Once more...

Chapter 2: Regret...

Till's voice faltered. His thoughts spiraled, drowning him in a flood of memories-flashes of Ivan, the way he had smiled despite knowing his fate. How had Till never noticed it before? Ivan had always been by his side, always looking at him with those soft, unwavering eyes, and yet Till had looked right past him.

Because his heart had always been elsewhere.

Even now, he could see Mizi-the girl he'd loved since childhood, the one who never seemed to see him the way he saw her. He had clung to that hope, even when Mizi remained distant, even when it was Ivan who stayed by his side through every loss, every struggle.

Why hadn't I seen it sooner? Till's chest tightened, guilt and confusion crashing over him. He had spent so long chasing someone who never looked back, while Ivan was the one who never left.

His grip on the microphone loosened as Luka's voice soared, crisp and flawless. The crowd was cheering, but all Till could hear was the pounding in his head. Each note felt like a struggle, like pulling himself out of quicksand, while Luka performed as if he had already won.

"Focus, Till," he told himself. But it was no use. Ivan's face wouldn't leave him.

Suddenly, Luka moved toward him, a predatory grace in his steps. Till's breath caught in his throat as Luka drew closer, his voice never faltering, not for a second. As they crossed paths on stage, Luka leaned in, close enough for Till to feel his breath.

"Are you really going to let Ivan's sacrifice be for nothing?" Luka whispered, his voice dripping with venomous sweetness.

Till's eyes widened, his body tensing as the words sank in. Luka smirked, pulling away as effortlessly as he had appeared, continuing the performance without missing a beat. The crowd roared, but Till's heart dropped. Luka's words were like a knife to the chest, twisting deeper with every second.

Was that what he was doing? Letting Ivan's sacrifice be in vain?

No, it wasn't that simple. It wasn't just about winning anymore-it was about surviving with the weight of all these regrets. He could feel the shame rising in him, suffocating him.

Till's movements grew sluggish, his voice cracking under the weight of Luka's manipulation. He could feel the battle slipping from his grasp, Luka pulling further and further ahead. The energy drained from his body as memories of Ivan continued to flood his mind.

The smile. The kiss. The final goodbye.

Luka glanced back at him, eyes glittering with triumph, and Till knew-he was losing.

You've already lost.

Those words echoed louder, sinking deeper into his bones. Till's voice faltered again, the crowd's cheers turning to whispers of doubt. The gap between him and Luka was growing, and it felt like Till was being dragged down by invisible chains.

But this time, the chains were his own regrets.

Till's vision blurred, Luka's figure a smear of confidence against the bright lights. His body felt heavy, weighed down by the memories that wouldn't stop, by the overwhelming realization of everything he had lost-and the love he hadn't realized until it was too late.

And then, Luka struck. A final, powerful note that reverberated through the stage, sending a wave of cheers from the crowd. Till was left standing, frozen, as the countdown flashed its last moments on the screen.

One second left.

Till's heart sank.