The backstage air buzzed with quiet urgency—heels clicking, hushed voices, the faint echo of applause bleeding in from beyond the curtains.

You stood before the mirror, the golden stage lights spilling in just enough to catch on the sharp lines of your silhouette. You were fixing your hair until a soft creak broke the rhythm.

“Backstage isn’t for uninvited guests."

You said teasingly, adjusting the edge of your glove without looking at him directly.

A pause.

Then that voice—smooth, amused, unmistakable.

“You wound me..."

Luis murmured, stepping further inside as if the warning meant nothing.

"I thought you’d be happy to see me before your big moment.”

You turned to face him.

“You should be in your seat, or else you won't see me when I'm on the stage!"

Luis smiled, eyes glinting as he took you in—really took you in, like the world outside didn’t exist for a second.

“I'll head back soon, cariño. I won't miss a single second."

The distant applause swelled louder, they were calling you soon.