—
The first notes are soft, just barely there like he’s warming up, like the song’s still making its way through him. But then the bow finds its rhythm, and the room shifts. Everything slows down. Conversations trail off mid–sentence. Glasses are lowered. Even forks hang in the air, forgotten halfway to mouths.
The bow moves like it’s telling a story — breathless and raw and somehow quiet and full at once. The kind of sound that makes people forget they’re in public. The kind that lands in your chest and stays there.
When he closes his eyes to play – he’s gone. Possessed by whatever galaxy lives in his hands.
Then – like always – he changes tempo. Slows. Opens his eyes.
And sings.
His voice is haunting. Unfiltered. Raw in a way most people are too scared to be. It’s not about perfection – it’s about feeling. Each lyric is razor–sharp and aching, like he wrote it alone at 3 AM and never really recovered. The whole room forgets to breathe. I know Emilia does, because I hear her exhale like she’s just surfaced from underwater.
Halfway through, I glance around.
The waitress is wiping her eyes with a napkin. The guy in the corner is pretending his cocktail glass is just very emotional. The old couple in the booth across from us, have their hands clasped so tightly their knuckles are white.
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And when he finishes – bow lowering, voice dropping to a whisper – there’s a silence even deeper than before.
Then the applause erupts.
Emilia’s wiping at her cheek before she even realises she’s crying.
I don’t say anything. I just pull her closer and lace her fingers with mine.
Mar gives a little nod, says thank you, and heads off like he didn’t just turn the entire club into one big puddle.
Emilia turns to me, eyes a little red but smiling.
“He’s really good,” she says, voice soft with something like awe.
I just nod. “Yeah, he is.”
Daniel doesn’t even blink at the sniffling echoing around us. Just turns, completely unfazed, and says, “I’ll tell Mar you’re coming backstage.”
“Dan—” I start, but he’s already sliding out of the booth with a lazy wave, not even bothering to look back.
I turn to Emilia, sighing. “Do you want to go backstage?”
“Do you?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Then let’s not.” She says simply. Looking at her face through the screen of her phone. “Then let’s not. We can call it a night. Or get ice cream.”
I sigh. “This seems a bit too cowardly. Come on, we’re going
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backstage.”
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Backstage, Mar is wiping off his makeup in front of a mirror, hair pulled back, violin case open on a chair. There’s a poor excuse of a bouquet lying on a table and a few roses that are no doubt from the crowd. The second I see them, I make sure to steer Emilia away. Elijah leans against the wall, arms crossed, speaking quietly to him — his voice low, unreadable. His eyes are a little red too, but there’s something proud in them, steady and still.
The moment we open the door, both of them look up.
—
Mar’s face warms instantly, though there’s hesitation in the corners of
his smile. Elijah, on the other hand, loses any hint of warmth the second he sees me.
His scowl is sharp enough to cut glass. “Calloway,” he says flatly. “Bold of you to show your face.”
I don’t flinch. “Trust me, if I’d known you were here, I’d have stayed in the booth.”
—
Emilia subtly digs her nails into the back of my hand. It’s gentle, a reminder. I exhale, try not to rise to it, and shift my focus to Mar only to spot their dog, Mama, curled up on a plush bed in the corner like she owns the place.
I snort. “It’s only been a few months. How is she twice the size already?”
Mar’s voice is solemn. “Mama does not appreciate comments about her weight.” But his eyes are dancing with amusement.
“It’s good to see you, Liam,” Mar says after a pause, and this time it
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sounds real. “Really. It’s been a while.”
“Not really,” I shrug, casual. “And you both remember Emilia, My girlfriend.”
I don’t miss the way Elijah’s mouth tightens at that. Good.
“She was at your wedding,” I add, pointedly. “We just wanted to say congrats. You were incredible out there.”
Emilia nods, polite but cool. “Lovely to see you both again.” Somehow, she makes it sound like exactly the opposite. God, I love her. She turns to Mar. “Your performance was incredible. We had no idea you’d be on stage tonight — if we had, we would’ve brought flowers.”
–
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