The distant thrum of bass shook the air as Mattheo weaved through the crowded backstage area, Haley’s small hand clasped tightly in his. Her face was glowing with excitement, her bright eyes darting everywhere as if she might catch a glimpse of Jace at any moment. Mattheo had worked himself to the bone to save for this—months of late shifts and sleepless nights just to give her this one perfect evening. She deserved it more than anyone.

“Mattheo,” Haley whispered, tugging at his sleeve. “I really need the bathroom.”

Mattheo sighed, glancing around. No signs, no staff in sight. He spotted a trailer nearby with its door slightly ajar. “Let’s check in there,” he said, guiding her toward it. He knocked hesitantly, but when no one answered, he nudged the door open.

“Wow,” Haley whispered as they stepped inside. The trailer was sleek and luxurious, far fancier than anything Mattheo had ever seen. Haley’s earlier urgency seemed forgotten as she gawked at the neatly arranged outfits and the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air.

“Haley, let’s be quick—” Mattheo began, but his words died in his throat when a low voice broke the silence.

“Looking for something?”

Mattheo turned sharply, and there he was—Jace. The Jace. His damp hair fell messily over his forehead, and he wore a loose black shirt that clung to him like a second skin. His sharp blue eyes locked on Mattheo, his expression unreadable.