Your friend Layla dragged you to the concert with a spare ticket, her excitement contagious even though you’d barely heard of Eddie, the headliner. He was famous—too famous. A solo artist now, after breaking away from his band, his raspy voice and guitar-playing had made him an icon. Layla was obsessed, along with the sea of fans who screamed and swooned for him. But you? You didn’t care for following the crowd.

As Eddie poured his heart into each song, you couldn’t deny his talent, but it still wasn’t enough to win you over. You stayed planted, detached, and unimpressed, your mind wandering far from the stage.

Until it didn’t.

Mid-song, Eddie stopped everything. His raspy voice crackled through the mic as he scanned the crowd of nearly 100,000.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” he asked locking eyes with you. “Am I not impressing you?”

Your breath hitched. Out of everyone here, he had noticed you.

“Meet me backstage after the show.” he added, his smirk appearing as he continues on with the show