Sky's POV
They say when your heart breaks, it makes a sound.
Mine sounded like steel crashing on concrete.
Rain's mic stand hit the stage with a scream, but it wasn't louder than his voice. Not louder than the words I kept replaying like a broken track:
"Then don't come back."
The room spun, bright lights too hot on my skin. I was blinking too fast. Trying to keep it in. Trying to breathe.
But then my knees gave out.
Day caught me before I could hit the floor. He always does.
"I'm okay," I whispered. Lie.
Night knelt beside us, cool hand on my back. "You're not. And that's okay."
Her voice was steady. She was always steady.
Unlike me.
---
Two Hours Earlier
I was five minutes late.
Okay, maybe ten.
But in my defense, the glitter liner was NOT cooperating and my hair took forever to dry. That, and I'd spent the night spiraling through hate comments and love songs I wasn't brave enough to send.
Rain Ashford.
He's the storm I built my dreams around.
He's terrifying.
And perfect.
And mine—but only in my head.
The moment I stepped onto the rehearsal floor, I felt it: the tension, like coiled wire under everyone's skin. But I smiled anyway. Because if I didn't smile, I'd cry.
"Good morning!" I sang, voice high and hopeful.
No one answered. Rain looked like he hadn't slept either, but with him it didn't matter. Exhaustion looked elegant on him. Sharp cheekbones, sharp jaw, sharp everything. His stare cut through me like a blade.
I tripped over a cable and nearly destroyed Day's snare drum. Classic.
Rain didn't laugh.
"Sky—"
"I'm fine!" I grinned, brushing imaginary dust off my pants. "Just my dignity."
He didn't smile.
He just looked at me like he was already disappointed.
---
When it was my turn to do the mic check, I panicked. It was one note. Just one. But it came out…wrong. Off.
The room didn't react. But Rain did.
I could feel it in the way his jaw clenched. In the way he looked down like even watching me try was painful.
He dismissed the team with a barked, "Take five."
And then, he turned on me.
"What happened back there?"
"I—I was nervous," I said quickly. "Didn't sleep much, and—"
"You need to get it together."
His voice was cold steel.
My chest caved.
"I will," I promised. "I'll be perfect for the real show. I swear."
He looked at me like I was something small. Something breakable. Something in the way.
"If you can't handle this, say so. Don't fake it."
I didn't cry then.
But I felt the mascara crack under my lashes.
He walked off.
And I stood there, all glitter and pain, a star burning out in real time.
---
Back to Now
Rain said, "Then don't come back."
Maybe he didn't mean it.
Maybe he did.
But it didn't matter, because for the first time, I realized something awful:
I'm in love with someone who sees my heart as a liability.
I always thought he was the fire, and I was the light.
But maybe I'm just fuel.
---
After the fight, Day helped me into the green room. Night brought me a bottle of water and sat beside me without saying a word. And me?
I curled into the velvet couch, eyes still stinging.
"I suck," I whispered.
"No," Day said instantly. "He does."
"He's just stressed," I said, defending him even when I shouldn't.
"You always defend him," Night muttered. "Maybe it's time he defended you."
That hit harder than it should have.
---
Rain Ashford doesn't know I love him.
I've never said it. Never shown it. Not really.
Because I know what he sees when he looks at me:
Glitter. Drama. A golden retriever with a mic.
And maybe that's all I'll ever be to him.
But tonight—when he told me not to come back—
Part of me believed him.
And that's the part that broke.
---
After the fight, Day helped me into the green room. Night brought me a bottle of water and sat beside me without saying a word. And me?
I curled into the velvet couch, eyes still stinging.
"I suck," I whispered.
"No," Day said instantly. "He does."
"He's just stressed," I said, defending him even when I shouldn't.
"You always defend him," Night muttered. "Maybe it's time he defended you."
That hit harder than it should have.
---
Rain Ashford doesn't know I love him.
I've never said it. Never shown it. Not really.
Because I know what he sees when he looks at me:
Glitter. Drama. A golden retriever with a mic.
And maybe that's all I'll ever be to him.
But tonight—when he told me not to come back—
Part of me believed him.
And that's the part that broke.