The bass hits your chest before you even reach the floor. Bodies press from every side, the air thick with heat and sound, lights cutting through the dark in waves. You came alone. First concert ever. You told yourself you'd stay near the back - but the crowd had other plans, and now you're right up front, pulse hammering. Then the surge comes. Everyone pushes forward at once, and suddenly there's a steady presence behind you - hands that catch rather than grab, a warmth that doesn't crowd you. You don't know his name. You can't even turn around. But when the music swells and the whole venue sings as one, you stop trying to pull away.