Wen Ning watched him glide across the stage beautifully.

He glowed under the lights, hair cutting across the air and his clothes fluttering around his body.

Beautiful. Graceful. Perfect.

Finally, the performance came to a close as he gave a shimmering smile to the audience and tossed a rose from his hair into the audience.

Wen Ning caught it on reflex. He received a wink and smile for his efforts.

He shyly returned the smile as he cradled the flower close. It was foolish.

As he leaned on a table in his tux, he focused solely on the flower twirled in his fingertips. Glancing up, he watched a man twirl across the dance floor with his son and his partner.

A tear streamed down his cheek, and a bitter smile crossed his face.

He glanced around, seeing two women slide across the floor like they were born for it. Wen Ning was glad they were happy.

He saw two men lost in their own rhythm and caught up in each other's eyes.

Soon his eyes were back on the flower. It was as lonely as he.

His eyes slipped shut up, patiently waiting. Soon they reopened as he drove a sleepy pair home.

The wind gently swept his hair in a dance, and the lights caressed him as he made the journey down the road. The moon lit the path, and the stars kindly contributed with their own soft glow.

Glancing at the sleeping faces resting in the mirror, he turned back to the road.

A quiet door opened as he guided the two exhausted bodies inside. He moved them to his guest room and gently tucked the pair in bed after undressing them to a comfortable degree.

Soft eyes gazed at the wedding ring on one of his guest's fingers. He turned away.

Still in his hand, he held the single rose.

The door remained cracked, with a soft light peeking inside.

Soft footsteps echoed the empty halls. A door opened but never closed. The rose found a new home in a glass of fresh water.

Finally, his attention is on something new—his precious piano.

A body leaned on the door frame.

A silent invite for company.

He nodded. Quickly providing a violin and sheet music.

Worldlessly and near soundlessly, they prepared.

Soft steps, rustling paper, the shift of clothing, a gentle thud...

Missing the small body watching from the door, his practiced fingers danced across the ivory keys.

https://youtu.be/LD6ePgLagcU

"I was fine...with the men, who would come into his life now and again."

Was he fine? No, but he never lost hope. Never stopped fighting.

"I was fine, 'cause I knew...that they didn't really matter until you." His head glanced at the wall.

Towards the direction where his older guest now slept peacefully with that ring on his finger.

"I was fine when you came..." He wasn't.

Not when he saw that look of love...of utter enchantment. He knew a war was raged at that moment.

"...And we fought like it was all some silly game, over him...who he'd choose. After all those years, I never thought I'd lose..." A lie. He knew he would.

He has always lost in the battle of his beloved's heart. Always would...but he hoped...

A tear dripped down his face as he fought off more.

"It's over, isn't it?"

It is.

"Isn't it...?"

It is.

"Isn't it over?"

It was...he was his love's best man at their wedding...

"It's over, isn't it?"

It is.

"Isn't it...?"

It is.

"Isn't it over?"

It was...they adopted a wonderful son, his cousin, and he takes care of him often when they're busy.

He struggled not to choke on his emotions. On his tears...

"You won, and he chose you and he loved and he's gone..."

He's gone...no longer his to yearn for. To treasure. Protect...

To love...

"It's over, isn't it?"

He lost.

"Why can't I move on?"

Tears blinded him, but he knew each note, each key by heart, for they were his heart on display...

His hair blew back as his mind drifted to older memories of their first lives together. For even back then...even back then...

In the blur of emotions, he realized his friend started playing his violin. Scrubbing his tears, he straightened his posture, and his face turned cold.

"War and glory, reinvention...fusion, freedom, his attention..." He remembered those days, the love and care his angel gave him, he remembers fighting for him...he was his proudest creation, after all.

"Out in daylight, my potential. Bold. Precise. Experimental." He was perfect, practically unstoppable. Loyal to a fault and warm despite the coldness his body gave off.

But now or then...it never mattered. He lost...he was unwanted. His love, his angel, was gone.

His heart taken and cherished by another.

And he was left behind...again...

His anger showed in his playing as the song became more aggressive.

"Who am I now in this world without him? Petty and dull, on a whim to doubt him."

'We'll always be together!' No, they won't! Open your eyes!

"What does it matter? It's already done! Now I've got to be there for his son..."

That sweet boy was the only reason he himself wasn't truly gone. He loves him more than life itself.

He'll always be there for him.

Slowly he calmed back down.

"It's over, isn't it?"

It is.

"Isn't it...?"

It is...

"Isn't it over...?"

It was...they were a family...his angel was happy. That happiness just doesn't include him. He lost...

"It's over, isn't it?"

It is.

"Isn't it...?"

It is...

"Isn't it over?"

It was over from the start, and he knew it, but he still wanted to try...to give fate the finger and just prove that he deserves love too!

Doesn't he...?

"You won! And he chose you and he loved you and he's gone~!" As he held the note, he unleashed all the anger and emotions he's kept silent for years.

He finally lets it leave his heart and enter into the open air.

"It's over, isn't it? Why can't I move on?"

His head dropped.

His tears dripped on his hand, and the piano trying to play their own song.

He took a moment to breathe as he tilted his head back.

"It's over, isn't it...? Why can't I move on...?"

As they played out, the small body watching them hid his sobbing and silently returned to the room.

Silently sobbing into his father's side.

After a few minutes, the door opened once more, and he went still.

"Little wiggle worm..." Soft arms tucked him back in bed, and gentle lips kissed his temple. "Good night, sweetheart..."

Soon the door was cracked again, and the footsteps faded.

The boy felt his father pull him closer as the man shed his own silent tears.

By morning they felt a third body in bed, and all of them were summoned by the smell of food.

They saw the home's owner making plates perfected for each of them. Giving one a spicy ass breakfast with a coffee, one a much less flavorful dish with a simple tea, and the last a super yummy breakfast and some juice.

Taking a trey to a room, he returned empty-handed and sat down on the couch, not eating or drinking anything.

One of the occupants at the table frowned at the obvious distance put between them all and him.

Looking at his partner, his eyes narrowed, and he raised an eyebrow.

The man simply shook his head in response.

His frown never left his face, and soon they left with his friend avoiding all physical contact. He didn't even look him in the eyes. Only giving the little boy a hug and a kiss.

And that's how it went for a month. He cared for the little boy and minimized contact with his parents.

However, even with his limited contact, he could see his friends neglecting their self-care and the prominent debilitating states they went into. Begrudgingly he forced them back to [perfect health but then went back to minimal contact.

For his own heart's sake, he had to move on. It was over.

Unfortunately, his friends don't give up easily, so a month later, he was invited to another performance.

He was next to their little boy in the front row. As the curtain rose, he saw his ange...his friend was doing ballet this time and saw his lover on piano and their other friend on violin.

As the piano began, he recognized the tune immediately because it was his...even without the lyrics he knew. That was his heart they were performing!

He watched him gorgeously fly, twirl, flip, and slide across the stage. Completely unmatched in his craft. The dance showed his own emotional journey with the song.

The heartbreak, sadness, bitterness, anger, brokenness, and eventual hollow acceptance all turned into stunning body movements.

Soon his lover tossed his friend something that he jumped and caught, twirling to his feet in a stunning show of balance. As the song came to a close, he danced his way over to him and their son.

Finally, he could see the object he caught was, in fact, a bouquet of fresh red roses. Soon, he looked him right in the eyes and threw him the bouquet which he, of course, caught.

Looking in the flowers, he saw a notecard. Gently plucking it, he read it. "We love you, Wen Ning. It's not over. -Wei Ying & Lan Zhan"

Slowly looking up at Wei Ying, the dancer nodded with a confident smile, and Lan Zhan gave him the same look in his own way.

Tears dripped down his face again, but this time a beautiful smile finally accompanied it.

Maybe he hasn't quite lost yet.

After all, it's not over, perhaps it's just the beginning.