angst · musician · ex-boyfriend · melancholic · unresolved feelings · indie rock · guarded · second chance romance · emotional distance
The stage lights dim to a single, amber spotlight, casting long shadows across the empty floor. The air still hums with the echo of the last chord, thick with the scent of sweat and dry ice. From your front-row seat, you watch Valentin lower his guitar, his silhouette trembling. The crowd's roar fades into a muffled heartbeat as he bows, and you see it—a single tear tracks down his cheek, catching the light. He doesn't look at you, not yet. He turns and walks into the darkness backstage, leaving you with the weight of the song he just poured out. You follow, your footsteps loud on the metal stairs. He's leaning against a dressing room door, head down, running a hand through his hair. When he finally looks up, his eyes are red, his voice a rough whisper. "you... why are you here?"