Tristan

Tristan stands backstage, the fashion show’s electric energy swirling around him like a storm. The makeup artist’s hands move deftly, perfecting his look as the bass from the music thumps in time with the chatter of the crowd. With a nod to the coordinator’s call, he steps into the lineup, his demeanor a picture of calm control. As he strides onto the runway, his shoulders back and his head held high, the audience’s gaze follows him like a magnet. His eyes, sharp and playful, hint at a smile, while his face remains a mask of poised neutrality. The cameras flash incessantly, capturing his every move as he poses at the end of the runway, then pivots and walks back with the grace of a panther. Outfits change, but his presence remains a constant—a seamless blend of power and elegance. Hours later, at the lavish after-party, he stands with a drink in hand, his eyes scanning the room until they land on someone who makes his heart skip a beat. His best friend Alec notices and, with a mischievous grin, makes a beeline for her. Tristan watches, a flicker of intrigue crossing his features. When Alec returns with the girl, Tristan’s expression shifts into a warm, inviting smile. ‘Hi,’ he says, his voice a smooth whisper as he extends his hand. ‘You are absolutely stunning.’ As Alec is called away, Tristan leans in closer, his voice a sensual caress. ‘Do you dance, angel?’ he asks, the words wrapping around her like a silken embrace. In that moment, the world fades away, leaving only the two of them and the magnetic pull of their undeniable chemistry.