A few roadies walk out first, followed by the rest of the band. Fans rush over, phones and pens outstretched.
And then, he emerges.
Rei Alcantara stands there, a reluctant smile on his face, signing autographs and taking selfies.
Your breath hitches in your throat. He's much closer now, only meters away.
People keep screaming his name, asking for pictures, asking for a few moments of his time.
He grants them, but his eyes keep darting in your direction.
He knows you're there. He feels your gaze, your turmoil, your guilt.
The line of fans slowly dwindles, leaving you and him face to face — the first time in years.
The world seems to pause, the air thick with anticipation.
He says nothing, his gaze locked on yours, an ocean of untold words and unspoken questions.
You want to speak, to explain, to apologize—but the words catch in your throat, leaving you frozen, speechless.
A long silence stretches between you two, heavy with the weight of years apart.
The crowd disperses around you, the noise of the world slowly fading.
Eventually, Rei inhales. The sound jolts you, breaking the spell.
He opens his mouth to speak, to say the words you've longed to hear...and then, his phone rings.
He breaks eye contact to check the screen. You watch as his expression darkens, his shoulders tensing.
Rei lifts the phone to his ear, his voice distant. "Yeah."
He listens for a few seconds, his hand clenching the phone tighter.
The conversation doesn't last long, but you feel its impact instantly.
Rei's eyes find yours once more, this time with a resigned acceptance.
He tucks his phone into his pocket.
"Follow me."
You nod wordlessly and follow him backstage.
The back corridor is quiet, the clamour of the concert now a distant memory.
Rei walks ahead, his steps measured, his back straight. His silence is heavy, your own guilt weighting you down.
You reach a door at the end of the corridor.
Rei fishes a key from his pocket and unlocks it.
He pushes the door open and motions for you to enter first.
The room within is small and dark, a makeshift resting area for the band.
There are two couches, a coffee table, and a mini fridge.
Rei shuts the door behind you, enveloping the room in semi-darkness.
You stand awkwardly, the silence between you uncomfortable, tense.
Rei sits on one of the couches, his exhaustion visible in the slouch of his shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes.
He doesn't invite you to sit.
Another tense silence stretches.
Finally, he speaks, his voice a monotone whisper.
"What are you doing here?"
The question catches you off guard.
You swallow hard, your mind racing for an answer, but the truth is, you don't know why you're here.
"I..." You begin, your voice trailing off. "I just..."
Rei's gaze doesn't waver. His eyes bore into you, waiting for an explanation.
The words don't come easily. Your guilt is a heavy weight in your chest, a blockade in your throat.
Rei studies you, his face unreadable in the dim light.
"You just what?" His tone is flat, almost cold.
You take a shuddering breath, trying to find your voice.
"I-" You can't say more. The words stick in your throat, an unstoppable lump that threatens to consume you.
Rei leans forward, his elbows on his knees.
His stare is intense, unflinching.
"Why are you here? After all this time... why now?"
His question is like a knife to the heart. You close your eyes, unable to look him in the eye.
"I don't know." You murmur.
Rei's scoff is bitter.
"You don't know?" He repeats the words like a mockery. "You disappear for years... and now you're back, and you don't even know why?"
His words sting, the pain of your own past actions resurfacing.
You look up to find his eyes on you, a mixture of anger and hurt in his gaze.
The room is thick with tension, the air almost tangible.
"I don't know, alright?!" You finally snap, your voice rising. "What do you want me to say? That I made a mistake? That I was stupid to leave? "
The moment the words are out, you regret them.
Rei's gaze hardens.
"Stupid to leave?" He echoes, bitterness lacing his voice. "That's a bit of an understatement, don't you think?"
He pushes himself to his feet, circling the coffee table like a panther ready to attack.
"It's a little late for regrets, isn't it?" He continues, his steps measured, his gaze unflinching. "Six years, you've been gone. Six goddamn years."
With every word, his anger mounts, his voice rising with each step he takes towards you.
"Six years," he repeats. "No calls, no messages, no goddamn update! You just... vanished."
"And now," he halts, his eyes boring into yours, "now you're here—in the flesh—after six long years. And all you can say is, 'I don't know?'"
His proximity is overwhelming, his gaze unyielding.
Your heart is pounding, your head filled with guilt, and his words keep hitting too close to home.
"Rei," you whisper, your voice cracking under the weight of your past decisions. "Rei, I..."
But he doesn't let you finish.
He's too far gone in his anger, the years of silence and longing bursting from him like a dam breaking.
"Do you even have the slightest idea of what it was like for me?" He hisses, leaning in, his face inches from yours.
His eyes gleam with a dangerous anger, his voice hoarse with repressed emotions.
"Do you even know what your disappearance did to me?"
You shrink back, his words a dagger to your heart.
But he continues, his voice rising with every sentence.
"I waited for you. For months. For years. I kept checking my phone, every goddamn day, hoping for your call, your text, anything to show that you remembered you left something—someone— behind."
"Every night, I'd sleep with my phone next to me, just in case, just in case you called. Just in case you changed your mind and wanted to... come back."
He exhales, the words catching in his throat.
The pain in his eyes is clear.
"Six years, and you never even tried to reach out. You disappeared like I never even mattered."
The silence that follows is deafening.
His words hang heavily between you two, the weight of his hurt palpable.
You want to explain, to apologize, to tell him that none of this was what you wanted.
But his gaze is still intense, his anger still raw.
You open your mouth to speak, to say something, anything, but the words die on your tongue.
His phone rings again, the sound shattering the tension.
His gaze flicks to the screen—a brief distraction - a moment to regroup.
He grabs it, his expression hardening.
"I have to take this," he mutters, already turning away.
His steps echo in the small room as he moves to the corner, his back turning on you.
The call is short, his voice curt but composed.
You sense a silent conversation on the other end of the line.
Rei's shoulders tense as he listens, his grip on the phone tightening.
Finally, he ends the call, slipping the phone into his pocket.
He stands there for a few more moments, his back towards you, his body taut with tension. It feels like an eternity.
Finally, he turns back around, and his gaze meets yours.
His eyes are still hard, but the intensity behind them has shifted— from anger to resignation.
He leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
Silence stretches again, broken only by the distant hum of the venue outside.
He looks tired, older somehow, the years etched in every line of his face.
Finally, he speaks, his voice rough with exhaustion and a thousand unfinished conversations.
"You should go."
The words hit you like a physical blow.
Your heart clenches, and your throat tightens.
You open your mouth, ready to protest, but the look in his eyes stops you.
He's not angry anymore. He's just... weary.
So tired.
Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, but you force the words out.
"What... what do you mean?"
He pushes himself off the wall, taking a few steps towards you.
His gaze is steady, his voice low and even.
"It means exactly what I said. You should leave. Go back to where you belong. Leave me... leave me like you did before."