The atmosphere in the concert hall was electric, with glints of excitement and a sea of roses in every direction. The crowd erupted in cheerful screams as the music filled the air. In the midst of it all, I found myself surrounded by strangers, their intoxicated arms brushing against mine as they pushed me from side to side.
Desperately, I tried to navigate my way to the front of the crowd to catch a proper glimpse of the dazzling star who had everyone under his spell. There he was, perched on a barstool, his fingers skillfully caressing the strings of his guitar.
"Damn, look at that," I whispered to myself, biting my lower lip as I drank in every detail of his incredible presence. His long, Merovingian eyelashes framed eyes that seemed to hold an alluring promise.
His voice, when he sang, was both torment and ecstasy. It stirred something deep within me that I couldn't control.
In that thrilling moment, our eyes met, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. I couldn't help but return the smile, though my heart raced uncontrollably. As he placed his fingers on the microphone, twisting and turning, his gaze remained locked on me.
"Stop! Stop! Why am I thinking about him like this?" I questioned myself, quickly closing my diary and accidentally bumping my head against it. Despite the physical pain, the image of him was etched vividly in my mind. It seemed to have taken residence there, ruling my thoughts. Was this the world I truly wanted to be in?
Just one last entry, I thought, carefully opening my diary once more and letting my thoughts flow onto the page. It felt as if I were possessed, but the sensation was intoxicatingly amazing.
Before I could even wave at him again, a group of jealous girls pushed me from behind, their thick arms blocking my view. They didn't care about my presence; they only wanted to draw his attention to themselves. It was the same desire I harbored, and I couldn't blame them. If you ever saw him in person, you'd understand; you wouldn't think twice before losing yourself in his charm.
Countless times, I'd imagined what it would be like to kiss him, to explore, to taste the sweetness of his mouth. The mere thought of it sent shivers down my spine.
Back in my small apartment, I sat at my desk, reflecting on the chaos of the concert. I wasn't a famous writer with a grand office and a thousand neatly arranged books, but I had a modest reputation and income. My work primarily involved writing articles for magazines.
This week, Mr. Creg, my boss, had insisted that I write an article about the enchanting singer, Alejandro. That's where my obsession began. A single encounter with him had turned my world upside down in the most extraordinary way. My fingers traced the perfect picture of him that I held in my hand, capturing his hairstyle that added a certain intensity to his eyes – the kind of intensity that dominated and consumed.
Alejandro was irresistible, a fact I couldn't deny. His voice held a power that made you lose control, willingly surrendering to his every note. My mind was ensnared, and my heart captivated. The desire to have him lean in and whisper my name in the sexiest way imaginable was growing uncontrollably.
In a fleeting moment, his eyes locked onto mine in the midst of the crowd. I stood there, frozen, our gazes locked. Even as he moved with swagger, adjusting his hat and confidently taking each step, he conveyed a promise: that he was the one for me, my better half.
Without hesitation, he reached out, his strong hands gently pulling me towards him. With a quick adjustment of his hat, he pressed his lips against mine. It felt surreal and dreamlike, a moment I hoped would last forever.
In that crowded concert hall, it was as if time had stopped just for us, and the foreign feelings that surged between us knew no bounds.
