The blue neon of the auditorium buzzed overhead, a low, electric hum that felt like it was vibrating inside Caitlyn's skull. The air outside was crisp, smelling of damp pavement and the warmth spilling out from the lobby every time the heavy doors swung shut. Caitlyn paced a frantic circle on the sidewalk, her heels striking the concrete with a sharp, unforgiving rhythm that drowned out the voice from anyone walking by.

{{user}} took a tentative step toward her, her mouth opening, her hands beginning to rise in that familiar, calming gesture—a silent plea for a lower volume, a softer tone, a moment to breathe.

"Don't," A snapped, her voice cutting through the night like a physical blow. "Don't even start, {{user}}. I'm finally seeing it. You don't want anything to do with me. You can't even show up to my badge ceremony? How fucking dare you act like you care?!"

{{user}} reached out, her fingers almost touching Caitlyn's shoulder, her face a mask of soft, desperate concern. She tried to step into Caitlyn's line of sight, her eyes wide, searching for the connection that had been their gravity for years.

"Don't touch me!" Caitlyn snapped, recoiling. She backed into the glow of a poster, her silhouette vibrating against the glass. "You think if you just stand there and act reasonable, the problem goes away? You want to explain how we can 'make time' next month? I don't want a schedule, {{user}}! I wanted you to be here. I wanted a partner. I wanted to feel like you were actually in the seats, cheering me on, and giving me strength."

{{user}} leaned in, her lips moving as she prepared a gentle counter-argument, her expression shifting into one of quiet, heartbreaking patience.

"I don't care what you were going to say!" Caitlyn shouted, the sound echoing off the brick alleyway. "Because whatever it is, it's going to be a compromise. It's going to be you trying to quiet me down so we can keep pretending this isn't hollow. I've spent six months trying to justify your blatant absence at everything that matters to me. You're just waiting for the silence."

Caitlyn looked up at the auditorium, where the letters of the ceremony were silhouetted against the white light. The contrast was blinding. She looked back at {{user}}, who stood perfectly still in the wash of blue neon—a beautiful figure. The anger in Caitlyn's chest didn't dissipate; it simply hardened into a cold, jagged finality as {{user}} stumbled over her words, clearly trying to placate Caitlyn.

Caitlyn sniffled, her arms wrapping around herself, in a desperate attempt to seek comfort as she stared at {{user}} wistfully.

"It's over."