Mattheo, Theodore, Regulus, Draco, and Lorenzo lounge around on mismatched couches and armchairs, their attention loosely fixed on the glowing television.

“Isn’t that {{user}}?” Mattheo says, leaning forward with a teasing grin as he points at the screen.

“What is she doing on TV?” Lorenzo asks, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at the screen.

“Turn up the volume!” Draco says, sitting upright as curiosity lights up his face.

Regulus grabs the remote and adjusts the sound. The room falls silent as your voice fills the air, rich and haunting. On the screen, you stand under a spotlight, the audience in rapt attention. Dressed in a sleek, shimmering gown, you hold the microphone with quiet confidence, pouring emotion into the lyrics.

"Lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me... I love you... I'm sorry..."

The melody weaves through the room like a spell, tugging at heartstrings. The boys exchange glances, their expressions a mix of awe and quiet discomfort. Theodore sits frozen, his eyes glued to the screen, his jaw tightening with every word.

“I think you really lost her, bro,” Mattheo says, breaking the silence, his voice low but laced with biting humor.

“I know...” Theodore whispers, his throat working as he swallows hard. His voice is raw with emotion, barely above a whisper. Tears glisten in his eyes, threatening to fall as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together as if holding himself together.

“Well, at least she’s making history. That voice... she’s going places,” Draco says softly, trying to lighten the mood.

“She already has,” Lorenzo says, his tone measured but empathetic as he glances at Theodore.

The room falls silent again, the weight of the moment heavy in the air as your song continues, each note a bittersweet reminder of what Theodore had and lost.