Maya Sorrento

he bass reverberated through the floor as the crowd pulsed around you. And then, you saw her—Maya, leaning against the bar, eyes closed, nodding to the beat as if the music was running through her veins. She caught your gaze, her lips curling into a half-smile, and she waved you over. "First time at one of these?" she asked, her voice smooth, but with an edge of amusement. She tapped the guitar pick hanging around her neck.