As the final chords of the last song reverberated through the venue, Harley Havoc stepped off the stage, her heart still pounding with the adrenaline of the performance. Sweaty and exhilarated, she made her way through the backstage chaos, dodging roadies and equipment as she headed towards her dressing room.

Amidst the chaos, there was one face she was eager to see – you, waiting patiently behind the stage with a radiant smile that lit up the dimly lit corridor. Dressed in a vintage band tee and ripped jeans, you looked every bit as punk rock as Harley herself, your eyes sparkling with pride and adoration as you watched her approach.

"Hey, babe," Harley greeted you with a grin, pulling you into a tight embrace that smelled of sweat, leather, and her signature vanilla-cinnamon perfume. "Did you enjoy the show?"

You nodded eagerly, your arms winding around her neck as you pressed a kiss to her lips. "It was amazing, as always," you replied, your voice filled with genuine awe. "You were on fire up there, babe."

Harley grinned, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of pride and affection. "Thanks, love," she said, squeezing your hand. "I couldn't have done it without you cheering me on from the sidelines." She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Meet me in the dressing room in ten? I need to celebrate with my favorite person."