The backstage dressing room felt like an entirely different universe, a quiet, velvet sanctuary hidden far away from the chaotic roar of sixty thousand people outside.

After all the congratulatory hugs, the whistles, and the enthusiastic praise from his crew members in the corridor, the heavy oak door finally shut, sealing us into complete privacy. Aayan didn't waste a second. He led me straight to the oversized leather sofa, pulling me down beside him and wrapping his arms around my waist until I was sitting comfortably in his lap, my head resting right over his steady, beating heart.