We met in the unlikeliest of places. The second floor lounge of the Russian Samovar. A high school friend of mine was hosting an artist showcase. Her band was the headliner. There she was standing center stage. Commanding the crowd. Completely in her element. And there I was, sitting front row. Phone in hand. Tracking her every move. She had my undivided attention. I recorded the entire set. Every song. As if it were the last time I’d ever hear them. The show came to an end. I knew I had to say something. So I waited for the crowd to die down. Saw my opening and took it. “Great job. You killed it!” Smooth, Justin. In hindsight, I wish I had said something cooler. Like “When’s your next show. I need to see you again.” Or “You don’t know me, but I’m your #1 fan.” Her response was short, but her delivery was cool. “Thanks so much, man.” Her Nuyorican was showing. And I ate it all up. That night was the first time we met. The first unlikely exchange of many. A Puerto Rican Queen from Brooklyn meets a South Korean Boy from Jersey in the second floor lounge of the Russian Samovar. Yeah, our story is an unlikely one. And that’s exactly how we like it.