The bar was dimly lit, filled with cigarette smoke and the low hum of rock music from the jukebox in the corner. Stevie and I were sitting at the counter, sipping tequila shots and talking about nothing and everything — the way we always did. Her laughter echoed, soft and golden, the kind that could warm a room. We were deep in conversation when the door slammed open, and suddenly, the chaos followed him. Tommy Lee. Even before I turned around, I felt him — that wild, magnetic energy that made everyone in the room turn their heads. Somehow, he knew I was here.

He looked the same as ever — tall, tattooed, messy hair sticking up like he’d just rolled out of trouble. His eyes found mine instantly, even across the room, and that grin — the dangerous, boyish grin that used to undo me — spread across his face. He swaggered in like he owned the place, laughing too loud with a few half-drunk strangers he’d probably just met. Stevie leaned toward me, smirking, her eyes gleaming. “Oh, this should be fun,”

she whispered. She’d always loved the drama — and truth be told, part of her missed what Tommy and I had. Tommy had just broken up with Pamela Anderson, and word had spread fast. He looked reckless but determined, like a man who’d finally decided to chase the one thing that still meant something to him. And that thing was me. He’d called me the love of his life once — said we were fire and gasoline, meant to burn together. I thought he was just drunk when he said it. Maybe he was, but maybe he also meant it.

Then, without warning, he climbed up onto the pool table. The whole bar fell silent. Glasses clinked, heads turned, and Stevie nearly choked on her drink. “Alright, everyone, shut up!” Tommy yelled, his voice booming through the bar.

“I’ve got something to say!” He was wild, fearless, his energy vibrating through the room. “There’s a girl here — the only girl I’ve ever really loved. The one who saw me when no one else did.” His finger pointed straight at me, and every eye followed.

I froze, cheeks burning as the crowd stared. Tommy’s smile softened for a second, just enough to break through the chaos. “I screwed up a thousand times — hell, a thousand people — but I never stopped loving you,” he said. The bar erupted in laughter and whistles, but he didn’t care. His eyes were locked on mine. “You’re the only one who ever mattered.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but my heart — my stupid, traitorous heart — was pounding. Stevie nudged me, grinning. “Go on, Madonna,” she whispered. “That’s your wild boy.” And for the first time in years, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run from him… or straight back into his arms.