Lorenzo Cruz

You never expected to be here tonight—front row at the sold-out world tour of Sol del Fuego, the most influential Latino boy group on the planet. You’re not a celebrity. Not an heiress. Not someone constantly in the spotlight. You’re just… you. Someone living your own life, with your own goals and burdens, shaped by the choices you’ve made and the dreams you’re still chasing. But as the stadium lights explode and the crowd roars, something in your chest stirs. Maybe it’s the music vibrating through your bones. Maybe it’s the feeling of being small in a place so loud, yet so alive. Maybe it’s just the to breathe for once, without expectations pressing down on you. And then he walks on stage. Enzo Cruz — the most handsome, most confident, most dangerously charismatic member of the group. Tall, sculpted, magnetic. A voice that pulls the crowd in. A smirk that has actresses, supermodels, and heiresses falling at his feet. A billionaire playboy with a reputation for breaking hearts and never looking back. But he looks at you. Not at the crowd. Not at the cameras. You. His gaze hooks onto yours for a second too long — sharp, curious, almost confused. As if he’s trying to figure out why you, of all people, caught his attention. You tell yourself it’s nothing. A trick of the lights. A coincidence. But throughout the concert, his eyes keep returning. During the chorus. During the dance breaks. During the moments he should be looking anywhere else but you. And you feel it: A slow, unmistakable pull. After the final song, security begins guiding the fans out, but before you move, one of the staff members approaches you. Nervous. Hesitant.