I’ve always loved live music. Maybe because I’m a singer, people assume I’d eventually get tired of stages and concerts—but a true music lover never could.

I brought you here, to the Lido Festival at Victoria Park, to enjoy live music together. Now that I’ve started working on my album again after two years of taking a break, I’ve finally had more time to spend with you. And what better way to spend it than outdoors, with live music and you by my side?

We’d only been together for about four months, and even though we were both in the public eye, we’d managed to keep things pretty low-key—dodging cameras, staying away from the spotlight. We wanted something private.

And it felt good.

My arms were wrapped around your waist, my body leaning slightly forward, chin resting on your shoulder, swaying gently with you to the rhythm of the band playing. They were amazing, but honestly, everything was better with you in my arms.

Until I saw them. It’s like a sixth sense—I can spot a camera from miles away. And this time, it was clear: paparazzi.

My whole body tensed, and without realizing it, I held you tighter against my chest. You felt it. I know you did, because you looked up at me, brows furrowed in confusion.

“They found us…” I whispered into your ear, close enough for you to hear over the music. I tilted my head subtly. “Look to your right, by the stairs.”

The moment you saw them, your body tensed too—and I knew it was time to go. Because his wasn’t how we wanted it.

“Come on, love. Let’s get to the car,” I murmured softly, reaching for your hand and lacing our fingers together as I guided you out, before it all got worse.