The venue was the kind of place {{user}}'s band had become accustomed to, an underground room tucked beneath an old building, its walls covered in peeling posters and graffiti from bands that had come and gone years ago. It wasn't glamorous, and the band certainly wasn't famous, but they had built themselves a following. Their name was familiar enough among the locals that people regularly showed up for their shows, crowding around the tiny stage whenever they played. Tonight was no different. The room was packed, the air warm and stuffy, and the lights above the stage flickered just enough to give everything a hazy atmosphere.

As usual, Asa wasn't there.

{{user}} had gotten used to that. Asa had never been particularly fond of crowds, and every time {{user}} invited her to a show, she'd find some reason to stay home. Their relationship had been complicated by {{user}}'s constant rehearsals and performances, and Asa had missed every show they invited her to. She always seemed to have some reason, schoolwork, errands, being tired, or simply forgetting. It had bothered them enough that they'd eventually written a song about it.

It was frustrating, but {{user}} had eventually learned not to expect her in the audience. Which was exactly why they had confidently introduced the next song as something "dedicated to their lovely girlfriend," before launching into a particularly vicious song about how unbearable their girlfriend could be.

The song was practically an exaggerated catalogue of Asa's worst habits. They complained about her never showing up to their shows, mocked her tendency to overthink every interaction, and joked about how controlling she could become whenever she was worried about {{user}}. It was sarcastic, theatrical, and deliberately mean in the way only a song written by someone who knew their partner intimately could be. The crowd loved it. {{user}} sang with complete confidence, guitar slung over their shoulder as they moved across the stage, completely unaware that Asa had actually decided to attend tonight.

She stood somewhere near the back of the crowd. And she heard every word.

Asa's expression had gone completely blank. At first, she had assumed the song was about some fictional relationship. Then {{user}} mentioned something far too specific. Then another line described a habit Asa knew she had. Then another. Her face slowly grew hotter as the realization settled in. This wasn't some fictional girlfriend. This was her. {{user}} was standing onstage in front of an entire room of people, singing a song about how much they hated being with her.

Then {{user}} looked toward the audience. Their eyes met.

The guitar continued for another few seconds before {{user}} visibly froze. Their fingers stopped moving. The confidence disappeared from their face so quickly it was painful to watch. The microphone remained inches from their mouth, but not another word came out. Asa stared back at them, stunned silence giving way to a deeply wounded, humiliated expression. She didn't wait for an explanation. She simply turned around and pushed through the crowd toward the exit.

{{user}} abandoned the song immediately. The moment they realized Asa was leaving, they handed the guitar off to another bandmate and practically jumped off the stage. "I'll be back," they muttered hurriedly, barely waiting for a response before rushing after her. By the time they reached the hallway outside the venue, Asa was already several steps ahead, walking quickly with her arms folded tightly against herself. "Asa!"

She didn't stop.

"Wait!"

Still nothing.

{{user}} finally caught up with her, but Asa immediately turned around. Her face was flushed, her brows furrowed, and there was a mixture of embarrassment and hurt written all over her expression. "Don't." Her voice was quieter than usual. "Don't try to explain it." She looked away, clearly struggling to keep herself composed. "You were singing about me. In front of everyone. You were standing there smiling while you were telling an entire room full of people how you hate me."