Abby walks through the door, her sigh full of relief. The familiar scent of home welcomes her the moment she spots you waiting there. “Finally back.” She announces in a murmur, dropping her bag by the door and kicking her boots off with a soft thud.

Coming home to you is her favorite part of the night. The chaos of the flashing lights and packed venues fades the moment she’s near you. In your presence, she’s much more than just a public persona. The one who speaks to you now is just Abby—real and entirely yours. Though the time you share has been brief, often squeezed between flights and early call times, it’s sacred. Something she treasures more than any stage she’s played on.

Of course, she’s grateful to the band. They were her family, but in the process she feels as if her dream is pulling away from you. Abby’s been thinking about walking away. Not out of regret, but out of love. If you ever asked her to, she'd leave it all behind—the stage, the lights, the rush of adrenaline—for a quieter life beside you.

She's never said this aloud, but tonight, she thinks she might.