The arena was alive with a contagious energy as the crowd continued to pour in, slowly filling up every seat, every inch of space. The murmur of excitement filled the air, rising in volume as the lights flickered on and off, teasing the audience into anticipation. Backstage, the atmosphere was tense, but not in the way most would expect. Emily could feel the familiar rush of nerves, but it was more of a thrilling tightness in her chest than fear. She had been on stages countless times before, but tonight was different. Tonight, she was going to do something she had never dared before.

She stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her leather jacket, running her fingers through her long, platinum-blonde hair, and checking that everything was perfect. But it wasn’t the jacket or the hair that kept her focus. It was the thought of them, as it always was. Her mind drifted to the way they had been with her every step of the way. From the early days when Emily was just another struggling artist, fighting to be heard in the chaos of the industry, to now—where everything had changed, and yet, the one constant was their presence.

She thought about all the late nights spent in the studio, the quiet conversations that always felt more like a refuge than anything else. There was a warmth to them that Emily could never quite explain. It was more than just friendship. It had been growing for a long time, too long for Emily to ignore it anymore. There was a deep affection, a longing that Emily hadn’t had the courage to voice until now. Tonight would be the night. After the concert, once the last note had faded, she would finally tell them how she truly felt. She had to. She couldn’t keep carrying it with her any longer.

The sound of the crowd outside grew louder as Emily’s thoughts refocused. It was time. She made her way toward the stage entrance, pausing just before stepping into the spotlight. Her heart thudded in her chest, but it wasn’t fear. It was something else. She stepped out into the arena, greeted by the blinding lights that cut through the darkness, her heart lifting with the cheers of the crowd. The music kicked in, and she was lost in the rhythm, the familiar rush of performing taking over. She could feel the energy surge through her body, could see the faces in the crowd, but her eyes—her focus—always landed on one person.

They were there. She had always known where to find them, no matter how big the crowd or how loud the cheers. They were always there, right in the front, always supporting her. Tonight was no different. Emily caught their eye from across the stage, their smile cutting through the sea of faces like a lighthouse in a storm. That smile—the one that made everything else feel so insignificant—was all she needed. She was going to tell them how she felt, after this performance.

The music swelled as Emily’s voice rang out over the audience, each word a release, a moment of pure freedom. But even in the rush of performing, Emily’s heart remained tied to that one gaze. She could feel it—the connection that had always been there, even if they had never acknowledged it. She could feel it now more than ever, as if the entire world had narrowed down to this one moment in time. She could tell that something had changed inside her, but what exactly? She couldn’t find the words, but she didn’t need to. She knew, deep down, that they understood her in a way no one else ever had.

The crowd roared with excitement as the concert reached its peak, their energy pushing Emily to sing with even more passion. The lights above flickered and spun, casting fleeting shadows over her face. The music was alive, a force of its own, moving with the crowd’s every cheer. But then, in the midst of it all, something unexpected happened. A loud, cracking sound echoed from above. Emily barely had time to react before the stage lighting rig above her trembled, creaked, and then—without warning—began to fall.

The screeching of metal, the sound of the rig snapping from its chains, was like a thunderclap in the middle of the night. The crowd screamed, the lights flickering wildly, and Emily’s heart raced as she turned her head just in time to see the massive rig plummeting toward her. Everything seemed to slow down, each moment stretching on infinitely as the heavy structure descended. She couldn’t move fast enough. She tried to step back, to dodge it, but it was too late. The lighting rig struck the stage with a deafening crash, and everything went dark.

The world went silent.

When Emily finally opened her eyes, the soft beeping of medical equipment filled her ears. She blinked slowly, her vision blurry, her head pounding. It took a few moments for her to realize where she was. The bright white walls, the sterile smell of antiseptic—she was in a hospital. A sharp, dull pain throbbed in her ribs as she shifted slightly, and then, she noticed it—the warmth of a hand in hers. She turned her head, struggling to focus, and saw a familiar face staring down at her, eyes red and filled with concern. Her heart twisted painfully, but there was something else—something more unsettling.

“Emily...” the voice was soft, almost too quiet, but it wasn’t a voice she recognized, not in the way she expected. She frowned, trying to place it. Who was this person?

But it wasn’t just the voice that confused her. It was the look in their eyes. The way they were holding her hand, so tenderly, as if they knew her. But she didn’t know them. Not like this.

“Have we met?” she whispered hoarsely, the words tasting strange on her tongue. There was no recognition in her thoughts. The name, the face—nothing clicked.

The person’s face fell, as if her words had shattered something, something important. They didn’t say anything right away, just continued holding her hand, looking at her with eyes that seemed to hold a lifetime of memories. Emily could feel the weight of it, but there was nothing else. She couldn’t remember.