The night was magic. A glowing moon hung above the prestigious Royal Haven Hotel, blanketing the city skyline in silver. The building glistened like a diamond, its lights dancing across the sleek glass windows. Reporters hustled for coverage. Fans gathered like bees to nectar. Security officers stood like statues—firm and unmoving. Tonight was David Isaac's movie premiere. The biggest event of the season.
And somewhere among the sea of shouting voices and flashing cameras, stood a girl—quiet, shaking, hopeful.
Chisom Eze.
She wasn't famous. She wasn't rich. But she was determined.
The seventeen-year-old's fingers clenched around the straps of her backpack. She adjusted her sweater nervously as her eyes scanned the chaotic hotel lobby.
She was small, not in height, but in presence. Easily missed. Invisible in the sea of glittering gowns and expensive perfume. Her black braids were tied up in a ponytail, and her sneakers squeaked softly on the marble floors as she hurried toward the hotel's main security post.
The guard was tall and stern, dressed in all black with a badge glinting on his chest.
Chisom took a deep breath.
"Good evening, sir," she said, her voice barely audible over the noise.
He turned, eyebrows raised. "Evening."
She hesitated, then asked quickly, "Please… do you know where David Isaac is?"
The man gave her a quick glance, as if to assess her intentions. But seeing the urgency in her eyes, he nodded once. "He just left through the side exit. Headed straight to the underground lot where he parked—with his bouncers."
Chisom's heart jolted.
"Thank you, sir!"
Without another word, she dashed off, her sneakers tapping wildly on the polished floors.
She ran like a girl possessed—past the velvet ropes, past the crowds, past confused staff and gossiping ladies. Every part of her body screamed for her to stop, but she didn't listen. She couldn't.
David Isaac was leaving.
Her idol. Her screen hero. The man whose smile made her forget her problems.
She reached the exit and shoved through the heavy door. The air outside was thick with humidity and perfume and the buzzing of voices. The crowd was even thicker now. Cameras flashed like lightning. Some fans screamed his name. Others chanted it in unison.
"DAVID! DAVID! DAVID!"
She could barely breathe. The air was hot, filled with perfume, sweat, and the heavy scent of excitement.
Chisom shoved her way through the masses, pushing past shoulders and elbows.
"Sir!" she shouted, desperate. "Please wait!"
But no one heard her—not over the roar.
Still, she kept running. Her legs burned, her vision blurred, but she refused to stop. And then—just a few feet ahead—she saw him.
David Isaac.
He stood tall and calm beside his sleek black car, dressed in a tailored navy-blue suit that hugged his broad shoulders like silk. His skin glowed under the lights. His hair was trimmed perfectly. His lips—pink and soft—were everything Chisom had imagined, and more.
He opened the car door casually, unaware of the girl racing toward him through the frenzy.
"Mr. David Isaac!" she cried, nearly breathless. "Please don't go without seeing me!"
He paused.
Chisom froze.
He turned around slowly, his gaze scanning the crowd—until it landed on her.
Their eyes met.
And everything else melted away.
The noise dulled. The lights dimmed. The world stilled.
It was just him.
And her.
"Hi," he said, his voice warm, smooth, familiar.
Chisom took a shaky breath. Her heart was pounding so loud she could hear it in her ears.
"I'm Chisom Eze," she stammered, moving closer. "I… I'm a huge fan of yours."
She extended her hand, trembling. Her entire arm was shaking. But David didn't take it.
Instead, he offered a calm, half-smile.
Chisom lowered her hand quickly, cheeks burning.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've just always dreamed of this. I've watched all your movies. Even your old ones. 'Last Promise,' 'Dark Room,' even that one in French I didn't understand."
He chuckled softly.
"I just really admire you, sir," she said, clutching her phone. "Would it be okay if I take a picture with you? Just one. I won't post it without your permission, I swear."
Before he could answer, a large, muscular arm shoved between them.
A bouncer.
Massive. Intimidating. He wore sunglasses and an earpiece, and his presence was enough to make the crowd shrink back. He pushed Chisom away with one hand.
"Step back, please."
She stumbled, nearly falling, but caught herself. Her lips trembled. She looked back at David with pleading eyes.
To her surprise, he raised a hand gently.
"It's fine," David said to the bouncer.
The man stepped back without a word.
David turned back to her. "You can take a picture. As many as you want."
Chisom almost dropped her phone in shock.
"You mean it?"
He nodded.
Her fingers fumbled as she opened her camera. Her vision was still blurry from the adrenaline, but she managed to steady herself.
She moved beside him, her arm barely touching his.
Her heart thudded in her chest.
He smells amazing. Like mint and something warm—woodsy, maybe expensive cologne.
She glanced up at him. He smiled softly, politely.
She tried not to scream.
"Okay," she said nervously, opening the front camera. "One picture…"
She positioned it carefully, making sure the angle was perfect. Her finger hovered over the shutter button.
"Say cheese…" she whispered, her lips curling into the biggest smile of her life.