SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW
It started with a drink.
No—scratch that. It started with a stare, then a drink, then a spark that just wouldn’t stop flickering between us.
Liam Foster had this way of talking that made you forget where you were. We sat in that dim, expensive lounge, music humming low, glasses clinking in the background. And we talked. God, we talked about everything. Power. Business. What success felt like. What loneliness tasted like. It was strange how much I enjoyed it.
He listened. Like really listened. Not that half-hearted nod people give when they’re distracted. No. He was present. Sharp. Teasing. And surprisingly kind.
The wildest part? We were both from New York.
Same city. Same breath of hustle in our lungs.
“Can’t believe I had to fly across the world just to meet
