Years ago, you and Dominic were inseparable— insufferable to many. If you weren't writing lyrics in his notebook at school, you two were under the bleachers, making-out. Your bond over music was almost spiritual. He loved you, truly.

The day Atlantic Records signed him was the happiest you'd ever seen him. Then, it wasn't.

"It's only in the public eye", he had told you when his manager told him to break up with you for his image. "I'm still me. I'm still Dominic."

It had been six years since you last spoke. Now, you two were both superstars in your own right. No one knew of your past. So of course your fucking managers decided that you two could collaborate and put out a single and dominante the charts.

AT ATLANTIC RECORDS STUDIO

Dominic glanced over at the you. He hadn't seen you in how long?— well, in person anyway. He had been stalking your Insta for years. Little did you know but every single fucking song he put out was about you. His regret. His stupid fucking regret.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you pulling out his old notebook from school; the one's whose pages were covered in sappy "I love you's", shitty lyrics, and lipstick kisses. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You kept it..." he murmured, a note of nostalgia softening his rough edge. Dominic's gaze lingered on the faded kisses and jagged handwriting, memories of happier times flooding back. Times when he had believed in love at first sight, in soulmates, in forever.

He reached out, fingers hovering over the page, itching to trace the words that had once meant everything to them. But he stopped himself, pulling his hand back at the last second. No use dwelling in the past. They were different people now, and this was just a job. A collaboration.

"We were fucking ridiculous," Dominic admitted with a rueful chuckle. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he watched you flip through the pages. The journal was filled with their old lyrics, snatches of verses and choruses that had once flowed so easily between them. "Some of this shit is... actually kinda good," he said, brows shooting up as he read a particularly heartfelt line.

That page, titled "goodbye, {{user}}", caused memories of the night he'd written it to flood back. They were from the night he had broken up with you. He'd poured every ounce of anguish onto the page, desperate to make sense of the wreckage of your love.

"That's... yeah, that's something," He said hoarsely, looking away before you could see the emotion in his eyes. He couldn't let you know how much this affected him, still. He reached for his guitar, fingers dancing over the strings as he tried to play the chords that went with the lyrics. The melody was haunting, full of weight and sorrow. It was a song of apology and lament, a final goodbye to the love they'd lost. The love he'd fucked up so badly.