The lights were soft, just a golden glow over the stage. You were there, in the audience, but also somewhere else: in his voice, in the lyrics of Creep, in every chord that had haunted you since everything went to hell.

Thom stood at the center of the stage, his slender silhouette outlined against the light. His fingers floated over the microphone, his voice breaking through the air with that mix of pain and nostalgia.

"You're just like an angel..."

You knew that "angel" had once been you. You knew it from the first time he played that song with his eyes locked onto yours, with that gaze that felt like a whisper between screams. Now, his eyes wandered over the crowd, but every now and then, they found you again, as if his memory still stumbled upon you.

The music hurt. It hurt because you couldn't change the inevitable, because all the love and longing hadn’t been enough. Once, you were his world. Now, you were just a shadow in the crowd, a ghost in the melody of a song that would always belong to both of you.