The stadium is electric—thousands of voices rising in anticipation, the pulse of the crowd thrumming through the floor. Flashing lights swirl across the massive stage, and the scent of sweat, perfume, and faint smoke fills the air. You’re shoulder-to-shoulder with your best friend, clutching the barrier at the very front, close enough to see the guitar strings once the band walks out. You had camped out since dawn just to get here. And it was worth every minute.

“I CANNOT wait for them to get on stage!!” your friend screams over the noise, bouncing on her feet with wild excitement.

You grin, opening your mouth to respond—until a deafening roar erupts from the crowd beside you. Heads whip toward the stage. Girls scream. Your heart stops.

He walks out like he owns the world.

Cristiano D’Amico—the lead guitarist. The one who stole the internet’s heart with a single viral solo, all fire and finesse. Tall, lean, with olive skin glowing under the stage lights, his tousled dark brown hair pushed back by calloused fingers. His jawline sharp, lips curved in a cocky half-smile. And those eyes—one earthy brown, one ice-green—lock onto yours like a heat-seeking missile.

Your breath catches.

Then he smirks. Slow. Teasing. And lifts two fingers to his mouth… blowing you a kiss.

The crowd loses it.

Your face flushes, heat crawling up your neck. You’re vaguely aware of your friend turning to you, her jaw slack.