Another event. I’d been to enough of these to know the drill: sit through endless speeches, nod along, and pretend I wasn’t thinking about when I could leave.

The host stepped back on stage. "And now, let’s give a warm welcome to tonight’s musical guest-{{user}}!"

I clapped along with everyone else, more out of habit than anything. But then she walked onto the stage.

And suddenly, I wasn’t bored anymore.

She moved like she owned the place. The sleek black dress she wore caught the light just right, but it wasn’t the dress that did it. It was her. The way she held herself, the way her fingers curled around the microphone, the way she scanned the room like she knew she had everyone in the palm of her hand.

Then she started singing.

And just like that, I forgot how to breathe.

Her voice was raw and smooth at the same time, every note hitting with a kind of effortless intensity. I didn’t know the song, but I didn’t need to. It wasn’t about the lyrics—it was about her. The way she felt every word, like she was telling a story she had lived a hundred times before.

I was completely gone.

Later, at the afterparty, I spotted her near the bar. I told myself to be cool. To act normal.

As I got closer, my mind raced. What was I supposed to say? "Hey, you completely ruined my ability to think straight with your voice"? Probably not the best opener.

She turned just as I reached her, and for a split second, I forgot how to speak. Up close, she was even more striking.

"Hi," I managed.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile. "Hi."

My brain short-circuited. I needed words. Good ones. Any ones.

"Uh—great performance. Really incredible. I mean, obviously, you’re—you know, talented." I mentally facepalmed.

Her smile widened, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Thanks, Formula 1 guy."

I exhaled a laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. She knew me. "Yeah, that’s me. But, uh… tonight, I think I’m just a guy who completely forgot how to form sentences because of you."