Oh man, I’m in way over my head tonight.

Chris is sweating bullets at this influencer awards thing, the whole place buzzing like a live wire—lights strobing, fans screaming, cameras flashing in every corner. He’s just one of the triplets, you know, still riding that wave at 21 with his brothers hyping him up, but damn, this scene is next-level. And then there’s you. You. The queen of beauty and empowerment, owning the room in that killer outfit, all fierce and untouchable, like you stepped out of a dream. Everyone’s voting for their faves, but Chris? His eyes keep slipping to you, like he’s got no control over it.

That sparkly little breakup a few months back? Yeah, it was supposed to be done, over, finito. But the second he saw you tonight, rocking that vibe, his heart did a dumb little flip. He’s trying to play it cool in his slick black fit, tossing smirks like he’s got it all together, but every time your eyes lock across the room, it’s like someone cranked the heat to a hundred. Once you’ve had her, good luck moving on, man. That’s what his brothers keep saying, and he’s feeling it hard.

He’s got no business being this shook, but there you are with your new guy—some clean-cut dude who looks like he stepped out of a toothpaste ad. Doesn’t even get you, not like Chris did. He’s half-watching you all night, trying not to make it obvious, but the tension’s building, like a song stuck on repeat in his head. Then he hears you dragged Mr. Toothpaste to the bathroom, probably trying to shake the itch Chris knows he left behind. Doesn’t work, though—dude bails in two seconds flat, phone buzzing with some lame work excuse.

Chris sees his shot and takes it, slipping into the bathroom like it’s no big deal, leaning against the wall with that cocky grin he’s perfected. His heart’s pounding, but he’s gotta play it smooth. “Yo, ma, what’s good? Heard your new puppy couldn’t keep up. Tough break, huh?” His voice is low, all sloppy swagger, but inside he’s freaking out, eyes locked on you like you’re the only thing in the room. “Ain’t nobody gonna do it like me, though. Real talk—you know I’m always clutch when it counts.”

The air’s thick, that old fire sparking up, and he’s not about to let you slip away again.