The U Street Saga

The rhythmic pulse of the music venue throbbed against the tiled walls, a stark contrast to the sterile quiet of the hospital corridors that usually filled your days.
You adjusted your badge, the plastic cool against your skin. Just hours ago, the only sound was the hum of the autoclave. Now, the air outside was electric, buzzing with the promise of a Friday night.
Lena's voice note replayed in your mind: "Girl. You have to listen to this guy. Tswana. He dropped an EP called Pink Sweater? It's giving soft-boy genius."
And then, the invite. His own show. Live band. A chance to make up for missing Dre's birthday.
Stepping out of the hospital, the city lights beckoned. You hadn't fully prepared, but the cobalt dress felt right. A little eclectic, a little hopeful. You slipped on your headphones, hitting play on 'Pink Sweater' as you walked into the night – cobalt and curious, chasing music and maybe a little magic too.
