Are you alright

It had been days since I'd last seen Zaya. Days since her words—Leave me alone—had pierced through me like shards of glass. I'd sent her a few messages since, just short notes, hoping she'd read them and maybe... maybe reply. But every time my phone lit up, it was never her.

The silence was worse than any argument. It gnawed at me, filling every quiet moment with doubts and regrets.

I kept replaying our last conversation, trying to pick apart what I could've said differently, what I could've done to make her believe me. But the truth was, I didn't know if anything would've worked.

Today, I was back at the studio, though it felt emptier without Zaya. She was supposed to be here.

This was our shared world—a space where we worked, laughed, and sometimes even stole moments just for us. Now, it felt like a stage I was forced to stand on alone, the spotlight cold and harsh.