My Sweet Saviour ♓ M. YG

Part 45

As the lights dimmed and the first notes of the music filled the air, I scanned the audience, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ellie among the sea of faces. The last time we had performed, her laughter had been a comforting presence, a beacon of support that made everything feel right.

I longed to see her smile, to feel that connection again, but as I searched, my heart began to sink. The empty seat where she would have sat felt like a gaping hole in my spirit.

I could almost hear her voice cheering us on, and it pained me to think that she was missing this moment, a moment we had worked so hard to achieve. The stage lights flickered, casting shadows that danced across the audience, but all I could focus on was the absence of her vibrant energy.

Memories flooded my mind—her infectious enthusiasm, the way she would sway to the music, her eyes sparkling with joy. Each recollection was a bittersweet reminder of what we had lost, and I felt a lump form in my throat.

I wanted to believe she was here in spirit, but the reality of her absence weighed heavily on my heart.

Just then, the hosts burst onto the stage, their energy infectious as they greeted the audience. "Hello, to all of the artists and fans around the world!" they exclaimed, their voices ringing with excitement.

"Tonight is a special night, and we want to make sure that everyone gets to experience it. No matter where you are or who you are, you are always part of this moment, and we can feel your energy and support from wherever you might be. So, to everyone out there, thank you for being part of this amazing night!"

Their words resonated with me, and I felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps Ellie was watching from somewhere, her spirit intertwined with the energy of the crowd. The applause that erupted around me felt like a wave, crashing over my doubts and fears.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, allowing the sound to wash over me, and I imagined Ellie's laughter mingling with the cheers, a reminder that she would always be a part of this journey.

The hosts continued to speak, their enthusiasm igniting a fire within me, and I felt the weight of my sorrow begin to lift, if only slightly.

I turned to my friend Namjoon, who stood beside me, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Do you think she's watching?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Namjoon nodded, his expression serious yet comforting. "I believe she is. She always believed in us, and I know she would want us to shine tonight."

I took a deep breath, letting his words wash over me. "You're right. We have to do this for her," I replied, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

As the music swelled and the lights brightened, I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining Ellie's presence enveloping me like a warm embrace.

As I looked through the expansive hall, a sense of longing washed over me, even though I was fully aware that she was unlikely to be here. My heart clung to a flicker of hope, a stubborn ember that refused to be extinguished.

The presenter's voice droned on, a mere backdrop to my thoughts, as my gaze flitted across the crowd, searching for a familiar face. I took a sip of my drink, the cool liquid barely registering as I recalled the last time I found myself in a similar setting.

It was a vibrant evening, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, the night I first laid eyes on Ellie. She had been serving tables, her stunning dress a cascade of deep emerald green that shimmered under the soft lights, hugging her figure perfectly and flowing gracefully as she moved.

The way it accentuated her every gesture made it impossible to look away.

My reverie was abruptly interrupted when I spotted a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Ellie, darting between tables with an air of urgency. However, something was off; her expression was one of distress, a stark contrast to the joyful memory I held.

I felt an inexplicable pull towards her, as if the universe was nudging me to act. Our eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that instant, I could see the flicker of recognition in her gaze, but it was quickly replaced by a look of panic.

Without a second thought, she turned and sprinted away, her figure disappearing into the throng of guests.

My heart raced as I stood up from my seat, instinctively following her, the crowd parting like waves as I navigated through the sea of unfamiliar faces.

"Wait!" I called out, my voice cutting through the ambient noise of the hall. I pushed past a group of chatting guests, my determination fueling my steps.

"Ellie, is that you?" I shouted, hoping against hope that it was indeed her.

But the woman didn't stop. She glanced back once more, her eyes wide with fear, before slipping through a side door at the far end of the hall.

My heart sank as I realized I might have scared her off, but the thought of losing her again propelled me forward. I burst through the door, finding myself in a dimly lit corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly.

The sound of my footsteps echoed off the walls as I pressed on, driven by the sheer force of my longing.

I thought about all the moments that had led to this one—every laugh we shared, every secret whispered under the cloak of night.

Each memory was a thread in the intricate tapestry of my heart, a testament to the depth of my feelings for her. As I ran, the possibility of seeing her again filled my chest with a bittersweet ache.

It felt as if my very soul was on the line, and I couldn't bear the thought of letting her slip away once more.

"Ellie, wait!" I called out again, my voice tinged with desperation. But she didn't wait. Instead, her pace quickened, the sound of her footsteps echoing louder in the narrow corridor.

I could see her silhouette getting smaller, the distance between us growing with every passing second. Panic surged through me; I couldn't lose her now, not after everything.

My mind raced, scrambling for a way to close the gap. "Please, just stop for a moment!" I pleaded, my breath growing ragged from the chase.

The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, each step feeling like an eternity. But then, just as I felt my resolve faltering, she stumbled. It was a small misstep, but it was enough.

Seizing the moment, I surged forward, my hand outstretched, hoping to bridge the chasm that had kept us apart for too long. . . .