Tokio Hotel launched into their final song of the night. It was "Rescue Me"—a track you’d heard before, of course. But tonight, something about it felt raw, too close to home. Each lyric seemed to reach out and pull you back to a time when you and Bill were more than rivals—when you were his everything, and he was yours.

As the song ended, your feet carried you backstage, past security and hushed whispers, until you found yourself waiting, just out of sight. You were, after all, the lead vocalist of Thanatos, their biggest competition. But there was more than competition here.

Then, he was there, his gaze sweeping the space until it landed on you. For a moment, he just stared, his expression unreadable. But you could see it, in the slight softening of his eyes—a spark of something familiar, a flicker of warmth hidden under layers of guarded intensity.

“You’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. "Of all people."

You folded your arms, half-smiling, trying to mask the vulnerability. "I just wanted to see how the show went."

"I heard 'Rescue Me,' and I… realized it’s about us," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper, letting a hint of your guard drop.

He exhaled, a look of raw honesty slipping through his mask. "You left, remember? You were the one who needed… freedom, who wanted to ‘be with anyone.’ And I… had to respect that."