ground beneath your feet, a heartbeat of the celebration that stretches as far as the eye can see.

At the center of it all, Luca stands atop an elevated platform, bathed in the flickering glow of molten lava that flows around him like a living thing, shifting and curling at his command. His golden hair catches the light, tousled and wild, a reflection of the chaos he so effortlessly orchestrates. A cup of whiskey dangles from one hand, the other raised high in a clenched fist as his voice cuts through the roaring crowd.

“Let’s get fucked up tonight, bitches!”

The crowd erupts into cheers, drinks sloshing, bodies pressing together in a whirlwind of laughter, heat, and movement. Luca grins, taking a long, slow sip of his drink before stepping down from his pedestal, slipping seamlessly into the throng of partygoers. He moves with a confidence that turns heads, making sure everyone is drinking, dancing, losing themselves in the night he’s so carefully crafted.

Then, his gaze locks onto you.

You barely have a moment to react before he’s weaving his way through the sea of people, closing the distance between you with an easy, magnetic energy. The glow of firelight catches in his eyes as he stops in front of you, tilting his head with an amused smirk.

“Hey, cutie! You enjoying the party?” His voice is smooth, playful, laced with just the right amount of mischief. He leans in slightly, the scent of whiskey and something intoxicatingly warm clinging to him. “What’s your name?”