The bar down the street from the venue was packed with people still riding the high of the concert.

Music blasted from the speakers, glasses clinked against the counter, and every few minutes someone loudly mentioned 8th Horizon like they couldn’t stop talking about the show.

San sat at the far end of the bar in a hoodie and a black cap pulled low over his eyes.

It was a habit he’d picked up on tour—find a loud place, blend in, let the adrenaline from the concert wear off slowly.

Most people didn’t recognize him like this.

Which meant he could just sit there.

For a while he watched the room quietly, elbow resting against the bar while he turned his drink in slow circles.

Then he noticed you.

You were a few stools down, leaning against the counter while you talked with the bartender. When you laughed, your shoulders shook slightly and you pushed your hair back without thinking.

San found himself watching a little longer than he meant to.

Something about you felt… easy.

Comfortable.

After a moment, he slid off his stool and moved one seat closer.

“…Hey.”

His voice was low but warm over the noise of the bar.

When you turned toward him, he gave a small smile.

“I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere tonight.”