Thana let him stay the night. He didn't try anything. Neither did she.
They lay back to back in the dark, not touching, but sharing silence in a way that felt intimate.
Around 3 a.m., she spoke.
"I used to have a stalker," she said.
Andres stilled.
"In Paris. Not violent, just... persistent. Always at my shows. Always sending things."
"What happened?"
"I confronted him."
"And?"
"Never saw him again."
Andres waited. But she didn't elaborate.
Then she turned toward him, her voice softer. "You ever feel like people only love the version of you they made up in their heads?"
"Yes," Andres said. "And I make sure I play the part perfectly."
She was quiet after that.