The city felt different now.
Quieter.
Or maybe it was just them.
Jayden and Amara moved slowly down the empty street.
No footsteps behind.
No voices.
No headlights chasing them.
For the first time since everything started—
They weren't being hunted.
At least…
Not right now.
But safety didn't mean okay.
Jayden's weight leaned heavier on Amara with every step.
His breathing was uneven.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
"We need a hospital," she said quickly.
Jayden shook his head immediately.
"No.
"You're losing blood," she insisted.
"I said no," he repeated, firmer this time.
"They'll find me there."
His voice dropped lower.
"Places like that… too open."
Too many eyes.
Too many questions.
Jayden swallowed hard.
Then said—
"…take me to the studio."
Amara frowned.
"The studio?"
"Yes."
"Just go," he said quietly.
"I know someone there."
They managed to find a ride.
Not clean.
Not safe.
But enough.
And within minutes—
They were moving again.
The studio lights were still on.
Low music playing in the background.
A familiar space.
A different world from everything outside.
The door burst open.
Jayden barely holding himself up.
Amara supporting him fully now.
"Yo—what the hell?!"
The producer rushed forward immediately.
Eyes wide.
"What happened to you?!"
"Later…" Jayden muttered.
"Just… help me."
The producer looked at the blood.
The wound.
Then back at Jayden.
"Man, this ain't something I can fix."
Jayden grabbed his shirt slightly.
"You know somebody."
A pause.
Then the producer nodded slowly.
"…yeah."
"Stay here."
He grabbed his keys and rushed out.
Amara helped Jayden sit down.
Carefully.
Gently.
For a moment—
It was quiet.
Just the hum of studio equipment.
And Jayden's breathing.
"You always live like this?" Amara asked softly.
Jayden gave a weak smirk.
"…you picked a bad night to find out."
She didn't smile.
Didn't joke.
Because now she saw it clearly—
This wasn't new for him.
This was his life.
Footsteps.
Fast.
The producer rushed back in—
With a woman behind him.
Older.
Serious.
Focused.
She took one look at Jayden—
And got to work.
"Lay him down."
Jayden clenched his jaw.
Hard.
As she started.
No anesthesia.
No comfort.
Just pressure.
Pain.
And precision.
She couldn't look fully—
But she couldn't look away either.
Minutes felt like hours.
Jayden's grip tightened on the table.
Breathing heavy.
But he didn't scream.
Didn't break.
"It's out," the nurse said.
Bandage.
Wrap.
Stabilize.
Jayden's body finally gave in.
Not death.
Not defeat.
Just exhaustion.
Jayden's eyes opened slowly.
Blurry.
Heavy.
The studio.
Same place.
Different feeling.
The producer sat nearby.
Watching him.
"Took you long enough," he said.
Trying to lighten it.
"…how long?"
"Few hours."
The producer leaned forward.
"There's something I gotta tell you."
Jayden frowned slightly.
"What?"
"I been trying to reach you all day."
A pause.
Then—
"I got a call."
"From a major label."
Jayden blinked slowly.
Processing.
"They want you."
And just like that—
In the middle of blood, pain, and chaos…
Everything was about to change.