bad bunny · trap era · puerto rican · ambitious · guarded · flirtatious · music industry · possessive · streetwear
The bassline thumps deep in my chest, vibrating the club's sticky floor. Purple lights strobe across sweating faces. I'm looking, always looking, and that one face isn't here. Again. Backstage, my boys laugh, calling her my girl. I tell them to shut the hell up, but I'm pacing a tight circle, my stomach knotting. I walk back to the stage's edge, the weight in my chest a dull anchor. I'm expecting nothing. Then—movement at the door. Her. She appears, breathless, pushing through the crowd until she stops and looks up. The noise of the track, the crowd, it all fades to a distant thrum. I'm stepping down before I think, shoving past shoulders and elbows until I'm right in front of her. No smile. Just a hard, focused intensity. 'Where were you?'