In Which
He wants to buy her guitar.
or
In which
Her guitar brings them together.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
In a forgotten corner of the city sits a little record shop, filled with dusty shelves, the scent of coffee, and the girl who keeps it alive. She's twenty-tw...
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🎸
So Far So Fake -
♪ ༘⋆"Be still your heart, and do not resuscitate
In the end, you took it all away from me"˚࿐₊˚
⚡︎⚡︎⚡︎
The last note lingered in the Echo Room long after my fingers had released the strings. I stood frozen for a fraction of a second, letting the sound echo into the corners of the room, feeling the vibration in my chest. Applause rose up, scattered and warm, but somehow distant. My vision felt slightly blurred, my ears ringing with the adrenaline of performing, the intensity of my own heartbeat still pulsing in my veins.
I set my guitar down carefully, hands trembling slightly as I closed the case. My legs felt weak, though not with exhaustion — no, this was something else. This was the rush of baring a piece of myself in front of a crowd that suddenly seemed vast, and yet... something was missing.
I scanned the audience, searching automatically for him, my heart instinctively reaching out for Jay. And he wasn't there.
A tight knot of disappointment formed in my stomach, sharper than I had expected. He had said he was excited, had promised he wanted to see this song, the one I'd spent so many late nights perfecting, rewriting, and practicing until every note felt like it was stitched into my soul. And now he was gone, somewhere backstage.
I blinked away the sting of sudden, raw disappointment. I could still feel the warmth of Minhee's hand, still hear the faint hum of applause, and yet the emptiness of Jay's absence gnawed at me.
"Byeol!"
Minhee's voice broke through my thoughts, crisp and firm, tugging me back into the present. I turned to see her still seated in the crowd, a grin stretched across her face as if she could see through every flinch of my nerves and every tremor of my soul.
"Where is he?" I asked quietly, my voice betraying a nervous edge I hadn't expected.
Minhee's grin softened, and she leaned closer. "He... uh... he went backstage. With Nari. They said they wanted to watch you from there, get a better view, you know?"
My chest twisted slightly at the words. Nari. Of course. My stomach sank as I tried to push away a flicker of unease. "Oh... okay." I forced a small nod, attempting to convince myself it was fine, that it didn't matter, that I had performed for myself and not for anyone else.
But Minhee didn't miss my hesitation. She nudged me gently. "Come on, let's go see them. You want to see them, right?"
I took a shaky breath, forcing my hands to stop trembling as I adjusted my guitar case strap and followed her. The backstage area was narrow, dimly lit, a little chaotic with cables coiled on the floor, empty water bottles, and gear cases stacked along the walls. The faint scent of sweat and old wood mingled with the lingering fragrance of performers' perfume and cologne.
