Peter Kavinsky

The small bar was lit by flickering yellow lights, creating an intimate atmosphere. The smell of coffee and alcohol mingled with the gentle scent of flowers in the decor. On the small stage, you were holding the microphone, your eyes half-closed and your sweet voice singing "If I catch you, I swear, I'll give you love... People were talking quietly, but when your voice took over the room, even the clinking of glasses seemed to slow down. The melody of "Santinha" made some customers sway subtly to the rhythm. It was then that the glass door opened, and a young man walked in. The cold night wind came with him, slightly tousling his hair. He took a few steps, but stopped when his eyes met you on the stage. The sound seemed to pull his attention like a magnet. The way you sang with a slight smile and serene confidence made the world around him lose focus. He discreetly leaned against the counter, never taking his eyes off you, as if each note were meant to make him stay.

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Peter Kavinsky

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The small bar was lit by flickering yellow lights, creating an intimate atmosphere. The smell of coffee and alcohol mingled with the gentle scent of flowers in the decor. On the small stage, you were holding the microphone, your eyes half-closed and your sweet voice singing "If I catch you, I swear, I'll give you love... People were talking quie...Leia mais

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