The showcase arrived on a cold winter evening, the air crisp and sharp, the city lights casting long shadows on the snow-covered streets. Inside the theatre, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. The audience's murmurs formed a low hum, mingling with the chill of the night.

I stepped onto the stage, the blinding lights was just nothing more than an assault on my eyes. They hadn't gotten a proper rest in a bit, for all those nights I was busy crying. To a point I knew I had no tears left.

I took a deep breath, centering myself in the sea of brightness. In the corner of my vision, I saw you seated at your piano, your head bowed, fingers poised over the keys. This was to be our final dance, the end of many things: me, us, and our little world. And I would cherish every bit of it before it's all gone.

The stage was set for our final dance, a moment that would mark the end of many things-me, us, and the little world we had created together. The lights dimmed, casting a soft, melancholic glow over the polished wooden floor. The first note pierced the silence, and I felt its resonance deep in my bones.

I moved, my body flowing with the music as if it were an extension of your soul. Every step, every twirl, was infused with the weight of our unspoken goodbyes.

My costume, a shear blend of white and deep blue, fluttered around me like a whisper of the ocean waves, catching the light and reflecting it back in shades of sorrow. The fabric clung to my skin, accentuating the lines of my body as I spun, leaping into the air, defying gravity for a brief, breathless moment.

The spotlight followed my every move, a single beam of light illuminating the darkened stage, casting long, dramatic shadows that flickered like ghosts of our past. The air was thick with tension, each note you played winding tighter around my heart.

My movements became more frantic, desperate to hold on to every second, every beat of the music that bound us together.

The dance was grand, every movement precise yet filled with a raw, aching emotion. My feet skimmed the floor as I glided across the stage, my arms reaching out as if to grasp something just out of reach-something that was slipping away faster than I could hold onto it. I spun again, faster this time, my vision blurring as I became lost in the momentum.

And then, the final notes began to play, slower, sadder, a farewell in every chord. My body trembled with the strain of holding everything in, of keeping myself together when all I wanted to do was break apart.

With one final twirl, my knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the stage, the polished wood cold against my skin as the last note faded into silence. The curtain began to descend, shrouding me in darkness just as the first tear slipped down my cheek.

The audience erupted into wild applause, their cheers and claps mingling with the lingering echoes of our final performance. But all I could hear was your footsteps, urgent and heavy, as you dashed across the stage toward me. Fear was etched into your features as you called my name.

"Ahen..."

I flinched at the sound of your voice, my body trembling with the weight of my emotions. Your hands cupped my chin gently, lifting my face to meet yours, your eyes full of worry and heartbreak.

"Ahen, what's wrong?" you asked, your voice soft yet urgent. You pulled me into your arms, your warmth seeping into my cold, shaking frame. "Breathe, Ahen. Just breathe."

I tried, but each breath came shallow and ragged. "I'm sorry," I whispered, the words spilling out like a broken record. "I'm so sorry."

"Ahen, baby..." You held me tighter, your voice steady as you anchored me. "It's okay. Just breathe with me."

I focused on your voice, on the steady rise and fall of your chest against mine. Slowly, the chaos in my mind began to ease.

More footsteps approached, whispers cutting through the haze, but you blocked them all out. Someone lifted me from the floor, and you kept me steady, never letting go.

"Let's get you somewhere quieter," you murmured. Turning to the onlookers, you called out, "Can someone grab some water, please?"

When we reached the dressing room, you eased me down to the floor and splashed cool water on my face. You dabbed at my lips with your fingertips, each touch tender and grounding. Blurred figures hovered in the background, but I only saw you.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled again, the words trembling on my lips.

"I know, Ahen," you replied softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Now stop apologizing."

"I didn't mean to push you away," I choked out, my voice cracking.

"But you did," you said, your tone calm but laced with the faintest edge of hurt.

"Don't be mad," I pleaded, my voice desperate. "I was just trying to protect you."

Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you let out a shaky breath. "I'm not mad, Ahen. But it's frustrating—so frustrating—that you think I need protecting."

"You do!" I insisted, the words catching in my throat. "My mom is a crazy woman. She does what she says, Garret. If she wants us apart, she'll make it happen."

Your brow furrowed. "What did she say?"

I hesitated, my voice barely a whisper. "You don't want to know."

"Does she want me dead?" you asked, but there was no fear in your tone—only curiosity.

"She'd do anything to separate us," I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. "And Timothy is backing her in whatever crazy shit she wants to do. You don't understand how far she'll go."

"Ahen, you should've known better. I didn't need your protection. I needed you."

"You're so full of yourself," I snapped, trying to pull away, but you held me steady.

You studied me, your expression softening. A faint smile tugged at your lips as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

"When you called me black and white, was it just about my apartment?"

"You're literally black and white, Garret. Not just your apartment or the piano keys you play—you, yourself, are black and white. Not the boring kind. The kind I thought I could add color to," I admitted, my voice breaking.

Your gaze softened, a hint of a smile breaking through the tension. "You can, Ahen. You still can."

"I don't want you dead," I whispered, my voice trembling.

You chuckled, the sound light and oddly comforting. "You seriously think Timothy and your mom can kill me?"

"You're so damn full of yourself, Garret. What do you think—"

"So, do you not need me?" you interrupted, your voice quieter now. "Will you be fine if I leave the country and never come back as planned? Are you gonna keep hiding forever? Won't you figh for me?"

"I want to—but I–I" The thought was unbearable. My chest tightened, and fresh tears blurred my vision.

The thought shattered me. It was unimaginable. I wouldn't survive. I wasn't brave enough to let you go, no matter how much I pretended otherwise. New waves of tears welled up, blurring your face. "Shh...Shh...Cry baby..." You place a finger on my lips, shushing me.

"I don't want to lose you," I whispered, the words heavy with vulnerability.

"You won't," you said, your voice steady. You shifted a warm towel over my face, wiping away my tears. "I don't want to lose you either. But you have to trust me. Just hold on. Nothing can separate us if you do that. Can you?"

I nodded, though my voice trembled. "How? How will you stop them?"

You smiled weakly. "That's my secret. For now."

"You're not making sense," I said, my voice cracking. "Are you drunk?"

"Rich, coming from a drunkard," you teased, your chuckle soft as you wiped another tear from my cheek. "Just promise me you'll hold on to me. No matter what."

"I promise," I whispered, my voice breaking again.

"You're an idiot, Ahen Lefevre. But you're my idiot."

Without another word, you cupped my face in your hands and kissed me. It wasn't just a kiss—it was an outpouring of everything we had held back. Pain, love, longing, and hope collided in that single moment.

When we pulled apart, your forehead rested against mine. "I love you, Ahen. More than you'll ever know," you whispered.

Tears continued streaming down my face, but they mingled with the warmth of your love. "I love you more," I replied, my voice steady for the first time.

You smiled. "In my black-and-white world, you're the color I've always needed, Ahen."

"And if my mom tries something?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Then it'll be the last mistake she ever makes," you said, your voice calm but deadly.

I froze, my breath catching. "What are you saying?"

You leaned closer, your eyes hard, unyielding. "I'm not just someone who plays piano and loves you, Ahen. I'm someone who knows how to make threats like hers disappear."

My heart pounded in my chest. "You're scaring me, Garret."

"Good," you murmured, your gaze piercing through me. "Because when it comes to you, Ahen, I'm not afraid to end this—once and for all."

The room seemed to tilt, the weight of your words sinking in. And for the first time, I wasn't sure what terrified me more—the danger that awaited us or the darkness flickering behind your eyes.

Before I could respond, your phone buzzed. You glanced at it, then back at me, your jaw tightening.

"They're here."