The hall had gone so quiet you could hear the faint electrical hum from the overhead lights.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Three.
Five thousand pairs of eyes were nailed to the solitary figure standing center stage, black silk dress catching the spotlight like spilled ink.
Then Elena spoke.
"Welcome to my launch party."
Her voice floated out soft and clear, almost intimate, as though she were speaking to each person individually. "Thank you for coming today… to celebrate the release of my album, *Rebirth*."
Silence again. Thicker this time.
She lowered the microphone slowly. Her gaze drifted across the rows—patient, unhurried, almost curious. And then, very gently, she smiled.
It was the smallest lift of lips, nothing dramatic.
But something in the room cracked open like glass under sudden pressure.
A girl in the third row let out a strangled squeak. "It's— it's really her… oh my god…"
"She's actually here…"
"She looks even prettier than the photos—"
"I can't breathe—"
