Lacy — Lennon Xander Corvus //free\\

"I'm not most people," Lacy replied. She signaled the bartender for two glasses, then hopped up onto the edge of the stage with an easy grace that surprised him. She sat cross-legged near the setlist, looking down at him. "It’s technically perfect, Xander. But you’re playing it safe. You’re not finishing the story."

Xander struck a discordant note, paused, and then looked up. His gaze cut through the smoke and the shadows, landing directly on her. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—not a smirk of arrogance, but of recognition. He adjusted the mic stand. lacy lennon xander corvus

Xander Corvus sat on a stool, his posture relaxed but intent. He had the kind of presence that commanded attention without demanding it—dark hair swept back, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms wrapped in leather straps and tattoos. He wasn't playing the setlist the manager had begged for. He was playing something slower, something improvisational that felt like a conversation held in a language only he understood. "I'm not most people," Lacy replied