Lost In Your Words

Chapter 2: Backstage Glances — Liam’s POV

Backstage always smells the same—dust, old curtains, and something faintly metallic. If nerves had a scent, I’m pretty sure this would be it.

I tug at the cuff of my sleeve for the third time in under a minute. It’s fine. I know it’s fine. Still, my hands don’t seem to care. They just need something to do—anything to keep from giving away how restless I feel.

Voices carry through the curtain—muffled laughter, someone talking too loud, someone else telling them to shut up. Same chaos as always.

Normal.

So why doesn’t it feel normal tonight?

I exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders back, trying to focus. Lines. Timing. Anything but whatever this feeling is crawling under my skin.

And then I feel it.

That subtle shift, like the air changed.

Like someone’s looking at me.

I tell myself I’m imagining it. People are always looking at someone back here. It doesn’t mean anything.

Still… I look up.

And there she is.

Luna.

She’s a few feet away, half-hidden behind a stack of prop crates like she didn’t mean to be seen. Or maybe she did—I can’t tell. One shoulder leans against the wood, her fingers loosely curled around the edge like she needs something steady to hold onto.

And her eyes—

They’re on me.

Not in my general direction. Not by accident.

On me.

My brain immediately spirals.

Okay. Don’t freak out. This is normal. People look at people. She’s probably not even looking at you. She could be looking at—

There’s nothing behind me.

Right.

So… definitely me.

My stomach flips.

Why is she looking at me?

Did I mess something up earlier? Forget a line? Say something stupid yesterday? Is there something on my face?

God, is there something on my face?

My hand twitches, but I stop myself from checking. That would be obvious. Too obvious.

Don’t be obvious.

I look away—way too fast. Smooth. Really subtle. Definitely not suspicious at all.

Now what?

Do I look back? If I do, that’s weird. If I don’t, that’s also weird. What if she thinks I’m ignoring her? What if she wasn’t even—

I glance back.

She’s still looking.

And this time, when our eyes meet, it’s not just a passing thing. It lingers—just for a second. Maybe less. But long enough that it feels like something.

Like actual contact.

Then she blinks and turns away quickly, like she got caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

My heart immediately decides to make everything worse by beating faster.

Okay. That definitely just happened.

I stare at the floor like it suddenly became fascinating.

What was that?

People don’t just look at you like that for no reason… right?

Maybe she was judging me. That would make sense. I’ve been standing here fidgeting with my sleeve like it personally offended me. Great. Good job.

But… no.

It didn’t feel like that.

It didn’t feel like judgment.

It felt—

Nope. Not finishing that thought.

Across the room, someone calls her name. She answers like nothing happened. Like she wasn’t just staring at me. Like I didn’t just—

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling.

Say something.

The thought comes out of nowhere and refuses to leave.

Just something normal. Casual. You can do that. You’ve talked to her before. This isn’t new.

So why does it feel like it is?

I look over again. She’s moved closer now, flipping through her script, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration.

She looks… focused.

Approachable?

Maybe.

Probably not.

My feet stay exactly where they are.

Go.

I don’t move.

Just walk over there.

Still nothing.

What would I even say?

“Hey, I noticed you staring at me”? Yeah, no. Absolutely not.

“Hey”? Too basic.

“Hi”? Somehow worse.

Why is this so hard?

I’ve had full conversations with her before. Short ones, sure—but still. This shouldn’t feel like this.

She laughs quietly at something someone says next to her, and it does something weird to my chest.

Okay. Enough.

I take a step forward before I can overthink it.

And then—

“Liam! You’re up in two!”

I freeze.

Of course.

Perfect timing.

I turn toward the voice and nod. “Yeah—got it.”

When I look back—

She’s not looking at me anymore.

She’s completely turned away, focused on something else like that moment never even happened.

Like it didn’t mean anything.

I stand there for a second longer than I should, something unsettled sitting in my chest.

Right.

Of course.

I shake it off and force myself to focus. Lines. Cues. Things that actually make sense.

Not… whatever that was.

Still—

As I head toward the stage, I glance back one last time.

Just in case.

She doesn’t look up.

And for some reason, that bothers me more than if she had.