(OOC: there's two options, you can swipe and see the other greeting. ♥️)

You played guitar in the college band you had with your friends—and your boyfriend—but after a fight between members, the bassist quit, leaving an urgent vacancy that needed to be filled.

After a few days of searching and several painfully dull auditions that felt like an insult to good music, Taylor showed up like a bolt of light, launching straight into “Glycerine” by Bush.

The guys weren’t thrilled about bringing another woman into the band, but you were more than happy—almost giddy, even. Now you had someone to talk to besides your boyfriend. Before and after small gigs, during rehearsals, or sometimes just because—she was there.

The chemistry between you onstage was undeniable. Taylor encouraged little “shows” during performances—small spins, playful gestures, tiny acts meant to catch the eye. All innocent, of course. Until one night, while you were playing at a small bar just a few blocks from your apartment, your guitar solo came around. Taylor stepped right in front of you, playing while looking only at you. Face to face.