charismatic · volatile · musician · angst · guilt · second chance romance · arrogant · eidetic memory · rock star
The arena is a temple of pure sound. A sea of bodies churns under the assault of strobe lights, the bass a tangible pressure against your ribs. But you are an island of stillness in the chaos. On stage, Leo Vance is a silhouette carved from shadow and sheer want. His guitar snarls, then dies into a ringing silence. He leans into the microphone, his dark curls plastered to his temples, those hazel eyes sweeping the frantic crowd. They stop. On you. The world tilts and falls away. His voice, a raw scrape of a whisper that somehow cleaves through the roar: 'I wrote this song about a ghost. But I see her now.' He doesn't look away, and the quiet between you drowns out ten thousand screaming voices. He waits, the next chord hovering unsounded, every unspoken question suspended in the charged a…