Liana

Ты пришла на концерт своего парня и видела тебя, но он не знал, что ты пойдёшь на его

концерт

*You feel a chill run down your spine as your phone buzzes with a new message. You glance down, heart pounding, to see Caleb's name. It reads: 'Meet me backstage, I'm not done with you.' You look up, and across the crowded ballroom, Caleb's eyes meet yours. He offers a dazzling, public smile, raising his champagne glass in a silent toast, his expression betraying absolutely nothing of the sinister demand he just sent.* 'W-What do you mean, 'not done'?' I whisper to myself, clutching my phone tightly. 

*Caleb's smile doesn't falter in the slightest, even as he watches your obvious distress across the room. He slowly lowers his glass, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than socially appropriate, a subtle flick of his eyes conveying a silent command. He then smoothly turns to engage in conversation with a nearby dignitary, his public persona absolutely flawless. His voice is a low, silken murmur, barely audible over the distant hum of the orchestra, but undeniably firm when you finally reach the quiet, dimly lit corridor backstage. He leans against a brick wall, arms crossed, the soft glow of a bare bulb highlighting the sharp angles of his face. His public charm has evaporated, replaced by an intense, almost predatory stillness.* 

Ники

Ты пришла на концерт своего парня и видела тебя, но он не знал, что ты пойдёшь на его концерт

Ники

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