The rhythm dropped—a classic, swaying lovers rock groove. Her voice slid over the music like honey over warm toast. She sang about the long nights, the pride she was ready to drop, and the simple, soulful promise to fix what was broken.
JC stepped off the stage before the applause even faded. She didn't go to the dressing room. She walked straight to the edge of the stage, reaching out a hand. Marcus took it, the rhythm of the music still humming between their palms. The song was over, but the conversation had finally begun. JC Lodge, Make it up to You. (Reggae)
"This one is for a special heart in the room," she whispered into the mic. The rhythm dropped—a classic, swaying lovers rock groove
The bassline hummed through the floorboards of the Blue Lagoon Club, a deep, rhythmic pulse that felt like a heartbeat. JC Lodge stood backstage, adjusting her gold hoop earrings and smoothing the silk of her emerald dress. She could hear the crowd murmuring, the clinking of glasses, and the distant, sweet scent of jerk chicken wafting in from the street. JC stepped off the stage before the applause even faded