The girl the front row
Chapter One — The Girl in the Front Row
The stadium was shaking.
Thousands of voices rose together as the lights dropped, the entire crowd erupting into screams the second the opening notes filled the air.
She stood pressed against the barricade, right at the front.
For weeks, she had been counting down to this night. Now that she was actually there, surrounded by flashing lights, screaming fans, and the heavy bass vibrating through her chest, it hardly felt real.
Then he appeared.
The Weeknd stepped onto the stage, and the stadium practically exploded.
She smiled before she could stop herself.
For the next two hours, she barely looked away.
She sang along to every song she knew, laughed with the friends beside her, and occasionally caught herself staring at the stage in disbelief. The lights swept over the crowd constantly, but every now and then, they seemed to pause over the front row.
And eventually, they paused over her.
He noticed her.
At first, she didn't think anything of it.
There were thousands of people watching him. Of course his eyes moved around the crowd.
But then it happened again.
During one song, his gaze seemed to settle directly on her.
She froze.
He held it for a second longer than before before turning back toward the stage.
Her heart raced.
No way.
She tried to convince herself she was imagining it.
But later, when the lights came up again, she caught him looking toward her side of the barricade.
This time, there was no mistaking it.
He smiled.
She instinctively smiled back.
The rest of the show passed in a blur.
Eventually, the final song began. The stadium sang every word with him, voices echoing into the night. She watched the stage as confetti drifted through the air, knowing the night was almost over.
When the final note faded, he gave the crowd one last look.
And for the briefest moment, his eyes found hers again.
Then the lights went out.
The crowd slowly began to move toward the exits.
She followed her friends through the stadium, still buzzing from the concert, replaying every little moment in her head.
Especially the looks.
"You're seriously still thinking about it?" her friend teased.
She laughed. "I'm not."
"You absolutely are."
They reached the stadium doors and stepped outside into the cool night air.
She took a deep breath.
The concert was over.
Or at least, she thought it was.
"Excuse me?"
She turned.
A man in a black suit stood a few feet away, looking like security.
"Are you—" He glanced at a phone in his hand before looking back at her. "Are you the girl who was standing front row?"
Her stomach dropped.
"Um... yes?"
He nodded.
"Someone would like to speak with you."
Her friends immediately exchanged looks.
"Who?" she asked.
The man gave a small smile.
"The Weeknd."
For a second, she couldn't move.
Her friends stared at her.
"You're joking."
"I'm not."
He gestured toward a quieter area beside the stadium.
She hesitated, then followed him.
A few minutes later, she saw him standing near a waiting car, surrounded by members of his team.
He looked different offstage. Calmer. Less untouchable.
His eyes found hers almost immediately.
"Hey."
She swallowed.
"Hi."
He smiled.
"I saw you tonight."
She laughed nervously. "I figured."
"You were having a good time."
"I was."
He nodded, glancing briefly toward his team before looking back at her.
"We're having a party tonight. A few people from the show, friends, some of the crew."
He paused.
"You should come."
She stared at him.
"Me?"
He smiled.
"Yeah. You."
Her heart hammered.
Behind her, her friends were practically losing their minds.
She looked at the car, then back at him.
For the first time that night, she wondered if the concert had only been the beginning.
"Well?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Are you coming?"
