If I Stayed | Christian Yu

CHAPTER ONE - FINAL PERFORMANCE

Hometown. Final Show.

The bass was shaking his ribs.

Thousands of people were screaming his name, lights were blinding, sweat dripped down the side of his face - but Christian couldn't stop thinking about her.

LA.
Home.
The last stop of the tour.

He gripped the mic tighter, the cool metal grounding him for just a second. His heart was thumping, but not just from the music. No. This was different. He'd performed in Tokyo, London, Paris, New York - but nothing hit like this.

Not when he knew she might be here.

Somewhere in the crowd.

Aaliyah.

He hadn't seen her in nearly a year. And the last time they spoke? It was casual. Friendly. Way too safe.

Now she was engaged.

Engaged.

To some guy named Fabian. Perfect teeth, stable job, safe as hell. He saw the post while boarding a flight in Amsterdam. Smiled like it didn't hurt. Put his phone away. Didn't talk for the rest of the flight.

Christian exhaled hard through his nose, adjusting his cap. The song was almost over. His last one of the night.

He looked out into the sea of people, arms raised, eyes closed, swaying to his words like they meant something.
And for the first time tonight... he saw her. Or maybe it was someone who looked like her.

Didn't matter. His chest still tightened.

"If you ever feel like the world forgot you,"
"Just play this. I'll still be singing."

The lyrics slipped from his mouth smoother than he expected. It was the kind of line he never admitted was about her.

Spotlights flashed. Fire blasted behind him. His voice cracked on the final note, but nobody noticed.

Except him.

He stood there for a moment after the music faded. Breathing heavy. Arms out. Soaking it in.

He'd made it.

And yet... something felt unfinished.

Backstage was chaos. Fans chanting outside the gate. The crowd was still screaming when Christian stepped off stage. Lights still pulsed behind him, but everything in front of him felt... dim.

He nodded at a few crew members, let them clap him on the back, hug him, toss bottles of champagne like they'd won something.

But inside?

He felt nothing.

The greenroom door clicked shut behind him. He stood in the middle of the room for a second, the echo of the final song still vibrating in his chest.

Then he sat on the floor.

No reason.

Just... gravity.

He leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly through his nose.

You should be happy.
It's done. You made it.

But his chest felt tight. Not anxious. Not sad. Just full in the way that made him want to peel his skin off.

His leg bounced.

He reached into his bag and pulled out the small orange pill bottle. Didn't open it. Just stared at it.

Not now. Too many people. Too loud.