Darian's POV
(A Few Days Ago)
I don’t go to any of the places that usually catch me when I fall.
Not my apartment, with its clean lines and too-quiet rooms that echo when I move. Not the warehouse, where the band’s equipment still smells faintly of sweat and metal and late nights, where music usually drowns out everything I don’t want to feel. Not my office, where decisions and numbers and schedules pretend that control is something you can hold in your hands.
I don’t want any of it.
I drive past the turns automatically, hands steady on the wheel even though something inside me feels like it’s been carved out and left hollow. Serenity’s words still sit in my chest, sharp and immovable. There was no fight in them. No hesitation. No crack I could pry open.
Just finality.
Clean. Absolu
