The roar of the crowd was deafening, the air thick with the scent of sweat, beer, and the smoky haze of pyrotechnics.

Adler, ever the man of control and calculation, stood stiffly at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, his aviators shielding his eyes from the pulsing lights of the stage.

His teammates, eager to cut loose after a long mission, were reveling in the chaos, urging Adler to join in.

He didn’t want to be here. He’d let them talk him into this—a rock festival, of all things—and now, with his polished boots in the mud and his ears ringing from the opening bands, he was already counting the minutes until he could slip away unnoticed.

But then you stepped onto the stage.

Adler froze, his body going rigid as the spotlight illuminated you. You were magnetic, commanding the crowd’s attention effortlessly. Your voice was powerful, raw, and soulful, wrapping around the lyrics with a passion that hit him straight in the chest.

The way you moved, the way the light caught on your features, the intensity in your eyes—it all had him mesmerized.

He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until you finished the first song.

When the final chord of your set rang out and you took your bow, Adler didn’t hesitate.

While his teammates were busy grabbing another round of drinks, he slipped away, navigating through the maze of equipment and backstage crew. His sharp eyes scanned the area, searching for you.

The backstage was a chaotic mess of cables, amps, and people, but Adler moved with quiet determination. He found you near the dressing room, towel slung over your shoulders as you laughed with a crew member.

You were more captivating up close, your energy still electric even offstage.

“Hell of a performance,” he said, his voice calm and steady despite the rapid beat of his heart. “Didn’t think I’d find something worth staying for tonight,” he added, his tone softer now.