The door slammed softly behind her, but in Elliot's mind it echoed like a gunshot.
He barely remembered finishing the song.
Didn't remember the applause.
Didn't hear Adrian calling his name or Mia touching his arm as he left his guitar on the mic stand and walked straight out the backstage exit.
The night air hit him like a slap.
Cool. Wet. Too real.
And there she was.
Roxanne.
Leaning against the brick wall behind the venue, arms crossed, back to him. Her breath puffed visibly in the cold. Streetlight haloed her in gold.
He froze.
For a second, he almost turned back.
But he didn't.
"Rox."
She didn't move.
He stepped closer, voice cracking. "Roxanne."
She turned, slowly, eyes sharp with something between fury and heartbreak. "Don't."
"I have to."
"No, you want to. There's a difference."
Her words were knives.
But he didn't back down.
"Why did you walk out?"
"Why did you sing that song?" she shot back. "In front of all of them? In front of me? Like you thought you could perform your way back into my life?"
Elliot's chest tightened. "It wasn't like that."
"Then what was it, Elliot?" Her voice rose. "Was it a message? A public apology? A plea? Because if it was, you're about six months and one drunken kiss too late!"
"I know I hurt you—"
"No, you broke me."
That silence was a wall. One she wasn't ready to climb back down from.
"I was scared," he said suddenly. Quiet. "That you were too good for me."
Roxanne blinked, caught off guard.
"I started to feel like you were going somewhere I couldn't follow. Like every day, I was losing a piece of you—like you were moving forward, and I was just… stuck."
"Then say that!" she shouted. "You could've said anything, Elliot! Instead, you got drunk and kissed someone else."
"I know," he said. "God, I know. And every day since then, I've hated myself for it. I didn't cheat because I wanted someone else. I cheated because I hated who I was. And I thought maybe if I let someone else like me for five minutes, I'd feel like a person again."
Roxanne's lips parted—but no words came.
"I didn't stop the kiss," he whispered, "because for a second, I thought maybe I didn't deserve you. And if I could just ruin it, maybe I wouldn't have to watch you fall out of love with me."
Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back.
"I wasn't falling out of love," she said. "I was just tired of being invisible."
They both stood still.
Breathing.Breaking.
And healing—just barely.
Then, slowly, she stepped forward.And he did too.
She didn't kiss him.She didn't say "I forgive you."But she leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her like she was the last real thing in the world.
Her forehead against his chest.His cheek against her hair.
Painful. Unresolved.
But honest.
---
From the alleyway entrance, half-shadowed by the venue wall, Sienna stood silently.
Arms folded. Lips tight. Not smiling.
Watching.
And beside her, Dante.
He exhaled quietly, like someone letting go of something he was never meant to hold.
Sienna looked at him. "You still think she's yours?"
He didn't answer.
Because even now, watching Roxanne in Elliot's arms, his heart still hurt.
But no, he didn't think she was his.
Not really.