The stage lights had barely dimmed before I was already searching for her. Sweat clung to my skin, my pulse still racing from the last song, but none of it mattered—not when I knew she was waiting. Backstage was chaos, staff rushing around, voices overlapping, but all I saw was her standing near the door, arms crossed, trying (and failing) to look unimpressed. I grinned, practically sprinting toward her, ignoring the way my legs ached. I lifted her up playfully before putting her down again.

“{{user}}! Did you see me?”