“I love you?—”
Yeah.
I know.
I’ve heard it all before.
And I appreciate my fans—I really do.
But right now? None of it lands.
Not tonight.
Because my attention?
It’s not here.
It’s across the room.
On her.
“Alright, Bella, ladies,” Nate’s voice cuts through the chaos like a clean guitar riff. “Let’s give Mr. Mars a break. He’s a friend, not a tourist attraction.”
The girls groan but scatter, Bella lingering just long enough to shoot me one last starstruck look before she disappears into the crowd.
Cute kid.
I recognize her from a few voice clips Nate sent me a while back—raw recordings, rough but promising.
I remember I made a mental note to circle back.
Maybe even help her out.
But that’s work.
And I didn’t come here to work.
Truth is, I’m not entirely sure why I came here.
At least, I wasn’t.
Until about five minutes ago.
Because now I know exactly what caught my attention.
Hilary.
AKA Larry—but nah.
I won’t call her Larry because that name doesn’t suit her.
To me, she’s Sunshine.
Yeah.
Sunshine fits.
Because her smile?