This time when my eyes opened to the vacant, white room, I wasn't surprised. I didn't even have to force myself to recall anything. Because I remembered it all so vividly: arriving at Frazer's; him opening his door and me falling into his awaiting arms; the tub of ice cream and large glass of water he planted in front of me; and his assurances that I barely revealed anything worthy of a scandal.

This time, I showered and accepted a pair of his clean clothes before climbing into bed in his spare room.

And this time when I woke up, I stumbled back to the bathroom and took another shower, washing the sleep and the remnants of alcohol that felt like it was permeating my skin.

There was a text on my phone from Lottie when I got out, asking why I called and what eventuated with Jared. Though I ignored it.

Instead, I grabbed my things from the room, shuffled down the very familiar hallway, and didn't even hesitate when I rounded the corner from the foyer into his dining room.

He was already there waiting. The same breakfast spread laid out, a place for me at the table, his face adorning a warm, welcoming smile.

"Coffee?" he asked in place of a greeting, handing me a cup, freshly brewed—as if he heard the shower and made haste at preparing it.

"Thanks," I uttered as I accepted the mug, bringing it almost instantly to my lips. Its bitterness was just what I needed.

He didn't say anything as he picked at the spread in front of us, assembling a toast with some salami. It was as though he was waiting to see what I wanted to talk about first.

Yet rather than addressing the large, pink elephant in the room I knew he so desperately wanted to discuss, I started with, "I heard you're finding a new manager? Or is that just a rumour?"

"No. It's true," he said, slightly shocked, slightly disappointed.

"Why?"

He took a bite, slowly chewing his food, before he explained, "My last one did a great job at making me successful. But I don't think they really cared about me." His eyes flickered up, meeting mine for a brief moment, but it was enough for me to read the unsaid.

His manager was always desperate to keep me hidden, to make Frazer prioritise his gigs over his friends and family, to fill his schedule so there was no time for him.

"Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "Lottie said it's why you're back."

He paused again, this time staring at me for longer. Though, as if he thought he misheard me, he guffawed, "You think I came back to Townsville to look for a new manager?"

"Lottie said you came back here to look for one."

After setting his toast back on his plate, the corners of his lips turned up and he leaned on one fist, his eyes never leaving me this time. "Townsville isn't exactly rolling in people who are experienced in managing high-profile celebrities, you know."

I scoffed before rolling my eyes. "Okay, hot shot."

"What I'm saying is... I didn't come back here for that."

I bit the corner of my lip, wanting to ask the question I knew he was trying to pry from me. But instead I reached for a piece of toast, loading it up with margarine and Vegemite.

"My mum is actually in charge of managing me at the moment," he eventually filled the silence. "Her first orders when I fired Karen were to come home, to rest, to heal, to... fix my broken bridges."

"So you're still following your manager's orders?" Even if we were currently talking, even if I owed him after last night, I wasn't going to let him convince me he cared... that any of this had to do with me or us.

"Given that this manager actually cares for my well-being and knows what my heart has so desperately desired to do... yes. At first I told her it was too late. But she told me it was better late than never."

"Hmm," was all I managed to give back.

We were quiet for a few moments, as though he were waiting for me to say something else. But when I didn't, he went on with, "She's not permanently my manager. Just for a few months. I've left her in charge to find me the next one... This time I'm determined to find someone who will ensure my happiness before my career. I mean, I've almost made enough to have me set for life, so I'm not looking for someone who is going to make me squillions... I just want to balance doing what I enjoy with the life I still want to live... with the people I want to live with."

As he prattled, I realised we were both delaying the inevitable now. It was time to rip off the bandaid and finally say everything left unsaid—to find that final closure and end this chapter of us. So I finally muttered, "I hope you find that happiness you're looking for."

"... I hope I get that happiness again. With you."

I sighed and met his awaiting eyes—deep, green, glum, and greedy. "I told you that won't happen."

"I know... I understand why. And I'm not asking you to forgive me... as your ex-boyfriend. As your once-best-friend, I'd be mad at you if you forgave me for that. I had a few tasks as your lover that were unnegotiable, that are expected. One of such was simply being there when you needed me. Another was ensuring I was able to take responsibility for the consequences of our intimacy. And I let you down big time. I am so deeply sorry that I left you alone like that. And you shouldn't ever forgive me for that."

My eyes were welling with tears, and I didn't want to look at him. Though as his hands gripped mine across the table, I couldn't help but meet his gaze—glistening just as much, if not more, than mine.

"I was such a stupid, naive, and self-centred fool for thinking that you could always wait for me. That we'd overcome any hurdle when I found time for it... How silly of me to think I could plan when to resolve our obstacles. But as two people who were once also best friends... I wish you could forgive me as a friend. That you'd let me be in your life, even if on the outskirts. That you'll keep me updated on your highs and lows, even if it's just the footnotes." The tears unashamedly made their way out of his eyes, cascading down his smooth, tanned skin, before dropping off onto the table.

I'd be lying if I said he hadn't melted my resolve a little with his sincerity. But I couldn't help shaking the fact that, "You say this now, but the moment you're gone again, you'll forget me."

"No." He shook his head. "I won't make that mistake again."

"But you have. We've had this conversation before. We've—"

"How can I do that again when I know what my last mistake cost me? I lost you. I lost us. I lost... a child."

My head whipped away as the last words fell out of his mouth, and my hands retreated, feeling burned by the memory. I never wanted to think of it like that. It was simply a menstrual cycle that needed to be forced. Not a life that I had taken. Not—

"I'm sorry..." he was apologising again. "I didn't mean to bring up unpleasant memories for you. I should have thought before I spoke. I just—"

"Why did you write that damn song?" I retorted with, wiping the wetness that now clouded my eyes and stained my cheeks. "Why do you keep singing such things?"

"What things?"

"Things we've said. That I've said. Manifesting this world where we end up together, or that things weren't as bad as they seemed, or that I'm the villain in this all because I can't forgive you?"

"You're not the villain. I am."

"I won't, 'Let you hit rewind'. I'm the one who 'forgot you'. Or—my favourite—'A monster waiting for the right moment to attack, you fucking bitch threw me in a ditch.'"

He paused, as if waiting for me to spit anything else at him, before he said, "To be fair, I never sang that last one."

"It was in your song."

"I didn't write the bridge either. That was Rapper X."

"It's still the same characters in the song."

"Not all my songs are truth either... I fictionalise a lot. I omit. I add. You know that."

"Yes. I know you add."

"And you can't just take singular lines out of context. The rest of Not in Tune is about blaming myself and begging you to take me back."

"But you still paint me as—"

"The person hurt. And Can't Forget similarly acknowledges that I messed up. Though I just don't know the cause. Once again, I'm begging you to hear me—"

"Well stop begging!" I all but shouted. "Stop... calling. Stop texting. Stop singing about me... Just... let me go."

He was quiet for an immeasurable amount of time. So long that my coffee went cold. So long that I was certain I had finally broken through. That he'd concede. That he'd give up. But then he said, "I will never stop hoping for you to give me an ounce of your time."

"But... why?"

"You know why."

I shook my head.

"I love you, Emilia. You were my first love, only love... love of my life."

"You will find other loves. Better loves."

"I don't want to. I want you."

"Well you don't get to have me. You burned that bridge beyond repair."

"... I know. You've made that clear."

It felt like we were at an impasse. That we were going in circles. That we were performing the same dance, again, and again, and again. He apologises. I refuse. He wants me back. I refuse. He can't let me go. I refuse... How could I end this endless cycle? "We've spoken now. I should go. I—"

"I wrote another song... Other than Not in Tune. Mum said I shouldn't release it because it will definitely cause a scandal and turn fans against me. But if you want... I'll release it for you. If you really want me to make myself the monster."

My lips pursed, the curiosity eating at me. "I'm not asking you to defame yourself. I just... want you to let me go."

"I—"

"Can't. Yeah. You've said that. I can't be your lover again, Frazer. I don't trust you to ever look after my heart again. Not after all the times you abused it."

"... I understand."

"But I don't think I can be your friend either."

This time he said nothing, yet his eyes said everything as they welled with water and oozed with sorrow and regret.

"You were a good friend. Before everything... but looking at you brings back so much pain. It reminds me of the worst point in my life. Of how lonely I felt... I just can't."

He nodded, shaking some tears down in the process. Sniffling, he wiped at his face and cleared his throat. "Then... before we say goodbye... can I give you some of your things?"

"My things?" I didn't recall him having anything of mine worthwhile. His mum dropped off a box months ago with any remnants that remained in Frazer's room.

Rather than explaining, he pushed off from the table and exited the room, leaving me alone in the wide space to think. To dwell. To ruminate on whether I had been too harsh... if I was making the right choice here.