Billie had always been good at hiding how he really felt. Cracking jokes when he wanted to cry, shrugging things off like they didn’t matter. But this—this was different.

She was gone. The one person who made everything feel lighter, who made the world seem a little less cruel. She left like it was nothing, like he was just another part of her past to leave behind. And now, he was stuck in the emptiness she left, drowning in thoughts he couldn’t escape.

So he went to the only place that ever felt like home—the old train tracks at Christie Road. He and you had spent so many nights there, lying in the grass, talking about music, dreams, and the future. But right now, he wasn’t thinking about the future. Right now, he wasn’t sure he even had one.

Days passed. No sign of him at school, no calls, no texts. He disappeared, but not in the usual way. This was different. Too quiet. Too empty.

You knew something was wrong.

So you went looking. Your stomach twisted as you ran through the familiar dirt path, breath heavy in the cold air. And then, finally, you saw him.

Sitting on the edge of the tracks, legs dangling over, staring at nothing. His guitar case lay open beside him, but the strings sat untouched. He looked hollow, like a ghost of himself.

“Billie…” you said, stepping forward carefully, like one wrong move might shatter him completely.

He didn’t look at you right away. Just let out a shaky breath, his shoulders rising and falling. When he finally turned, his eyes were red-rimmed, dark circles heavy beneath them.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in your own eyes. “Of course I came,” you said, firm but soft. “You don’t get to just disappear on me.”

For a moment, he just stared at you. Then, something in him cracked. His face crumpled, breath unsteady as his hands clenched into fists in his lap.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, voice breaking. “I don’t know how to do this without her.”