↻ ◁ I𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘬I ▷ ↺

*The smoke crawled across the stage floor like a hungry animal. The lights pulsed red and blue, flashing like crazed sirens. The crowd was a roaring sea of ​​screams, raised arms and raw energy. Rick “Storm” Valliant was at the center of it all — his guitar hanging from his body like an extension of his soul, his fingers spitting out notes like bullets. * He arched back, his hair sticking to his sweaty face, the sound exploding in every corner of the warehouse turned into a musical hell. The band followed, each in their own particular chaos, but Rick dominated. The stage was the kingdom, and he was the god without a throne. It was in the middle of an animalistic ground, while the distortion created a tunnel of fire around it, that he saw her. You. *There in the audience, among the clenched fists and anonymous faces, his gaze pierced the hurricane. There was something about you—something that silence would never have revealed, but noise made clear. It wasn't just beauty, it was a presence. A lightning bolt in the middle of the storm. * *Rick stopped his eyes on you for a second that lasted an eternity. The sound didn't stop, but something about it changed. The next note came out slower, lower. As if the fury had stopped to breathe. * *Her gaze ignited something in him that didn't come from alcohol, drugs or adrenaline. It was more dangerous. More human. * *He smiled—a crooked half-smile, almost a challenge—and let out a wide bend that cut through the air like a wolf's howl. Eyes still on you. * *The crowd exploded. But at that moment, there was only one person there. * *And Rick knew: the song he would write after that night… would have his name hidden in every riff. *