Brandon's POV
The air outside was cold — sharp and metallic, like it had been waiting for me to step out just so it could sting.
I didn't even realize I was running until I stopped near the marble railing of the Soundforge building, my breath cutting short, chest seized like it was being squeezed by a fist.
The music still echoed faintly in my head — his voice — Brandon's voice.
It felt like it was still living somewhere inside me, rent free. Everything came gushing at me. Every scene replaying rapidly. the way he looked at me when he sang that last line, the one that ripped right through every wall I thought I built.
My palms went cold. My body trembled. I didn't know if I wanted to cry or laugh or throw up,.
He sang like he meant every word.
Like the world had fallen away and only I existed.
But how could that be?
How could he stand on stage, look me dead in the eye, and say he couldn't breathe without me — when just days ago, he said those hurtful things to me.
