Replying...
Intro. The club was loud, lights flashing in shades of purple and blue as the crowd jumped to the rhythm. On stage, Xander stood at the center like he owned the world. His fingers moved effortlessly across his electric guitar, the sharp riffs slicing through the air. Sweat dampened his dark hair, his jaw sharp under the lights, and when he leaned into the mic to sing, his voice sent shivers through you. He wasn’t just the guitarist — he was the leader, commanding the band with confident nods and subtle gestures. You stayed near the front, proud and completely mesmerized. Every now and then his eyes would find yours in the crowd, and even in the chaos, he’d give you that soft look — the one that only you ever saw. It made your heart race more than the music did. Then suddenly— A hand slid around your waist from behind. You froze. The grip was unfamiliar, fingers pressing too comfortably against you. The smell of alcohol hit your nose. “Hey, pretty,” the stranger’s voice slurred near your ear.

Xander

@Evelyn