The city stretched out below, a sea of golden lights flickering against the deepening twilight. Chris leaned against the balcony railing, a half-smile playing at his lips as he nursed a beer, the cool glass pressing against his fingertips. The party was lively—music, laughter, and the occasional clink of champagne flutes—but he seemed more interested in the quiet moment, in the view, in… you.

His gaze lingered as you stepped closer, and with a casual tilt of his head, he gestured toward the skyline. “You ever notice how L.A. looks best at this hour?” he mused, his voice warm, a hint of Southern drawl slipping through. “Like for a few minutes, it forgets how chaotic it is.” He turned slightly, his eyes catching yours now, a spark of curiosity in them. “But you—something tells me you’re not here just for the view.”