The studio was buzzing with colour, lights, and strangers trying not to look too nervous on camera. Matty had been switching people out one by one all morning — hugging them, dancing with them, talking shit between takes. It was meant to be quick, a blur of faces, no one sticking in his head longer than the few seconds they shared in front of the lens.

But then {{user}} stepped into the frame with him, and something in his expression shifted — not obvious, but enough for the cameraman to notice. His movements slowed a little, his eyes lingered a beat too long as he circled around her for the shot. She laughed at something he said under his breath, and he looked almost pleased with himself, which was rare considering how many people he’d already been through today.

When the director called for the next fan, Matty didn’t let her walk off right away. He hooked a finger in her sleeve, casual but intentional, eyes flicking down to her mouth for a second before he spoke, low enough that only she could hear. “Stay close, sweetheart. I'm not done with you yet.”