As the echoes of the cheering crowd finally subsided, Alex gently pushed open his dressing room door, swiftly shutting it behind him. This space was his sanctuary, an escape from the chaotic fervor outside. Leaning against the door, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, embracing the tranquility and fleeting calm. Twenty precious minutes of solitude lay before him, and he cherished every second.

Oh, how he'd battled for those twenty minutes. Bryce had vehemently opposed Alex's insistence on this privilege, arguing that it might diminish his opportunities for post-show networking—a "crucial marketing method," or so he claimed. Alex countered that he wasn't solely an Arden artist, pointing out that other band members hadn't made such requests. It seemed unjust for Bryce to presume he was the sole focus of fans and others immediately post-performance. Bryce attempted to negotiate less time, but Alex stood firm. With the band's new single skyrocketing up the charts, he held the upper hand. No compromises. Though he initially sought thirty minutes, he settled for twenty. It was stipulated in the contract.

Alex gravitated toward the couch and extracted a cigarette. Just before lighting it, he glimpsed his reflection in the mirror opposite. He drew a deep, heavy breath at the sight: his eyes vacant, the gaze of a man teetering on the brink of surrendering to himself. Dark circles etched beneath his eyes, his complexion so pallid it bordered on sickly. Despite the adoration of his fans—praising him as hot, stunning, a heartthrob—all he saw was a shattered individual.

His fingers found the bottle of Absolut perched elegantly in an ice bucket on the dressing room table. Another contractual stipulation: a bottle of chilled vodka, accompanied by accoutrements, both before and after the performance. This was right up there with his allocated twenty minutes of seclusion and the ban on cellphone use in the dressing room. Typically, Bryce dispatched a bottle of champagne, but Alex rarely indulged—those were for guests.

He poured a couple of fingers of frigid vodka into a glass, adding a touch of Vermouth and a couple of olives—his makeshift martini, a private joke to himself. Downing it in a few swallows, he surveyed the room, his gaze settling on his acoustic Fender. He walked over and scooped her up, settling into his chair, cradling the guitar in his lap. She was his cherished confidante, always attuned, never inquisitive. Ignoring the cacophony and vibrant energy just beyond his door, Alex shut his eyes, his fingers dancing over the frets. He began to pluck out chords and sing softly, his resonant baritone slightly husky after hours of performing before the crowd:

Alex's eyes snapped open, and he released a sigh. "You're no Cobain," he muttered, reaching for the vodka bottle to pour himself another shot. Downing it in one go, a polite knock reverberated on the door.

Alex grimaced. "It's not time yet," he growled.

"Alex... there's someone here... she says she knows you from the studio... Lana something?" came the voice from beyond the door.

Alex rolled his eyes and reclined, the surrender of his haven imminent. Amy knew the rule: during his 20-minute respite, only family and close friends were allowed. Lana was alright, but ugh... right now, he just wasn't in the mood for company. But then again, when was he ever? Downing the last of his drink, he straightened his shirt and reluctantly cracked the door open. Damn, he thought, not even a chance for a quick indulgence.

Lana stood in the doorway, squeezing herself against the doorframe. "Hey, buddy! That was an unreal show!" she exclaimed with contagious enthusiasm.

"Hey, Lana," he managed a slight smile. "Thanks."

"Mind if we step in for a minute?" she asked. "I promised my niece an autograph, and she's been pestering me."

"Yeah, sure," he grumbled, opening the door wider for Lana. Just as he was about to close the door, another face materialized behind her, expectant. Alex's gaze shifted from Lana to the newcomer. "Who's this?"

"Oh, this is Roxy! She's my roommate," Lana bubbled, ushering Roxy in as Alex shut the door. "She's not exactly a superfan, but I dragged her along tonight." A conspiratorial wink passed between Lana and Roxy. "And... she's a photographer! I thought, you know, maybe you'd let her do a photoshoot with you... it could really help her out!"

Roxy radiated a certain luminosity. Alex found his gaze inexplicably drawn to her. There was something about her that left him slightly dazed. "Uh... yeah, maybe. Nice to meet you, Roxy."

The three of them stood there, a few feet apart, Lana prattling on about music and songs, but Alex's mind had taken a detour. Gazing into Roxy's eyes, his breath hitched, and time seemed to slow down. His typically racing thoughts had gone quiet. All he saw was her. Roxy's presence seemed to captivate him, her gaze holding a hint of recognition that tugged at him. No doubt, she was beautiful, but this went beyond aesthetics—surrounded by attractive women, something about her stood out. It was a pull he couldn't quite fathom, an unfamiliar current that left him momentarily speechless. He struggled to string words together, his voice faltering. With effort, he managed to return to the present.

"Would you ladies like to sit? Have a drink?" he offered, attempting to anchor himself in the moment.

Lana exchanged a look with Roxy, met with a casual shrug. "Sure, Alex."

He gestured towards the couch, Lana's gaze sweeping the room and landing on the chilled champagne bottle.

"Any chance you were planning to crack that open?" she asked.

Alex chuckled. "Yeah, sure thing, Lana. Anything for you." As he reached for the bottle, his eyes flickered to Roxy, then back to Lana. "You don't happen to have a sword handy, do you?"

Lana shrieked. "Wait, what? Can you actually do that?"

Alex nodded. "Indeed, mademoiselle. But since we're lacking the necessary equipment, I suppose I'll have to opt for the conventional approach." He exaggerated a disappointed expression, holding the bottle between his knees. With a swift motion, he removed the foil and started twisting the cork. When he glanced at Roxy again, she was smiling at him, her eyes sparkling.

"What's that technique called?" Roxy inquired.

"Sabrage," he responded smoothly, well aware he was showing off for her, and he didn't mind one bit.

Lana playfully elbowed Roxy. "Impressive... and where did you learn that?"

"Eh, I took fencing lessons for quite a while."

With a satisfying pop, he uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses—handing one to Lana and extending the other towards Roxy.

"Yes?" he offered.

Roxy shrugged, a hint of shyness in her demeanor. "Well, I don't usually drink much, but... okay, thanks."

Lana's attention snapped to Roxy. "Seriously... how often do you find yourself backstage at the Beacon, in a rock star's dressing room⁠—"

Alex raised his hand, grimacing. "Eesh... no, please don't—don't bring that up."

Lana persisted, "But you are, for real, a full-blown rock star..."

Alex rolled his eyes, and Lana chuckled. "And this is a celebration. Congratulations on the Dark Things success." She took a sip of champagne. "Damn, this is some top-notch stuff! Aren't you joining us?"

"Yeah, why not," he muttered. His gaze kept returning to Roxy, who sat quietly, savoring her champagne and radiating a certain glow. A strange flutter danced in his stomach—a sensation he'd never quite experienced before.

"So, not a fan?" he teased Roxy, a mischievous glint in his eyes. She blushed a delicate shade of pink, and his heart skipped a beat. Man, she was incredibly endearing.

"It's not that... I just hadn't really listened to your music," she confessed, her voice soft. "But I genuinely enjoyed your performance tonight." She offered him a warm smile, her dimples making his smirk melt into a genuine grin.

"Really? Well, I'm glad...” he paused, then continued, “we managed to win you over."

Roxy nodded, her eyes sincere. "I might just have to get the album now."

Alex's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and satisfaction crossing his features. He rose from his chair and headed to a closet. After a brief search, he returned with two CDs, handing one to Roxy.

"Well... now you don't have to." He started to offer one to Lana, then stopped, recalling she already had one. "Oh, right, you've got it, don't you?" he chuckled.

"I have a demo! But I'd love one of those, and if you sign it, my niece will think I'm the coolest ever."

"Sure thing, no problem." Alex pulled out a marker and signed the CD—'With Love, from Oz'—before handing it back to Lana. He turned his gaze to Roxy. "Would you like me to sign yours as well?"

Roxy shrugged, passing the CD to him. Alex held her gaze for a moment, quirking an eyebrow before signing her CD. It took him longer this time, and he couldn't help biting his lip as he handed it back to her. Roxy studied the signature on the CD.

"Thanks... umm, what's this?" she asked, a touch of confusion in her voice.

He blinked, then chuckled. "That's my phone number."

Lana's eyes widened, and her mouth formed a silent "Oh, snap." Alex, however, was so engrossed by Roxy that he didn't notice her reaction. Roxy shot Lana a discreet warning glance, and Lana sealed her lips, holding back a knowing smile.

The distinct knock echoed once more.

"Go to hell," Alex shouted. Roxy let out a giggle, and his lips curved into a smile. Amy pushed the door open and looked at him.

"There's someone here Bryce wants you to meet."

"Amy, my dear, could you grant us a few more moments to wrap up our champagne?" he replied curtly.

"Five minutes," she snapped, shutting the door.

"Dammit," Alex muttered. "My time's almost up, ladies, unfortunately. Duty calls—to face the hordes," he added, rolling his eyes.

"We get it, Mr. Arden," Lana said with a grin. "Appreciate the CD and the bubbly." She extended her arms for a brief hug, while his gaze remained fixed on Roxy.

"Alright, catch you soon. You too, Roxy?" He raised an eyebrow.

Roxy blushed again, offering a shy smile. "Um... yeah, maybe. Thanks again," she murmured, trailing behind Lana as they left the room.

Amy stood in the doorway, growing impatient. "Ready now?"

Her words barely registered as he nodded absentmindedly. Sitting there, he remained still for another thirty seconds. I'll cross paths with her again. I'll make sure of it, even if I have to move heaven and earth to make it happen.

Lana and Roxy drifted out of the theatre onto Broadway, there the post-concert crowd was still lingering.

“How about we go somewhere for a drink? It’s such a great night, and it's Friday,” Lana prodded. “There’s a new bar a few blocks away on Amsterdam, let's go check it out.”

“Sure, why not?”

They drifted up Broadway toward 74th Street and into the warm, New York City evening. It was the heart of a Friday night in May, and the city lights were beckoning. It was all still so new to Roxy and she couldn’t help but be a little awed by it. Nothing like her hometown in Oklahoma. Roxy was quieter than usual, thinking about him. Alex.

“Why did you call him Alex? I thought he was called Oz.”

“Oz is his stage name,” Lana explained. “Which reminds me…” she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick photo of the marquee: OZ and THE DISCIPLES OF DUSK - SOLD OUT. “Oh my God! My niece will love this. She wants to come badly, but her mom thinks she's too young for a concert." She shrugged. "So, what's your verdict on him?"

"Well, he's quite the charmer, that's for sure. And, I suppose he's cute," Roxy replied in a hushed tone.

"You suppose?" Roxy burst into laughter. "Really? That's all you've got? Because that guy is completely into you. And just so you know, he's way more than just cute. Did you not notice those enchanting dark eyes? That smile? And... his football-player physique? Good grief..." Lana huffed. "I mean, he isn't even my type, but still—no way would I turn him away."

Roxy wrinkled her nose. "Lana!"

Lana giggled. "Hey, I'm just being honest. But, truthfully, he's got no interest in me now. Once he laid eyes on you, I might as well have been invisible."

"That's not true," Roxy mumbled, though even as she said it, she knew Lana had a point. She'd sensed the same magnetic attraction, even if she'd concealed it better.

Lana continued, "I can't believe he gave you his phone number. You might not realize this, but guys in bands don't usually do that. Especially not ones with chart-topping singles."

"Well, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Call him, you dummy!" Lana blurted out. "Talk to him. Maybe he'll ask you out somewhere. I've got their schedule—Alex is in New York until Sunday."

"He probably has a girlfriend," Roxy muttered. "Or a wife."

"Roxy, he doesn't. Trust me, call him."

"I can't," Roxy replied.

"Why the heck not?"

"I just... I'm not good at doing things like that," Roxy shook her head.

"Things like what? Going on dates? Look, he gave you his number because he didn't want to ask for yours. I say give him a shot. He's a good guy, Roxy. I got to know them while they were recording, and they're all cool. Granted, he might have his own struggles, but⁠—"

"What kind of struggles?" Roxy's gaze snapped to Lana.

"Oh, you know... stuff like dealing with substance abuse issues. But it comes with the territory."

"Substance abuse? Like he's an addict?"

"Roxy—no, come on. He does like to drink, though."

Roxy shot her friend an icy glare.

"Roxy, I wouldn't bring this up if I didn't think he's worth it. Just talk to him, maybe go out once. Then make your decision. When was the last time you actually went on a date?"

"I don't know. Is this the place?" Roxy paused as they approached Tessa, the restaurant looking fairly busy.

"Stop deflecting, Roxy. We need to improve your social life."

"I've got a better idea," Roxy said, linking arms with Lana and leading her into the restaurant. "How about you buy me a drink and convince me why I should give Alex Arden a chance?"

"That sounds good, except I think you should be the one buying it. I'm doing you a favor," Lana countered.

An hour and a half, plus two rounds of drinks later, they were still immersed in conversation about Alex and the band. Lana shared details about him—how he had battled depression, his musical preferences.

"Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Why are you resisting this so strongly?" Lana pressed.

"Why are you pushing me so hard?"

"Maybe because I know what I would do if I were in your shoes. At least give him a chance, Roxy! And just so you're aware, if you don't call him, he might ask me for your number. Would you be okay with me giving it?"

"You don't know what he's going to do," Roxy snapped.

Lana snorted. "I saw the look in that boy's eyes. Tell me you're alright with me giving him your number, and we can put this to rest. If he doesn't ask, he doesn't. Deal?"

"Ugh, you're such a pain," Roxy huffed.

"Well... there's another option," Lana grinned, her tipsy state fully apparent. "I could call him and invite him to your show!"

Roxy hesitated. "I'll think about it."

"Come on, Roxy, it's a perfect idea! You don't want to remain a recluse forever, do you?"

Roxy shot Lana a scolding look, appalled that she would say such a thing aloud—and in public. "I'm not..." she lowered her voice, "I'm not exactly a recluse."

Lana rolled her eyes. "Sure thing, babe."

Roxy regarded her friend skeptically. "Don't you dare go behind my back and call him, Lana."

Lana shrugged. "Fine, fine. You win."

Approaching noon on Sunday, Alex paced restlessly in his suite at The Mercer Hotel. His suitcase sat packed on the bed, an abandoned breakfast tray and the remnants of a Bloody Mary cluttered the table. Glancing at his watch once more, he realized he had just two hours left before he needed to head to JFK for his flight. He sighed heavily, a sense of disappointment tugging at him. She still hadn't called.

Since that Friday night, when he'd shared his number with Roxy—an action he rarely took, especially since becoming a member of DOD (Days of Darkness)—each time his phone chimed with a ring or a text notification, he'd snatch it up eagerly, hoping it was her. He yearned to hear her soft, shy voice on the other end of the line, or at least receive a text from her. But so far, nothing. And today he had to depart the city, uncertain of when he'd have the opportunity to return to New York.

Perhaps he'd misinterpreted her signals. While he had sensed a reciprocal connection, a magnetic pull between them, he couldn't help but doubt his own intuition now. Maybe he had simply imagined it, although deep down, he believed otherwise.

Frowning, he downed the Bloody Mary and settled into contemplation. He knew what he needed to do—or at least, he needed to give it a try.

Grabbing two mini bottles of Ketel One and a small container of orange juice from the minibar, he picked up his phone and dialed Lana's number. As the call connected, he unscrewed the top of the first bottle, downing its contents in a swift gulp. With the second bottle already open, he heard Lana's voice on the other end.

"Hey there, rock star! What's happening?" Her tone brimmed with cheerfulness, clearly thrilled to hear from him, though Alex knew she was generally quite upbeat.

"Hey... and don't call me that, Lana. You know better."

"Alright, alright," her laughter tinkled through the speaker. "I was expecting your call, you know." He could practically hear her grinning on the other side.

"What? Really? Why, is she with you?" His heart raced at the prospect.

"Who's she?" Lana teased.

"Lana, seriously. Is Roxy there? Why hasn't she called?"

"Alex, here's the deal. Roxy isn't here. But considering she didn't call you, I figured you might call me instead, and I told her as much."

"Great, so does she want to see me...? Why hasn't she called?"

"Alex, let me explain. Roxy isn't like the typical girls you're used to. She's shy, not a partygoer, not one for going out much..."

Listening intently, Alex twisted open the cap of the second bottle. "—Yeah? I got that impression." Truthfully, it was one of the qualities he found intriguing about her. "So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, take things slow, my friend. Move carefully. And though I can't give you her number, I'll share this with you: she has an upcoming show in three weeks. It's her and two other artists at a small gallery downtown. You could surprise her by showing up."

"Really? What's the date?" He scanned his itinerary, finding he had no show scheduled for the 18th. He would need to fly in from Chicago, but it seemed doable.

"She'd be thrilled to see you, trust me. I won't say a word to her," Lana assured him. "Consider it a surprise."

Alex nodded, that fluttering excitement returning to his stomach. "I'll make it work. Just text me all the details. Thanks, Lana. You've made my day. I owe you big time."

"Maybe you can invite me to the wedding," Lana chuckled before ending the call.

By the time he set his phone down, Alex's mood had done a complete 180-degree turn.

Three weeks. In three weeks, he would see her again.

"Hey, do we have everything in check? Ash, could you haul another case of white wine from the back?" Allison's buzzing around like a hyper hummingbird, all fidgety before the show.

"Sure thing, Captain," Ash grumbles under his breath, his patience running thin.

Roxy's fidgeting too, her nerves doing the cha-cha. It's her debut show, and who knows who might turn up. She's stuck in a corner, chewing on her lip, and waiting for Lana to roll in. Her phone dings, and she fishes it out.

Lana: I barely snagged a cab, but I'll be there soon.

Roxy: 'Bout time. Are you psychic or something?

She shoves her phone back in her pocket and smooths her hands over her black silk jacket. Way fancier than her usual getup, and the heels? She's trying not to wobble like a newborn deer.

Why'd she even think it might be him? She never gave him her number. But still, this completely irrational hope bubbles up that he might've texted. Quit it, she scolds herself. Stay in the moment.

Ash barrels out with another batch of wine, helping Allison lay them out on the table. It looks slick, all those bottles of fancy wine and Dean and DeLuca snacks. Roxy's gut grumbles; she's realizing she's hungry. She startles a little when someone sneaks up, squeezes her hand. She glances up.

"Hey, buddy!" Lana's there, squeezing her tight. "This is friggin' exciting, isn't it?" Lana's almost bouncing, like she's even more pumped than Roxy. "You hangin' in there?"

"Yeah... kinda nervous. Could use a wine glass right about now," Roxy admits.

"No doubt," Lana checks out the spread. "They've got the vino on lock. You must be starving, Roxy. And damn, you look good."

"Really?" Roxy scrunches her nose. She's dressed up way more than her usual style. Got on a summer dress and heels even though she's feeling like Bambi learning to walk.

For a split second, a totally wack hope flares up—did he text her? She never gave him her digits. Knock it off, she tells herself, get your head back in the game.

Ash trots over with more wine, helping Allison set things up. The spread looks killer, and Roxy's stomach gives a shout-out. Someone gives her hand a little squeeze, and she looks up.

"Hey, buddy!" Lana's got her in a bear hug. "This is so damn cool!" Roxy's thinking Lana's even more psyched than she is. "You holding up okay?"

"Yeah... kinda nervous. Could use a glass of wine to steady my nerves," Roxy admits.

"No doubt," Lana scopes out the grub. "Wine's on tap. You must be starving. And you're looking fly as hell."

"For real?" Roxy scrunches her face. She's rocking a summer dress and heels, a step up from her usual vibe. "Honestly, I'm dying to wipe off this makeup," she chuckles.

"Nah, don't mess it up. You'll ruin it, Roxy," Lana advises, grinning like she's just won a bet. She's psyched to see Roxy's face when the surprise guest shows up. She's proud of keeping this secret locked down for weeks.

Roxy eyes Lana like she's onto her game. "Why're you so stoked? Is there some juicy secret you ain't spillin'?"

Lana's eyes pop wide, and she stumbles, "What are you talkin' about?"

Roxy's got a hunch—she knows Lana too well. "You told him, didn't ya?"

"What you even blabbering about? You said not to, so I didn't," Lana defends, her poker face failing.

Roxy's eyes widen, a mix of anxious and stoked bubbling up. "Lana, you're a lousy actress. I know you let the cat outta the bag."

Before Lana can backpedal, Allison takes center stage to organize the troops.

"Alright, folks, it's seven o'clock... Our event's officially kickin' off!" Cheers roar as Allison beams like a sun. "Big thanks for hustling and making this showcase happen." She shoots Ash a smile, and he kinda blushes. "The bar's open, but let's wait a sec on the chow. Stay classy, y'all. We got a long night ahead." She lifts her glass for a toast, and the crowd lunges for the drinks.

Roxy leans into Lana, can't help herself. "So, did you spill the beans?"

Lana guides her toward the line. "First, let's fetch you some vino."

As they shuffle, Roxy spots Andrew, one of the other artists, in line ahead, switching gears from bugging Lana to tugging Andrew's sleeve.

"Andrew! Loving your installation," she gushes.

Andrew turns and grins. "Hey! Thanks, Roxy! Hoping it resonates. Your stuff rocks too," he says, passing her a glass of red.

"Red, please. Oh, and Andrew, this is Lana," Roxy introduces, nodding at Lana. "She's super into funky sculptures."

Roxy laughed as she stepped away from Lana and Andrew. She headed to a wall with one of her favorite photos – an old woman with a smile that hinted at a lifetime of stories. Taking a sip of her wine, she was pleasantly surprised by its taste.

Next, she checked out Janine's piece, even though she knew all the art by heart. Tonight, she was trying to see it from a fresh perspective. Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her, sending a shiver down her spine. She took a deep breath and turned around.

“What do you think of this one?” a deep voice murmured near her ear. Warm breath brushed her cheek. Slowly, she faced him – Alex Arden, in a white t-shirt, jeans, and a black jacket. His hair was tousled yet perfect. Man, he was even hotter in person.

“Hey,” he said, a knowing smile on his lips. Like he knew she'd been thinking about him even if she hadn't called.

“Hi,” Roxy managed, fighting off a blush.

They stood there, the unspoken connection between them, until Lana intervened.

“Alex! Why are you here?” Lana blurted, Andrew in tow.

“Hey, Lana,” Alex chuckled. Roxy shot Lana a look that said, Really? But Lana was flushed and grinning. Lana whisked Andrew away. “Come on, Andrew, let's explore the art,” she said, beaming.

“Wait, is that Oz Dusk?” Andrew asked, puzzled. “How does he know Roxy?”

Roxy and Alex both laughed. Alex glanced at Roxy.

“You look great,” he said, “I flew in from Chicago to see your work. Well, sort of. I came to see you.” He extended his hand to her. “Now that I'm here, want to show me your world?”

Roxy's eyes lit up. She took his hand. “Sure, follow me.”

At that moment, Alex felt like he had hit the jackpot.

Alex and Roxy roamed around the gallery for over an hour, chatting about art and life. Alex had a couple of glasses of wine but paced himself, not wanting to overdo it. He was more interested in savoring Roxy's presence. He kept close, engrossed in her words, her laugh becoming the soundtrack of the evening. Despite being recognized a few times, he was glad most people in Manhattan were chill around celebrities, allowing him to focus entirely on Roxy. The way she absentmindedly fluffed her hair caught his attention, making him imagine kissing her along the curve of her jaw, trailing down her neck...

“Alex?”

“Hmmm?” He snapped out of his reverie, realizing he had missed her words. “Sorry. Lost track there for a moment.”

“What do you think of this?” They were in front of a minimalist painting by Janine. Not his thing at all. He shrugged. “It's... nice.”

“Yeah…” Roxy grinned. “I've heard that a lot. It's not my thing either.”

“I love your photos, though. Show me more?”

Roxy lit up, leading him to her last piece – a cityscape near the Brooklyn Bridge. “This is a favorite. Took it my first week in New York.”

“Really? When was that?”

“Almost a year ago,” she murmured. “Feels like a different lifetime.”

“Planning to stick around?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “I fell for this city right away. The energy...”

Alex's eyes dipped to her lips, a shiver running through him. He wanted to kiss her, and more.

“Can we step outside for a bit? Need some air.”

“Sure, yeah—let's do that.”

They walked outside into the evening warmth, just beyond the gallery entrance. Alex's limo was nearby, his driver nodding at him.

“Did you want to smoke?” Roxy began, but he closed the gap between them, his lips capturing hers. Roxy's breath hitched before melting into the kiss. His tongue sought entrance, and she granted it. The kiss was insistent yet gentle, and a soft whimper escaped her. Alex pressed closer, feeling her shudder. He pulled back, desire in his eyes.

“Can I tell you something?” Alex's breath was uneven.

Roxy nodded.

“I've been wanting to do that since I met you. Been thinking about you nonstop. Hoping you'd call.”

“I wanted to,” she murmured.

“Why didn't you?”

“I'm just not... ” She shook her head. “I get nervous.”

“It's okay. We can take it step by step. If you're up for it...”

Please say yes.

“I am. I want to know you better,” she said. “Sorry, that's so cheesy!” Her scowl was adorable.

“No,” he whispered. “Sounds good to me.”

They strolled hand in hand for about thirty minutes, lost in each other's company. Alex's limo driver trailed them from a respectful distance, granting them privacy. Roxy shared stories of her first week in New York, how she had fallen for the people and their vibrant energy. As he listened to her, all Alex wanted was to hold her close.

The atmosphere was charged, and they lost track of time and distance. Neither of them seemed to mind.

“Oh, damn,” Roxy exclaimed. “We've gotten lost.” She burst into laughter, and Alex couldn't help but grin, adoring her joy, her carefree spirit.

“Not really,” he said, nodding toward the limo trailing behind them. Roxy hadn't realized it was there, and her face lit up. “But honestly, being lost wouldn't matter to me.”

He gently squeezed her hand, and Roxy nodded. With him, she felt secure. She couldn't remember feeling this content and optimistic before.

“If you could be anywhere right now, where would it be?” Alex asked, his tone suddenly serious.

“Hmm, Paris?” she chuckled. “Or maybe Alaska?”

Alex arched an eyebrow. “Paris? That can be arranged. I'm a fan of Paris,” he mused. “Alaska might be a bit trickier.”

Roxy playfully clicked her tongue. “Come on, are you telling me you can whisk us away to Paris tonight, just like that?”

He smirked at her. “I could. If you wanted. I'd have to be back in Chicago by tomorrow night for a show, though. But it's possible.”

Her practicality kicked in. “Alex…” She laughed softly. “That sounds incredible, but I have work tomorrow.”

He shrugged. “Call in sick?”

She stared at him, his eyes issuing a challenge.

“I think Paris will have to wait for another time.”

Alex smirked, thrilled by the implication that there would be another time. They continued walking, and then he recognized their location.

“Look,” he pointed ahead with his chin, directing her gaze to a park. “Washington Square Park. We're near NYU. It's been ages since I was here.”

“You know the city well, huh?” Roxy inquired.

“Yeah, I went to NYU and grew up in Manhattan. My mom's still here on the Upper East Side.” His gaze locked onto hers. “I'm thinking of getting a place here again. You think that's a good idea?” he asked, hoping she caught his drift.

Roxy met his gaze, a mix of nerves and longing in her eyes. “Yeah, that sounds good. But hey, I think we should head back to the gallery. Lana might wonder where I went, and I don’t⁠—”

Without hesitation, Alex nodded, leading her to a corner where he spotted his limo. He raised his hand slightly, and the limo silently glided toward them. With a flourish, he opened the door for her.

“Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

When they finally returned to the gallery, it was nearly 10 PM, and the show was winding down. The steady stream of visitors had tapered off, and the gallery had grown notably quieter. Roxy was surprised to spot Lana outside, on the verge of getting into a cab.

“Sorry, we decided to take a walk and lost track of time,” Roxy explained.

Lana regarded her friend with warmth. “No need to apologize, Roxy. I'm really glad you two had a chance to spend time together. Actually, why are you back so soon?” She laughed.

“Heading home. Andrew's lovely, but work tomorrow, so no late-night hangout for me. Catch you whenever you're back. Oh, by the way, Andrew wanted an autograph.” Lana winked and got into the cab.

Alex stood a little to the side, observing Roxy's farewell to Lana and some of the staff. Roxy glanced over at him.

“Sorry if I hurried us back,” she said, her gaze shifting toward Andrew and Ash as they joined them outside. Ash lit a cigarette while Andrew glanced at Roxy.

“It's all good. Hungry?” Alex asked.

Roxy realized she hadn't eaten much since early afternoon, only a few appetizers. “Yeah, I am. Can you do me a favor first?”

Alex grinned. “Anything for you.”

Roxy motioned Andrew over, with Ash trailing behind. “Andrew, I thought you'd like to meet Alex. Alex, this is Andrew... and Ash.”

Andrew's eyes widened, his hand extending toward Alex. “Wow, Oz— I mean Alex. Love the new album! Big fan,” he gushed.

Ash chimed in, “Yeah, great job.”

“Thanks, guys. It's the fans that make it all happen,” Alex replied modestly.

“Mind if we take a picture?” Andrew asked with enthusiasm.

Alex agreed, and they spent a few minutes capturing snapshots. Andrew requested Alex's autograph on his copy of the gallery program, and Ash had him sign his forearm.

Roxy chimed in, “Alex and I are grabbing some food. Wanna join us? Maybe Allison wants to come too?”

“I think Allison's going to be busy cleaning up for a while, and I'll give her a hand. You know how she is,” Ash said.

Perfect, Alex thought. He just wanted more time alone with Roxy.

“Alright, Andrew, you up for it?” Roxy asked.

Andrew looked at Alex, who raised an eyebrow, and a subtle but clear understanding passed between them. Andrew got the message that it wouldn't be a great idea.

“Nah, thanks, Roxy. I need to get home. Fantastic night, though.”

“We did have a blast, right?” Roxy grinned and leaned in to peck Andrew on the cheek. Unseen by them, a shadow of jealousy crossed Alex's face.

“It was awesome meeting you, Alex,” Andrew smiled again. Alex nodded. “You too, man.”

“We can drop you at the subway,” Roxy offered. Andrew shook his head, sensing the change in Alex's demeanor. “Nah, I'll walk. Night, guys!”

Roxy glanced back at Alex, and he smiled. “Looks like it's just us. Where should we go?”

“This is where we're heading? I thought most places shut their kitchens at ten,” Roxy remarked.

Alex shrugged. “Yeah, well, Dylan and I go way back. I always drop in when I'm in New York.”

“Dylan?” Roxy inquired.

“Dylan West,” he rolled the name around his mouth. “He's the owner.” Roxy nodded, recalling the name as that of a prominent restaurateur. “He's not around tonight, but I texted him.”

Frank dropped them off right at the entrance, and Alex and Roxy entered the café. Given the hour, there was hardly any food traffic; most patrons were on their way out. A small group lingered in the lounge area, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. Alex guided them to a lounge table by the window.

“We can start with a drink and then place our orders. Get me a double vodka tonic, and you pick what you want. I'll be back in a sec.”

Roxy observed as Alex made his way towards the kitchen, exchanging greetings with a tall man who had salt-and-pepper hair. They engaged in a brief conversation. A waitress arrived at their table, flashing Roxy a friendly smile. She was pretty, with long black hair.

“What can I get you?” the waitress inquired.

Roxy ordered a glass of Pinot Noir for herself and Alex’s double vodka tonic. She surveyed the room, taking in the ambiance. She guessed Alex had gone to the restroom. Deciding to peruse the menu, she didn't notice the older man at the bar approaching her table.

“Hello,” he greeted, a friendly smile on his face.

Roxy looked up, a little surprised. The man appeared older than her, but he had a certain charm.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, smiling.

“Oh, no thanks. I'm here with someone.”

“Right, of course,” he responded. “Of course, a beautiful woman like you. Well, he's a lucky man.”

Just then, Roxy spotted Alex returning to the table out of the corner of her eye. He didn't seem pleased.

“Can I help you?” Alex's voice had an edge as he addressed the stranger. The man seemed taken aback. “Sorry, I was just leaving...” Recognition crossed his face, his demeanor shifting. “You're—you're Oz Dusk! You are, right?”

Alex's gaze flicked briefly to Roxy and then back to the stranger. He nodded. The stranger immediately backed off. “I love your music,” he stammered. “I'm so sorry for bothering you. Sorry, miss.” With a final nod, he quickly exited the restaurant.

Alex took a seat, his expression dark.

“Well, that was interesting,” Roxy commented.

Before he could respond, the waitress arrived with their drinks. Her face lit up at the sight of Alex.

“Alex, look who's here!” she exclaimed.

“Hey, Cindy. How've you been?” Alex greeted.

She leaned in, giving him a peck on the cheek. They chatted for a couple of minutes, Roxy sitting back and watching with a slight frown. Now it was her turn to feel a tinge of jealousy.

“Cindy, this is Roxy,” Alex introduced, his eyes sparkling.

Roxy managed a smile and nod. She picked up her wine and took a long sip, observing the conversation between Alex and Cindy. Quiet annoyance simmered within her. She was surprised by her feelings. She had no claim on Alex Arden, so why did she suddenly feel possessive?

Once Cindy had gone, Alex raised his drink, his expression a touch smug. “So, what was that all about?”

Furrowing her brow, Roxy responded, “That guy? No idea.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze locked onto hers.

“I could ask you the same,” Roxy shot back.

“Cindy's been here for years. We're cool. There's never been anything more between us, if that's what you're thinking.” He seemed smug, which only grated on her.

“Take your word for it,” Roxy quipped, an eyebrow raised at him.

“That must happen to you all the time, right?” he muttered. “Whenever you're out.”

“Alex, as I said, I don't go out much, and—” she paused.

His gaze remained unwavering, fixed on hers. “Good. Be cautious when you do. Most guys are jerks. I wouldn't want anyone taking advantage of you.”

She interjected, “Alex, I'm twenty-four.”

He lifted his chin, his defiant stare locked on her. “You're still innocent.”

“How would you know that?” Roxy chuckled, her irritation evident.

His dark eyes bore into hers. “I just do,” he stated simply.

As she held his gaze, a slight bob in his throat caught her attention. He extended his hand toward her, mirroring his earlier gesture. She hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand in his.

Alex gently massaged her fingers in his warm grip, his eyes never leaving hers. Gradually, he lifted her hand to his lips, planting tender kisses on her wrist and thumb. Roxy watched intently as he pressed the pad of her thumb to his lips and then softly sucked on it.

A surge of sensation swept through Roxy, igniting a liquid fire within her. She felt herself growing wet, a response she couldn't deny.

Their intimate moment was disrupted by a waiter who arrived to take their order. Alex ordered more drinks and a small pizza for them to share.

Once the waiter left, Roxy took a deep breath and spoke up, “I've got a question for you.”

“Anything,” Alex responded.

“Why 'Oz Dusk'? Why not use your real name?”

Alex nodded thoughtfully. “Oz embodies my Shadow.”

Roxy arched an eyebrow. “Your Shadow?”

“Have you ever delved into Carl Jung's work?”

“He's the guy who talked about anima and animus, right?”

“That's part of it,” he confirmed. “Modern psychology draws heavily from his ideas—well, his and Freud's. Although, if you ask me, Freud was a bit off the mark.”

Roxy chuckled at his candid assessment, and he continued. “Jung proposed that the Shadow represents the darker facets of one's nature. Many of us prefer not to acknowledge it as it stirs up unsettling aspects of ourselves.” He paused, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “Every one of us has a dark side, Roxy. Even you.”

Roxy contemplated this for a moment. “I suppose that's true.”

He took a sip of his drink. “It's a starting point,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“It means I'm hoping you won't run away. That this—” he gestured between them — “can evolve into something more. It's hard to explain, but I sense a connection between us.”

Their eyes locked, and Roxy responded softly, “I feel it too.”

Alex seemed to catch his breath; he had been right all along. Leaning in closer, he asked, “Will you stay with me tonight, Roxy?”

Roxy's mind raced. She didn't usually engage in such experiences; it just didn't sit well with her. Yet, the decision took her only a fraction of a second.

With a small smile, she replied, “Yes.”

Alex's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning.

In a matter of minutes, Roxy and Alex found themselves in the limo on their way downtown to his hotel. A pizza box rested on the front seat, while they occupied the back. Alex's eyes were fixed on her, undressing her with his gaze. Roxy wondered why he wasn't making a move yet. She sensed he was holding back, which only heightened her anticipation. His hand traveled up her thigh, gently pushing the hem of her dress.

A warm palm settled on her knee, squeezing softly before he leaned in for an intense kiss. Their destination arrived quickly, and he guided her through the hotel lobby and into the elevator. Roxy felt a mix of surprise and trepidation; she had no idea what to expect.

Once inside a luxurious suite—easily twice the size of any hotel room she'd seen before—Alex stroked her hair, his gaze fixated on her.

“Roxy, have you ever made love with anyone?” he inquired.

“I... I've had a few, but...” She trailed off, uncertain.

He nodded in understanding. “I want to try something with you, but I need your trust. Do you trust me?”

His voice was mesmerizing, coaxing her response. “Yes.”

“Good. Listen to me carefully and follow my lead—no questions. If anything feels wrong or uncomfortable, say the word 'red,' and I'll stop. Can you do that for me?”

Roxy swallowed hard, her heart racing. “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning in for a tender kiss. “One more thing. While we're here, call me Oz.”

Roxy hesitated for a moment. Wasn't Oz the embodiment of his dark side?

“Go sit on the edge of the bed,” he whispered.

Although she was on the verge of asking a question, she caught herself and walked to the bed on slightly unsteady legs. Alex didn't follow but settled into an armchair nearby. Puzzled, she looked at him but remained silent.

“Lift your skirt to your hips and take off your panties,” he instructed.

Roxy complied without question. “Good girl. Now spread your legs for me. Let me see your beautiful pussy.”

Embarrassment flushed her cheeks as her heart raced. Everything was so new and strange, and Alex's ravenous gaze only fueled her arousal. Yet, Alex seemed to be taking his time, which only increased her anticipation. She wondered when he would finally make love to her.

Alex reached for a pack of cigarettes on the table and lit one. His gaze traced her body, lingering on the intimate space between her legs that was aching for his touch. He exhaled a leisurely puff of smoke, all the while keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“Spread your legs wider… that's it. Now, play with yourself for me,” he commanded.

Roxy's heart raced as she hesitated briefly before complying. This was uncharted territory, a mix of terror and thrill coursing through her veins.

“Time out,” she whispered.

Alex arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. There was a playful smile on his lips. “Yes?”

“You're not... I mean, aren't you going to do it to me?” she questioned.

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Easy there, my love. We're just getting started.” His smile was indulgent, reassuring. “Anything else?”

“Yes... you're not planning to hurt me, right?” she voiced her concern.

Leaning back against the wall, he released another puff of smoke. “Come on, Roxy. I told you that if anything doesn't feel right, you just say the safe word, and I'll stop. I promise you. Clear?”

Roxy nodded, a mix of curiosity and vulnerability in her gaze. “Yes, but⁠—”

“Pretend like this is your first time, Roxy. I want this to be the best experience for you. No asking questions,” he growled. “Show me how you play with yourself when you're alone.”

Roxy's fingertips traced over her sensitive skin, her thumb brushing against her clit. She began to stroke herself gently, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Alex leaned forward, his eyes hooded with desire, his lips parting slightly. Through his jeans, she could discern the outline of his erection.

“God, you're exquisite like this,” he breathed.

Her fingers continued their delicate dance, and he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. With calculated intent, he advanced toward her, stopping just inches from her spread legs. She ceased her movements, her gaze lifting to meet his.

“Undo my belt, kitten.” His voice held a husky note of command as he waited, allowing her to follow his instruction.

“Now unzip me.” Roxy's excitement mingled with a hint of nervousness as she tugged down his zipper and assisted in sliding his jeans to the floor, leaving him clad only in boxers.

“Lie back... I’m hungry.”

Settling onto the bed, she positioned herself as instructed. Alex crawled between her legs, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss before trailing down her body. His mouth journeyed to her pert nipples, causing them to harden under his attentions. He playfully toyed with her belly button using his tongue, igniting a delightful squirm from her.

Alex nudged her knees apart, initiating a gentle trail of kisses along her inner thighs. Roxy felt a pleasurable tension deep within, attempting to stay still for his exploration. Closing her eyes, she anticipated his mouth on her clit, but his movements abruptly halted, and her eyes snapped open.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he smirked. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Yes,” she panted.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Oz,” she murmured, yearning for him to continue.

“Good girl.”

Her gaze never left him as he descended to pleasure her. Alex's unhurried licks were tantalizingly slow, teasing around her clit without fully touching it. She couldn't suppress a soft moan, her eyes darting with pleasure. Finally, he enveloped her glistening nub with his soft lips. The sensation sent a shiver through her, and he intensified his suction.

As he sucked and teased, Roxy could feel herself building toward her climax. When he slipped a finger inside her, her release surged over her, leaving her quivering in its aftermath.

She had never reached such heights so quickly and intensely before.

Sitting back, Alex gazed at her with a lingering lust in his eyes. “That was quite swift,” he teased.

“I couldn't help it. It's never felt like that before,” Roxy admitted.

Affectionately, he leaned in to kiss her, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue. When he sat up, she reached for his erect cock, tenting in his boxers. She slipped her hand inside to stroke him, and a low groan escaped him. She tugged his boxers down over his hips, revealing his impressive size. Roxy's eyes widened at the sight, a mixture of awe and anticipation coursing through her. Although she wondered if it would hurt, she wasn't concerned—she trusted him implicitly.

“Are we going to have sex? Do you have condoms?” she asked, her eagerness palpable.

Chuckling, Alex stroked her cheek. “Easy, Roxy. We have all night.”

Alex lay beside Roxy, propped on one elbow, his hand teasing her nipples. He took his time, rolling them slowly between his fingers. Roxy squirmed and moaned, caught in pleasure. He loved watching her, every sound, every flutter of her eyelids, the flush on her cheeks.

He watched her rise and fall, breaths quickening until she panted. The urge to be inside her was strong, but he restrained himself. He wanted to make her ready.

“Alex, I want you inside me,” she whimpered. “Please...”

Her voice tugged at him, but he held back. “I want you ready,” he whispered. His lips met her nipple, sucking gently, and then his fingers returned to her other breast. Her moans escalated as he intensified the touch, her hips moving. Soon, she climaxed again, calling his name.

When their eyes met, his gaze was intense.

“Roxy, that was so fuckin’ hot,” he confessed. She giggled.

“Ready now?” she asked impatiently.

“Yes,” he said urgently. He met her eyes. “But not just for sex. I want to make love to you.”

She smiled. “And the difference?”

“I'm not fucking around.”

“Alright... timeout,” she said.

“Again?”

“Earlier, you didn't answer me clearly about hurting me.”

“I won't hurt you. Except maybe spankings.”

“Spankings?” She laughed.

“Dead serious. You'll like it,” he said with a wicked grin, putting on a condom.“Anything else?” he asked.

“No.” She moved closer, boldly kissed him, and touched him.

“Ready?” he asked, breathless.

“Yes.”

He entered her slowly, watching her. She gasped and he paused. As he deepened, she grimaced. He held still.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Yes... You’re—so big, but... It feels so good.”

Alex's smile deepened as he continued to move within her, their bodies synchronizing in a dance of pleasure. The room was filled with the symphony of their moans and heavy breathing, a testament to the intimacy they were sharing. He relished the feeling of her warmth around him, her walls clenching with every thrust, pushing him closer to the edge.

Roxy's gasps and moans were music to his ears, spurring him on. He knew he was close, but he wanted to prolong this moment, to make it unforgettable for her. With a swift but gentle motion, he withdrew from her, earning a disappointed whimper from her lips. He caressed her cheek, panting himself, and guided her down the bed.

"Get on top," he growled, his voice thick with desire.

Driven by the unspoken connection between them, Roxy eagerly obeyed. Straddling his thighs, she met his hungry gaze and lowered herself onto him, a deliciously slow descent that filled them both with sensation. She let out a guttural moan as he filled her completely, their eyes locked in a fiery connection that spoke of their mutual craving.

Alex's hands found her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he helped her establish a rhythm. She rocked against him, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Roxy felt the heat building within her, the coil of tension winding tighter and tighter. His touch on her clit sent shockwaves through her, her moans growing in volume and urgency.

With a final, electrifying jolt, Roxy's body trembled as her orgasm swept over her, her voice mingling with his name in a crescendo of ecstasy. And as if her climax had been the catalyst, Alex followed suit, a raw groan escaping his lips as he found release in the intensity of the moment.

Roxy collapsed against his chest, their breaths mingling as they clung to each other in the aftermath. The room was hushed now, the storm of their passion subsiding. She felt his lips press against her shoulder, a soft and tender gesture that warmed her heart.

"Sleep, angel," he whispered, his voice a soothing lullaby.

Roxy closed her eyes, a contented smile on her lips as she nestled against him, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her ear. With the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders, she surrendered to the embrace of slumber, knowing that she was safe in his arms.

As sleep claimed him too, Alex's final conscious thought reverberated through his mind like a possessive refrain: All mine.

Early morning light was just starting to creep through the windows when Roxy's eyes fluttered open. The unfamiliar surroundings momentarily confused her, until the memories of the previous night flooded back. A contented smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she recalled the passionate hours she had spent with Alex. As she stretched beneath the sheets, she realized that Alex was not beside her. Her hand instinctively reached out to the empty space next to her, confirming his absence.

The soft click of a lighter reached her ears, drawing her attention. Turning her head toward the sound, Roxy's gaze found Alex seated in the chair by the bed, an acoustic guitar cradled in his hands. The room was still wrapped in the embrace of dawn's half-light, allowing her to see him in a silhouette that was both mysterious and captivating. The tendrils of pale light that filtered through the curtains revealed his rugged features, casting a warm halo around his dark hair.

She watched in quiet fascination as he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply before exhaling a ribbon of smoke into the air. The tendrils of smoke danced like ethereal wisps, adding to the sense of enchantment that seemed to shroud the room. The guitar lay across his lap, its strings waiting to be awakened by his touch. His fingers brushed over the fretboard, lingering over the strings with a familiarity that suggested a deep bond between him and the instrument.

Roxy's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions as she observed him lost in the melody of the early morning. His humming, soft and melodic, intertwined with the strumming of the guitar, creating an intimate symphony that resonated within the quiet spaces of the room. It was as if the music itself had a life of its own, a manifestation of the emotions that flowed between them.

Her body seemed to move of its own accord as she shifted, careful not to disturb the moment he was creating. His fingers continued to dance over the strings, conjuring a melody that was both haunting and tender. Roxy's gaze remained fixed on his profile, her heart swelling with an affection that seemed to transcend mere attraction. In this moment, she felt as if she were glimpsing a part of him that he rarely revealed—a vulnerability that was as alluring as it was captivating.

His humming began to give way to the lyrics of a song, his voice a deep and soulful baritone that wrapped around the words like a comforting embrace. Roxy's ears drank in every note, every word, as if they were a secret shared between them. The lyrics spoke of love's complexities, of moments both joyous and bittersweet. It was a narrative that resonated with her, as if the song itself were an echo of the emotions that had blossomed between them.

As he sang, Roxy felt a soft smile tugging at her lips. It was as if he were inviting her into a world where music was the language of the heart, where emotions were expressed through each chord and note. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a connection that seemed to transcend the boundaries of time and space.

When the last chord faded into the air, Alex set the guitar aside and turned his gaze toward her. His eyes, those windows to his soul, held a mixture of emotions that mirrored her own. He rose from the chair, his movements graceful as he made his way to the edge of the bed. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle yet electric.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said softly.

“No…keep playing. Please,” she said.

Alex nodded. He shifted to find the position on the guitar and began strumming, singing over the chords in his slightly rough baritone.

“Before you slip into unconsciousness, I'd like to have another kiss...