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I exhale and let the first beat roll in—Benji’s soft chord progression easing me into the memory I haven’t been able to outrun since Mya woke up.

I close my eyes.

And I sing.

I didn’t know I was falling

’Til I was already on the ground

You were the sky I never reached for

Until silence was the only sound

I told myself you were better off

Without the mess I make of things

But I watched you breathe for both of us

And it broke me clean at the seams

The first verse bleeds into the chorus, and my voice cracks where it’s supposed to. Honest. Raw. Like every word costs something. Because it does.

You loved me when I wasn’t worthy

Waited when I couldn’t wait

I tried to run, you stayed steady

Even when I came too late

You were the anchor, I was the wave

Now I just want to stay

Let me be the name

You choose to say

I open my eyes on the last line, and through the glass, I see her.

Mya.

Hand pressed to her mouth. Shoulders trembling.

Carson doesn’t cut in. No one says a word. Not even when I step out, shaking, still caught in the aftershock of what I just gave away.

The guys pat me on the back, rough and wordless. They know. They feel it.

But it’s Mya who meets me halfway across the room, eyes shining.

“That was you,” she whispers.

I nod once. “Every syllable.”

Her breath catches, and for a second, I think she might walk away.

Instead, she steps into my space, presses her forehead to mine, and just holds me there.