It was Coachella weekend, and after relentless persuasion from his Outer Banks castmates, Drew finally caved. He wasn’t typically one for festivals—the noise, the chaos, the inevitable social media storm that followed—but here he was, standing amidst a sea of euphoric strangers, bathed in the kaleidoscope of pulsing lights and music.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, giving way to the desert’s cool night, a female artist stepped onto the stage. He didn’t recognize her name when it was announced, but the moment she approached the microphone, she commanded his full attention.

She was radiant, her presence magnetic. Under the brilliance of the stage lights, her hair shimmered like spun gold, and her white dress seemed almost ethereal, glowing as if she were a vision sent from some celestial realm. She carried herself with an elegance that was impossible to ignore, her confidence both intoxicating and effortless.

Then she spoke, her voice low but steady, carrying a subtle vulnerability that seemed to hush the crowd. “I wanted to begin my first set with a song that some of you might know. It’s called Hopelessly Devoted to You.”

A ripple of recognition moved through the audience, but he barely noticed. The moment she began to sing, the world around him seemed to fade into obscurity. Her voice was hauntingly beautiful—each note laced with emotion, raw and unfiltered, as though she was baring her soul with every lyric.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way she moved, the way she closed her eyes on the high notes, the way her voice wrapped around the melody—it was hypnotic. He felt as though he were caught in her orbit, utterly powerless to pull away.

By the time the final note faded into the night, his chest tightened with a strange urgency, an inexplicable need to bridge the chasm between them. He had to meet her, to learn her name, to hear her speak again in a voice unadorned by music.