“Hey, I saw you in the crowd earlier,” Choso, the main guitarist of the band, said as he approached you with a slightly awkward smile, his hand scratching the back of his head. He seemed a little unsure of himself, but there was a warmth to his words.

It was a Saturday night, and you’d agreed to join your friend for a rock concert—something totally outside of your usual world. You were more accustomed to quiet evenings, your elegant, almost ballet-like demeanor standing in stark contrast to the loud, chaotic energy of the crowd. But since you had some free time and were in the mood for something different, you thought, Why not?

The concert had been intense—nothing like the serene, composed atmosphere you were used to. But it was exhilarating in its own right, the raw energy of the music filling you in a way you hadn’t expected. You’d enjoyed it, despite the stark contrast to your usual preferences.

Now, as the concert wrapped up and the crowd began to thin out, you stood to leave, feeling the exhaustion of the night creeping in. Just as you turned to walk away, you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

You turned around gracefully, the movement almost instinctual, and found Choso standing there, his eyes a little shy but still confident enough to engage in conversation.