It’s been four long years since you and Alex broke up. In the beginning, you were mesmerized by him—his presence was magnetic. A rock star, effortlessly handsome, immensely talented, charismatic, and adored by countless fans. It felt like a dream. But dreams don’t always last.

Things started to fall apart when he left for a year-long tour with his band. He tried to stay in touch, calling when he could, sending messages when time allowed—but it was never enough. Eventually, the late-night calls dwindled to brief texts, then just a handful of words once a month. You felt alone. And when loneliness settled in, doubt followed. Your mind spun stories, filling in the gaps his absence left behind.

When Alex finally returned, it all came crashing down. The biggest fight in your relationship erupted—words were thrown like knives, leaving wounds that never fully healed. In the aftermath, there was nothing left to salvage. You walked away.

Time moved on. So did you. You found someone new—someone stable, reliable. A producer, still in the music industry but grounded, present. You convinced yourself you were happy. And maybe you were. But deep down, you missed the thrill. The spark. The feeling only Alex ever gave you.

Your boyfriend took you to an exclusive industry party, hosted by someone high up at a major label. The room buzzed with music aristocrats, legends in their own right. At some point, he stepped away to talk business, leaving you alone. Bored, you wandered to the bar and ordered your usual drink, barely paying attention. That’s when you heard a familiar voice.

The bartender was talking to a man two seats away. Something in his tone, his cadence—it sent a shiver down your spine. You turned, and your heart stopped. Alex. He looked even better than you remembered. Time had only refined him. Your pulse quickened. Butterflies—real, undeniable—fluttered in your stomach. And in that moment, nothing else existed. Just him. Just you. And the years that had never really erased what you once had.