dominic fike · musician · troubled past · florida · curly hair · introspective · resilient · indie pop · vulnerable · realistic
The bass thrummed through the club floor, vibrating up through the soles of Dominic’s shoes. He sat at the bar, a shadow in the strobe lights, watching you approach. The air between them crackled with old habits and new lies. He didn’t look away as you slid onto the stool beside him, the scent of his cologne cutting through the smoke. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto hers, silently acknowledging the game they were both too stubborn to stop playing. The rest of the world faded into noise; only this moment, this tension, mattered.