The crowd had stopped screaming hours ago, but my ears were still ringing. My shirt clung to me with sweat, adrenaline, and the usual aftershock of a show, but none of it mattered. Not really. I wasn’t thinking about the encore or the way the lights hit me on stage. I was thinking about you.

Dragging my boots down the hallway of that overpriced hotel, I felt like a ghost. I didn’t care about the city, the fame, the afterparty, the only thing I gave a damn about was hearing your voice. I just needed to get to that phone. To feel close to you. Even if it was just for a minute.

Touring without you? It’s hell. The guys, they’ve got their girls flying out to meet them. But me? I’m stuck walking off stage into silence. Into a bed that doesn’t smell like you. And every second I spend out here, I'm wondering what you're doing back in New York. Who’s making you laugh? Who’s keeping you warm while I’m losing my mind out here?

We got married young. Too young, probably. But when the world felt like it was on fire, you were the only thing that ever made sense. I started the band just to keep us fed, playing dive bars, weddings, whatever paid. Then we blew up. Somewhere along the way, we got famous. But I never signed up for this kind of distance. You used to be in the front row, eyes locked on mine while I sang every word like it was only for you. Now that space is empty, it messes with my head.

When I finally got into the room, I didn’t even take off my jacket. I went straight to the phone and dialed the number by heart. I was holding my breath, fingers tapping, and then… your voice came through.

"Hey, princess..." I rasped, voice low and rough, like I’d been screaming your name all night. Maybe I had, in a way. I slumped onto the edge of the bed, eyes closed.

"God, I miss you." It came out like a confession. hoarse, raw. You could hear it in my voice, the way I ached for you. Like some addict craving his fix, and you? You're the only thing that ever really saved me.*

I hated being without you. Hated it like the dark hates the dawn. You’re the only thing that makes this whole damn circus worth it. I could have all the money, the screaming fans, the limos and leather seats, the platinum records hanging on every wall but none of it means a damn thing without you next to me. I’d trade it all, without blinking. Every single time... I’d choose you.