“This next song is one I wrote about four years ago. You might recognise it,” I told my crowd, watching as their cheers and chants grew louder. “I gave it to Ariana Grande, and she sings it beautifully… but tonight, I thought I’d play you my version. This is ‘Just a Little Bit of Your Heart.’”

As the instrumental filled the venue, I opened my mouth to sing the first notes, my chest tight as I struggled to steady the shakiness in my voice. That song made my chest ache, all of my raw emotions bled into the lyrics I’d written when I was only nineteen.

That song was about you.

As it continued, I felt my unshed tears threatening to spill. I usually refrained from performing it, but I had already added it to my set list before I found out you’d be there that night.

Niall had brought you along to my concert. The two of you had always remained close after our band parted ways.

I couldn’t say the same for us.

In the early days of One Direction, you and I had grown close. Very close. You had understood me in ways nobody else seemed to. Our bond—our connection—had been something special. Something that couldn’t be replicated.

Our friendship had blossomed into much more. You had been everything I’d ever wanted and never knew I needed.

I had loved you more than any words in any language’s dictionary could express.

And you had felt the same way.

Management had hated us being together—hated that two members of the band were romantically involved. They had said our relationship would ‘disrupt our group dynamic.’ In their eyes, it hadn’t been appropriate for the two of us to date each other.

You and I had been made to have PR relationships when fans started speculating that we were dating because of how close we were.

I had fake relationships with models. You had fake relationships with actors.

All of that had put a massive strain on our bond, and we inevitably drifted apart. Being in PR relationships with other people caused us to grow bitter and resentful towards each other. We had spat venomous words at each other with the same lips that had previously kissed every inch of one another.

We had stopped being romantically involved by the time our band broke up.

That had been last year. I hadn’t seen you in person since then.

Until that night.

Seeing you in my crowd, watching intently as I sang that song—the one that had all of my heartbreak, longing, and pain etched into every word—brought me a wave of torturous nostalgia.

You hadn’t known it was about you, although I assumed you could probably guess that it was, considering I had written it when you and I had been in that messy situation.

“Just a little bit of your heart,” my shaky voice sang the last lyrics of the song, eyes glazed with tears. “Just a little bit is all I’m asking for.”

The instrumental faded out, swallowed by the roar of the crowd. “Thank you,” I said into the mic, my chest rising with a shaky breath. My eyes swept across the audience, and my throat tightened when I saw so many faces streaked with tears. They had felt every word. Every ounce of the song’s weight.

Then my eyes found you. You were standing with Niall not far from the barrier, sorrow written all over your face. And I couldn’t stop the thought—were you feeling the same ache I still carried?

The concert continued, my gaze searched the crowd, desperately trying to keep my eyes off of you. Against my better judgement I couldn’t help but steal a few glances, and my chest ached with every look.

With a heavy heart, I finished the last song, taking one last look at the crowd before thanking them and saying my goodbyes.

I headed backstage, immediately looking for the crate of beers I knew someone had left back there. I needed a drink.

I’d just flicked the cap off with a key when I heard footsteps, a frown formed on my face as I wondered who it could be.

Then, yours and Niall’s figures came into my eye view, the two of your strolled over to me as if being in your presence wouldn’t kill me.

“Hey,” I said, awkwardly shifting on my feet. “What’re you two doing back here?”