If I Stayed | Christian Yu

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE - EIGHT DAYS LEFT

"She still hasn't reached out?" Kenji asked after a beat.

Christian leaned back against the wall, eyes locked on the horizon. The sky was stuck somewhere between pink and deep blue.

"Not a thing."

"Don't do that. Don't act like that means it's over."

He shrugged. "Maybe it does."

Kenji exhaled slow. "Do you even believe that?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

Another pause.

"You still going to the wedding?" Kenji's tone shifted now - softer.

Christian's head hit the brick wall behind him. Eyes closed.

"No clue."

"I wish I could tell you it'll get easier."

Christian gave a small, bitter laugh. "I've had enough fake comfort to last me a lifetime."

Kenji went quiet again.

Then: "Alright. Then hear this. No matter how this ends, you're still you. And if you need to disappear after all this - overseas, tour, whatever; I'll book the flight myself."

That made Christian smile. For real this time.

"Appreciate that."

"You know I got you."

The silence that followed didn't weigh quite as heavy.

"Get back in there," Kenji finally said. "You've got sh*t to build. Don't let this be the thing that breaks you."

"Never that."

Christian hung up.

Slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Took another breath, longer this time.

Then walked back inside.

The door clicked shut behind him, sealing off the night and dragging him back into the low thump of bass, the rustle of camera crew, and the buzz of dim, red light. It all felt exactly the same.

But he wasn't.

He didn't take off his cap. Just flipped it backwards. Tightened the strap on his gloves. Rolled his shoulders like he could shrug off whatever was clawing at his chest.

"You good?" the director asked from behind the monitor.

Christian gave a small nod.

"Let's hit the last setup," he said. "I wanna lay something down for the outro."

The artist raised a brow from the center of the set.

"You jumping on this?"

Christian moved toward the mic, his smirk barely there.

"Yeah. Why not."

Everyone adjusted without needing more. Lights dimmed deeper. Lens pulled tighter. The energy shifted like the air knew what was coming.

Christian slipped the headphones on, the track already looping low.

The beat hit slow. Heavy. Like it carried more than sound.

He didn't pull out his phone. Didn't check a note. No lyrics scribbled on his palm.

He just stood there.

Eyes closed.

Letting whatever lived in his chest pour straight from the source.

His voice broke through the stillness.