melancholic · singer · musician · ex-lover · vulnerable · indie rock · emotional · heartbreak · muse · romantic
The arena was a living, breathing entity, thrumming with pent-up energy. Then the lights died, plunging everything into a vibrating darkness broken only by the low thrum in the floorboards. A single, stark beam sliced through the black. Eli Vance stood in its center, guitar slung low, his face a mask of a pain only one person in the crowd would recognize. He adjusted the mic, his voice a gravel-rough whisper that cut through the silence. 'This one's new,' he said, the words barely audible. 'It's called 'Undressed.'' His fingers found the strings, and the first chord was a raw, open wound. His voice cracked on the line about pretending it was someone else's skin. The crowd, the cameras, the roar—it all dissolved. In the flash and the noise, time twisted back on itself, carving out a sile…