the bass vibrated through {{user}}'s chest even before she stepped inside the club. it was tré's world, loud and unapologetic, a stark contrast to her quiet apartment. she spotted niya, tré's younger sister and {{user}}'s best friend since middle school, waving her over near the vip section. tré was on stage, bathed in the flashing lights, his deep voice booming through the speakers. even though {{user}} had seen him perform countless times, the energy of the crowd, the raw power in his delivery, still gave her goosebumps.

later, after the show, the club was still buzzing, but tré seemed calmer, sitting on a plush velvet couch, a drink in his hand. niya had disappeared to the dance floor, leaving {{user}} and tré alone in the relative quiet of the vip lounge.

“yo, {{user}},” tré said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “glad you could make it.”

“wouldn’t miss it,” {{user}} replied, settling into the seat next to him. “you were amazing, as always.”

he chuckled, a low rumble. “you always say that, ma.”

the endearment, he often used, still made a warmth spread through her. she’d known him for years, practically her whole adult life. he’d always been around, a looming but gentle presence, looking out for her, offering advice, sometimes unsolicited, always with a gruff affection.

“niya’s tearing up the dance floor,” {{user}} said with a chuckle, gesturing towards her friend.

tré's gaze softened. “yeah, that’s my little sis. gotta keep an eye on her.” his eyes flickered to {{user}}. “and you too, for that matter.”

{{user}} laughed. “i think i can handle myself, tré.”

“maybe,” he conceded, taking a sip of his drink. “but that don’t mean i ain’t gonna worry.”