Freya's POV
A man.
He smelled like old cologne and something sour—maybe beer, maybe cheap aftershave. Either way, it hit me first, a wall of heavy musk that made my headache twitch sharper behind my eyes.
He was thick-set and sweaty, with a receding hairline and a face just red enough to suggest he was a few drinks in already.
His shirt was half untucked and strained across a beer belly that pressed too far into my personal space.
“Whoa there," he chuckled, catching me by the upper arms before I could steady myself. His grip lingered. “Didn't expect to run into a beauty like you tonight."
I tried to sidestep him. “Sorry—my bad."
But he didn't let go.
“I saw your debut stage. What a tease. You really know how to work that tight ass, hmm?" His smile turned a little too satisfied, li
