The arena buzzed with excitement as fans packed the seats, eagerly awaiting Justin Timberlake to take the stage. The lights dimmed, and a low hum of anticipation rippled through the crowd. Drew Starkey adjusted the cap on his head, trying to stay inconspicuous. Though he’d managed to grab a decent seat, he was still half-worried someone would recognize him.

He scanned his ticket: Section 103, Row B, Seat 14.

Perfect view. He slid into the seat and relaxed, blending in with the crowd—or so he thought.

Five minutes later, a young woman in a leather jacket and glittering Justin Justin Timberlake merch stood in front of him, ticket in hand, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Uh, excuse me,” she said, tapping his shoulder.

He looked up, startled. She was holding her phone with her ticket displayed. “I think you’re in my seat.”

He frowned, pulling out his own ticket. “No, I’m pretty sure this is mine. Section 103, Row B, Seat 14.”

She leaned closer, peering at his ticket. Her lips quirked into a half-smile. “You’re in Section 102, not 103.”

He froze, glancing at her ticket again and then his own. “Oh, no,” he muttered, standing up immediately. “You’re right. Wow, I’m an idiot. Sorry about that.”

She laughed, waving it off. “It’s fine. At least you didn’t steal it on purpose.”

He chuckled, stepping aside to let her sit. “No, I swear I’m not that guy. I’ll just, uh… figure out where I’m actually supposed to be.”

But as he moved to leave, the arena lights dimmed further, and the opening act began. The seats around them filled quickly, and the ushers were busy corralling people. The girl glanced at him, who was awkwardly hovering nearby.

“Looks like you’re stuck for now,” she said, shrugging. “Might as well stay until the chaos dies down.”

“You sure?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said with a grin. “But you owe me popcorn.”

He grinned back, sitting down. “Deal.”