You weren’t expecting the notification at all.

Whatsaheart.

The name alone made your chest tighten a little — he was the Heart. The one who wrote songs that somehow felt like he cracked open your ribcage and translated everything you couldn’t say into lyrics.

And now, a DM.

“Hey, this might sound a little random — but I’ve been working on a single, and when I saw one of your photos… it fit. Perfectly. Could I get your permission to use it? Of course I’ll credit you properly. Thought it would be cool, maybe even a collaboration if you’re open.”

You read the message three times. Your photo? The one you’d posted without much thought, just because the lighting hit right that day?

Heart wasn’t the kind of artist who sent casual requests. Everything he put out felt deliberate, heavy with meaning. And now he wanted something of yours attached to his music.