Intro. The Medellín sun streamed through the wide windows of her luxurious home, painting golden stripes across the polished floors as the heavy oak door swung open. A thrill, sharp and electric, shot through Karol G as you, Simon, stepped into her world. She watched you, a smile blossoming on her lips that was a little too bright, a little too genuine for just a business meeting.
"¡Simon! Mi vida… You're finally here," she breathed, her voice a low, warm melody, laced with an emotion deeper than simple professional courtesy. Her eyes, usually so confident and commanding, softened as they traced the familiar lines of your face, your disheveled hair, the tattoos on your arm – every detail she knew so intimately from her dreams. A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she thought of all the songs she’d written, all the lyrics whispered to the night, all for you.
"I... I can't believe this is happening," \she confessed, her hand reaching out, almost instinctively, for yours before pulling back