12. Asa

Lena"s apartmentunfolded before me like a page from a high-end interior design magazine. The open-concept living area exuded both coziness and elegance, with plush couches and armchairs arranged around a sleek coffee table. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the breathtaking cityscape, providing a stunning backdrop to our intimate gathering.

We were nestled around the coffee table on the carpet that felt like clouds beneath our fingers. Lena"s dining table stood at a distance, grand and somewhat imposing with its sleek lines and dark wood, but here on the floor, with cushions scattered about for comfort, we found our little haven.

The coffee table groaned under the weight of dishes—steaming bowls of risotto perfumed with truffle oil, a platter of sushi so fresh it seemed to still harbor the ocean"s breath, artisanal breads beside pots of homemade spreads, and a colorful array of macarons that promised sweetness on our tongues. Lena appeared from the kitchen, her arms cradling another dish to add to our feast.

Zara"s excitement bubbled over as she leaned forward, her curly hair bouncing with every enthusiastic nod. "Tell us everything. What"s this TechXMan like? Is he good-looking? How old is he? I can"t believe a tech man is your fan. Like wow!"

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity beneath her perfectly arched brows; she was the image of vibrant energy, dressed in an ensemble that managed to be both stylish and comfortable.

I chuckled at her barrage of questions, feeling my cheeks warm under their collective gaze. Eli corrected Zara with his usual quiet confidence. "Not TechXMan. It"s TechTemplarX."

He sat across from me, his soft-lavender eyes meeting mine with an understanding that went beyond words. His platinum-blond hair caught the light every time he moved, casting him in an almost angelic glow. I couldn"t help but feel a wave of affection for him; Eli was like a melody in human form—gentle and beautiful.

Lena began to eat, her chopstick holding a piece of sushi. "I bet he wears glasses."

My eyes widened in surprise at her accurate guess. Lena was resplendent even in her casual elegance, a flowing silk blouse paired with fitted pants that accentuated her innate sense of style. She had always been an older sister to me in this dazzling world we inhabited together.

"You"re right. He does wear glasses." My mind drifted back to our encounter, recalling the way his spectacles framed those intense gray eyes. "He"s tall, specifically six foot two, and yes, he is handsome. I mean, although he wore a face mask and I couldn't see his face fully, I think he's handsome."

As I bit into a macaron, its delicate shell giving way to a burst of lemon that danced on my tongue, I caught myself smiling as X"s striking features flashed through my mind—the sharp angles of his jaw, the rich waves of his hair, the lithe strength of his frame. A warmth bloomed in my chest as I remembered how at ease he had made me feel despite my initial nervousness.

Zara tilted her head, her brows arching with intrigue. "So he"s a hunk? Even though you couldn't even see his face properly?"

Lena, with a sip of her sparkling water, chimed in before I could respond. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This tech man can be a hunk to Asa but not to any of us."

Zara nodded in agreement, her expression turning almost wistful. "True. Now, if this TechXMan is anything like the Davenport triplets…" She let out a dreamy sigh, and I couldn"t blame her, the Davenport brothers were the epitome of alpha male perfection.

Eli gently corrected her again, his voice soft yet insistent. "It"s TechTemplarX."

"It"s X," I interjected quickly, eager to steer away from further scrutiny. "He told me to call him X."

All three friends turned their heads toward each other, then back at me, their expressions an intricate dance of curiosity and amusement.

Zara"s voice rose with speculation. "Xander?"

Lena followed suit, playful mischief lacing her tone. "Xayden?"

Eli sat forward slightly, his fingers tapping out an absent rhythm on his knee as he contributed with an unexpected guess. "Xavier?"

Their simultaneous gazes snapped onto Eli as if he had just unlocked some hidden truth.

Zara scoffed gently, brushing off the suggestion. "No way it"s Xavier."

Lena leaned forward, her grin widening as she teased me relentlessly. "It could be Xavier… Xavier Davenport."

My cheeks flushed with heat at Lena"s words, my skin tingling with embarrassment and a thrill at the mere thought. The air grew thick with implication as their eyes fixed on me. But, of course, there was no way X was Xavier Davenport. What billionaire tech genius like him would want to come down from his pedestal to walk beside me, more so, become my fan? The notion seemed utterly implausible.

"Whatever his name is," I said hastily, feeling the need to quell the rising tide of speculation around me, "it doesn"t matter. Just X is fine with me." I switched topics quickly. "Anyway, I must say the expo was quite the experience. I've never seen so many inventive minds in one place. I learned a lot about the latest tech in music and performance. It"s truly fascinating!"

"That"s wonderful," Eli replied, his voice soft but filled with genuine interest.

Lena leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Tell us what you"ve learned."

I settled back against a plush cushion, my mind racing through the day"s events. "Well, X explained how there"s this new software that can predict how a song will perform commercially based on algorithms. It analyzes melody structures, beats, even lyrical content. And then there"s this virtual reality tech that can create entire concerts with holographic imagery, making it feel like you"re right there with the performer."

Their expressions ranged from amazement to excitement as they absorbed every detail I shared. Zara seemed particularly captivated by the idea of virtual concerts, already brainstorming how it could revolutionize stage management.

As dusk turned to evening and our meal drew to a close, Lena brought out a garment bag with an air of mystery. "I had this made for you," she said as she unzipped the bag to reveal a dress that took my breath away.

The white-silver fabric shimmered like moonlight on water, catching every flicker of light in the room. The design struck a delicate balance between innocence and allure—a fusion of bridal gown and lingerie that seemed tailored for an angelic siren. The skirt ended at mid-thigh, offering freedom of movement for my dancing. As I slipped into it, the fabric hugged my body perfectly, as if it were a second skin designed solely for me.

Lena"s eyes lit up as she observed me in the dress. "You look perfect," she breathed out, her voice carrying a blend of awe and pride.

Zara let out an excited shriek, bouncing on her heels as she clapped her hands together. "You"re absolutely stunning!"

Eli stood by the music player, his fingers hovering over the start button. "Shall we practice?" he asked, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of anticipation.

"Yes," I responded eagerly, feeling a surge of confidence in Lena"s masterpiece.

Eli pressed play and music filled the room—a melody we all knew by heart but that sounded new in this moment of shared anticipation. My body responded instinctively to the rhythm as I began to dance—the skirt of my dress fluttering around me like wings taking flight. The rhythm took hold of me, the beats and melodies becoming an extension of my very essence. We lost track of time, each practice run melting into the next, refining the dance, perfecting the song. Eli"s touch on the tunes was like a painter adding just the right shades to a masterpiece.

Lena watched me with an expert eye, calling out suggestions that challenged me to push my limits. "Extend your arm more on that spin, Asa. There! That"s it!"

Zara chimed in with her usual organizational flair. "Timing is everything. Remember, the audience"s pulse should sync with your movements."

Their words were both guidance and inspiration as I danced again and again, feeling the music resonate through the apartment. The air was thick with creativity, each note Eli adjusted weaving itself seamlessly into the fabric of the song.

It was past midnight when we finally collapsed onto the cushions, a collective sigh of contentment filling the space between us. My body hummed with a pleasant fatigue, muscles echoing the night"s exertions.

"I think we"ve got it," I murmured, a smile curving my lips.

"You"re going to be amazing," Lena assured me, her belief in me shining bright in her eyes.

Eli nodded in agreement, his gentle voice carrying weight in the quiet room. "You"re ready for tomorrow."

With their encouragement warming my heart, I excused myself to prepare for bed. In one of Lena"s spare bedrooms, nestled under soft sheets, I replayed every moment of our practice session in my mind—each correction, every note change—feeling nothing but gratitude for my friends" dedication.

Then it hit me—I hadn"t told X about the show tomorrow night. The thought of him being there to see me perform sent a thrill through me. Fumbling for my phone in the dark, I typed out a message with eager fingers: Hey, X! I have a show tomorrow night at 11 pm at The Velvet Melody. Would love for you to come and see it. It"s for a masquerade party.

The message sent with a quiet chime into the stillness of the night. I placed my phone back on the nightstand and lay back down, anticipation buzzing under my skin like electricity.

* * *

The humof backstage chatter buzzed around me like a swarm of eager bees as I sat in the makeup chair, facing the mirror, my reflection staring back at me with wide, uncertain eyes. Lena, with her skilled hands and artist"s eye, was transforming my face into a vision that matched the ethereal dress I wore. Around us, the backstage room teemed with other performers, each lost in their own rituals of preparation. Singers ran through their scales, their voices rising and falling like waves against a shore while dancers stretched limbs and twirled, their movements painting the air with anticipation. The thick scent of hairspray mingled with the warmth of stage lights, casting an amber glow over everything.

Lena swept a delicate brush across my cheekbones, adding a shimmer that seemed to capture and reflect the very essence of starlight.

"Keep your eyes closed for a moment," she instructed gently, her voice a calming presence amid the growing noise.

I obeyed, listening as staccato footsteps echoed on the wooden floors, each set growing fainter as performers took their turns on stage. Now and again, the door swung open, letting in snippets of the performances already underway—the thunderous applause and the pulsating music. Some burst back into the room with tales of the masquerade party outside, breathlessly recounting sightings of famous and wealthy attendees.

"Did you see who"s out there? Damien Black himself!" one dancer exclaimed as she flitted back into the room, her eyes wide with exhilaration.

Another performer joined in, her voice tinged with awe, "And Alexander Forte! I heard he"s scouting for new talent tonight."

"The mayor is out there!"

"I just saw the biggest tech mogul in the city!"

With each account, my nerves twisted tighter. The idea that such influential eyes might be upon me when I took the stage made my hands tremble.

Lena"s hand paused on my face, and her eyes met mine in the mirror. "You"re doing that thing where you stop breathing properly," she said with soft concern.

I let out a breath I hadn"t realized I was holding and tried to smile, but it faltered at the edges.

"Do you want to step outside for some fresh air?" Lena asked, tilting her head slightly as she studied my face.

I could only nod, feeling the walls close in around me. Grateful for her understanding, I rose from the chair.

The corridor was a river of bodies, a current of chatter and laughter that swept me along as I struggled against it, seeking the exit. Turning a corner, I collided with a solid form, stumbling backward. Strong hands steadied me, their grip firm yet gentle. My heart hammered in my chest as I regained my balance and looked up to apologize.

"I"m so sorry, I didn"t see—" My voice trailed off as I took in his attire, rich fabrics fitting his frame like they were spun just for him. He wore a masquerade mask like those donned by the guests, a veil of mystery that obscured his identity.

"Are you X?" The question tumbled out before I could stop it, driven by an inexplicable hunch.

He shook his head slightly. "Is X someone you know?"

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling foolish. "Yes, he"s… just someone I met recently." My cheeks warmed at the admission.

Turning to leave, I felt his hand wrap around my arm, a gentle but firm pull that yanked me back against him. My body flushed hot with embarrassment at the unexpected contact. A quick glance around revealed that he had saved me from being in the path of stagehands carrying heavy props, a potential disaster narrowly avoided.

"Thanks," I murmured, keenly aware of our proximity.

"Got to be careful back here," he said, his voice resonating with an authority that sent a shiver down my spine.

As he released me, I caught the scent of his alpha pheromones mingling with the air, a potent aroma that stirred something deep within me. My body responded despite the suppressant pill I had taken earlier. His scent enveloped me in an invisible embrace, igniting a warmth that coursed through my veins.

My pulse quickened as our eyes met for a fleeting moment before I gently removed my arm from his grasp, the touch lingering like an echo on my skin.

"Excuse me," I murmured, eager to escape the stifling heat and the maze of emotions that this stranger had unwittingly stirred within me.

"The makeup room is in the opposite direction," he pointed out, a hint of amusement coloring his tone.

I paused and turned back to face him, my curiosity piqued despite my earlier resolve. "How do you know I"m a performer?" I asked, the words escaping in a whisper.

His gaze drifted over my features, taking in the meticulous artistry of Lena"s work. "Your hair and makeup," he said simply. "They"re too exquisite for you to be just a guest."

A warm blush spread across my cheeks at his compliment. It was strange how someone could see me so clearly when I felt so invisible among the crowd.

"I"m going outside to get some fresh air," I told him, hoping to put an end to our interaction.

He nodded in understanding. "I am too. Would it be all right if I accompany you?"

I hesitated, taken aback by his forwardness. A part of me yearned for solitude, but another was inexplicably drawn to his presence. With a nonchalant shrug, I replied, "You"re free to do as you please. I don"t own the territory outside."

He laughed—a rich, melodious sound that seemed to dance through the air and weave around us like a shared secret, catching me off guard and coaxing my lips into a smile. His eyes crinkled with mirth as he gestured for us to walk together toward the exit.

"After you," he said with an elegant bow that seemed both playful and sincere.

Outside, the crisp night air embraced me like a long-lost friend, the clamor of voices and music fading into a distant echo. It was a welcome respite, the coolness kissing my flushed skin, soothing my frayed nerves. Mr. Alpha Stranger leaned his shoulders against the building, watching me with an attentiveness that felt like a warm blanket. I was acutely aware of his presence, his gaze not intrusive but protective in its own way.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, the familiar ritual of meditation I"d practiced countless times. Inhale deeply… hold… exhale slowly. Each breath was a deliberate step away from the anxiety that had wound itself tightly around my heart.

"You always this nervous before you perform?" His voice cut through the stillness, a soft rumble that somehow grounded me further.

I nodded, opening my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine. "Sometimes," I confessed, "but tonight it"s intense. There are so many important people in there. I can"t afford to mess up."

He nodded in understanding, his expression conveying empathy rather than pity—a subtle distinction that meant everything in that moment.

He pushed off from the wall and took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Remember this—it"s your performance. They don"t define your ability to sing or dance. You"ve spent years honing your craft. The worst that happens? You"re not as good as they expect and you"ll work to improve."

I absorbed his words, feeling their weight and sincerity.

"You"re young," he continued with an encouraging smile. "You"ll have plenty more opportunities if this is truly what you want to do."

His eyes held a glint of humor, as if he was about to share a secret that the night itself was leaning in to hear. "I remember when I was younger," he began, a chuckle threading through his words. "I had stage fright so bad, my knees would knock together like a pair of maracas."

I couldn"t help but let out a small giggle, imagining this confident alpha before me as anything less than sure-footed.

"Oh, it"s true," he insisted, his smile growing wider as he recalled the memory. "I had to speak at this big event—everyone who was anyone was there. And there I was, sweating bullets and ready to bolt."

My laughter faded into a warm smile as I listened, the absurdity of his confession making him seem more human, more relatable.

"So you know what I did?" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I pictured the audience as nothing more than cardboard cutouts. Just lifeless mannequins staring back at me."

The image was so ludicrous that I couldn"t contain the laughter bubbling up inside me. The idea of reducing the esteemed guests to mere props in a storefront window seemed both irreverent and brilliant.

"Thank you," I said between fits of laughter, feeling the tension drain away from me like water through open fingers. "That"s… that"s actually helpful advice."

He shrugged with feigned modesty, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Or," he added with a smirk and a mischievous glint in his eye, "you could just picture them naked. Works for me every time."

The suggestion was so unexpected that my laughter erupted anew, loud and genuine in the quiet night. It felt good to laugh like this—to let go of the worries that had been clinging to me like shadows.

"You finally smile," he observed with a note of satisfaction in his voice.

As our laughter subsided into comfortable chuckles, I took in his smile—warm and familiar in a way that tugged at the edges of my memory. There was something about him, something I couldn"t quite place…

And then it struck me—his bearing, his build… it reminded me of X and also, oddly enough, of the Davenport triplets. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Weird," I murmured under my breath, puzzled by the connection my mind was trying to make.

He raised an eyebrow at my whispered word but didn"t press for an explanation. Instead, he simply smiled at me—a smile that seemed to acknowledge our shared moment of mirth.

I sighed, the laughter still lingering in my smile. As much as I wanted to stay in this quiet moment, reality beckoned. "I should really go back in," I said reluctantly.

He nodded, a gentle understanding in his eyes. "Have fun performing," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to carry the weight of the night.

I smiled at his parting words, struck by how they differed from the typical well-wishes people offered before a show. Most would say good luck or break a leg, but his sentiment felt more profound. Have fun. It reminded me of why I was here in the first place—because I loved singing and dancing, because performing was my passion.

As I headed back inside, I couldn"t help but feel brighter than I had all evening. The nervous energy that had plagued me earlier had dissipated, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose and joy.

With newfound lightness in my step, I pushed open the door to the makeup room and was immediately enveloped in the bustling energy. Zara and Eli were there with Lena, the three of them deep in conversation. As soon as I entered, Lena"s face lit up, and she ushered me back into the chair with an affectionate grip.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, her eyes studying my features. "You look better. Did the fresh air help?"

I nodded, my smile widening. "Yes, I feel much better now."

Eli, his youthful face alight with the kind of excitement that only those who truly love their craft can exhibit, said, "The music is all set. We"re ready whenever you are." His pale eyes mirrored the calm I felt.

At sixteen, Eli was the youngest of us, his age belying the depth of his talent. It was no wonder his adoptive parents, Thomas and Patricia—or Pat, as she preferred to be called—were here to support him. They doted on Eli with an affection that warmed my heart. Their presence tonight wasn"t just to chaperone their underage son; it was a testament to the unwavering support they showered upon him, wanting nothing more than to witness his blossoming talents on full display before such a prestigious audience.

Lena"s hands moved with practiced ease as she put the final touches on my makeup. She stepped back, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she nodded at her handiwork.

"Perfect," she declared. My reflection stared back at me—a vision of shimmer and ethereal beauty I scarcely recognized as myself.

With a wink, she gestured toward the changing area where my dress awaited me. As I slipped into it, the luxurious fabric caressed my skin like a lover"s embrace.

Emerging from behind the curtain, I was greeted by a collective gasp of admiration. Zara"s eyes shone with pride, while Eli regarded me with a warm, familiar smile that spoke volumes of our shared bond.

Pat"s hand flew to her chest, her expression one of pure wonder. "Oh, Asa," she breathed, "you look absolutely radiant."

As I moved to stand beside Eli, our reflections in the mirror caught Pat"s attention. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly as she studied our appearances, our pale locks and delicate features mirroring each other in an almost uncanny resemblance.

"You two look so alike," she mused, her voice laced with a hint of awe. "With your hair and eye color, and that gentle nature… You could almost pass for siblings."

Thomas nodded in agreement, his gaze shifting between Eli and me with a thoughtful expression. "She"s right. The resemblance is quite remarkable."

Lena and Zara chimed in, their voices echoing Pat"s sentiment as they took in our side-by-side reflections. For a fleeting moment, I felt as though I was glimpsing something deeper, a connection that resonated beyond mere physical similarities.

But the spell was broken as Zara clapped her hands together, her ever-efficient demeanor snapping us all back to the present. "All right, people, let"s get this show on the road!"

The backstage assistant manager"s voice cut through the excited chatter, calling out, "Asa, Eli, you"re up in five. Let"s move."

I felt my heart rate spike, a fluttering of wings against my rib cage. But then, Mr. Alpha Stranger"s words echoed in my mind: Have fun performing. I took a deep breath, allowing the memory of his laughter to infuse me with an unexpected calm.

We gathered our things and moved out of the makeup room like a small procession toward the main hall backstage. Lena gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before she let go, and Zara winked at me as if to say, You"ve got this.

I nodded, drawing strength from her unwavering confidence in me. After all, this was what I lived for—the thrill of performance, the chance to lose myself in the music and movement.

As we approached the stage entrance, I took a deep, steadying breath. Eli squeezed my hand, his eyes sparkling with excitement and understanding. We were in this together.

Stepping onto the stage felt like entering another world—a realm where the lights blinded you to the audience beyond, where the music carried you away on its current. The faces out there transformed into cardboard cutouts in my mind"s eye, just as Mr. Alpha Stranger had suggested. It was a trick that worked wonders, and I found myself smiling at the absurdity of it all.

A wave of relief washed over me, and I couldn"t help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. It was working! The anxiety that had gripped me mere moments ago melted away, replaced by a newfound sense of freedom and confidence.

And yet, as my gaze swept across the room, three intense stares seemed to pierce through the illusion, demanding my attention. The first came from a man standing to the left, his broad shoulders and commanding presence unmistakable. Mr. Alpha Stranger was leaning against a column, his posture relaxed yet alert. His suit hugged his frame perfectly, accentuating broad shoulders. A masquerade mask obscured part of his face, but it couldn"t hide his eyes which locked on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

The second gaze belonged to a figure standing to the right, his tall frame clad in an impeccable suit. His posture was casual but confident; he exuded an air of someone used to being listened to. Even with the masquerade mask obscuring his features, there was something achingly familiar about him—a resemblance that tugged at the edges of my memory. Could it be X?

And then there was the man sitting imposingly at the front row center. His powerful aura seemed to envelop the entire room; it was like gravity itself bent around him. He wore a sleek suit that spoke of authority and control with every line and seam. His mask did little to diminish the ardency of his gaze, which was searing into me with a hunger that both thrilled and unnerved me, leaving me breathless.

For a moment, I felt as though these three men were the only real beings in the room, their stares threatening to devour me whole. But then Eli"s voice rang out behind me, the opening notes of our song cutting through the haze of my thoughts.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, letting the music wash over me. The world around me faded away, leaving only the rhythm and the dance that had become as natural as breathing. As I moved and opened my mouth, letting my voice drift out, I surrendered myself to the pure joy of performing, losing myself in the melodies and the sway of my body.