PERFECT SYNC
"Congratulations, Xavier," Taylor said, clinking his glass with other members of the board as they celebrated yet another achievement for SEON Engineering.
Xavier, a young and brilliant engineer, is the founder and CEO of SEON Engineering. His charisma draws investors, and his wit opens their wallets. His 6'2" athletic build commands any room at entry, so neither the company's success nor the attention he receives surprised anyone.
“Oh, come on, Taylor, it’s a win for us all.” Xavier waved off the praise with his usual modest smile. The board chuckled; they knew this was just his proud way of sharing the spotlight. “You know what?” he announced, pushing his chair back. “Let’s go out tonight. A real celebration—not this corporate dinner. A wild one. All on me. What do you guys say?”
And there he was—the Xavier they all knew, always finding an excuse to have ‘fun.’ But who cared? He worked hard; he could, as well, play hard.
The team headed to The Medusa, a three-star lounge ninety minutes from the office. This was the real Xavier. He could afford the stuffiest five-star treatment, but tonight called for a wilder vibe. In his expert opinion, five-star establishments never have the right kind of pulse.
The Medusa, unlike every other night, boomed with nothing but 2010s anthems. The SEON team surrendered to the night: hair laid down, ties untied, voices loudly singing to every song. It was a whirlwind of shots, dance, and songs till dusk. But the man of the hour couldn’t go home as he came. He needed some arm candy; after all, this was his main reason for choosing the place.
Just as the opening synth of Usher’s “DJ’s Got Us Fallin’ In Love Again” pulsed through the speakers. He found himself locking eyes with a stunning woman across the floor—a magnetic grin, a raised brow, and they were suddenly duetting. Line after line, they met and matched each other’s energy and dance moves with a perfect, almost pre-rehearsed sync. It was electric.
Later, over drinks in a corner booth, he learned her name was Aliyah. He was intrigued by the old soul she carried, even though she was fifteen years younger. He couldn't help but wonder what had shaped her depth. She had recently begun working at Nixon as a business consultant. She clarified that this was her first night out in the new city and that she was eager to start over. She told her story as the discussion progressed. Adopted after her biological mother died five years after her birth, she was profoundly grateful to Linda and Paul, who took her in. Yet she was always haunted by the question: how and where was her dad?
This wasn't the first sad story Xavier heard from a lonely young woman. He leaned in, lowering his voice to a practiced, comforting murmur. Xavier enjoyed these times because he felt important and in charge when he helped women forget their suffering. "Hey," he said with his charm at ten. His fingers moved under her chin, drawing her attention to him before she could respond. His intense, dark eyes provided artificial depth. "The past is past," he muttered. "Let me help you forget it."
For a heartbeat, Aliyah seemed to melt into the moment, disarmed by the force of his presence and the intensity of his gaze.
But just as quickly, a flicker—a sharp, intuitive warning—crossed her features. She didn't pull away, but the connection shifted. Their previous sync became a silent battle of wills. "You are not that girl," she told herself. But maybe just for one night.
