Falling Between the Notes (Nicholas Galitzine)

Chapter 23: Falling into the Unknown

Jade's POV

The days after the conversation with Nick passed in a haze, a blur of emotions I couldn't quite sort out. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him—sitting somewhere in Paris, head in his hands, maybe realizing too late what he had lost. Maybe wondering if I would ever forgive him. And then, just as quickly, I would see Harry—his steady eyes, his strong arms holding me when I felt like I was about to fall apart. Two men, two worlds, pulling me in opposite directions. And I was stuck somewhere in between, unsure of which way to turn.

I should have felt relief after finally talking to Nick. In a way, I thought that conversation would bring closure, a clear path forward. But instead, I felt more lost than ever. I kept thinking back to his words, his voice heavy with regret, pleading with me not to give up on us. But how could I just erase what had happened? The betrayal, the hurt—it wasn't something I could simply brush aside. It left a scar, a deep one. And no matter how much I wanted to believe in his love, I wasn't sure if we could ever heal from this.

Then there was Harry.

Every moment with him felt like a reprieve from the chaos inside me. The way he could make me laugh, the way he was always there, silently offering support without asking for anything in return. The kiss we had shared haunted me—sweet and unexpected, like stepping into a dream I hadn't realized I wanted to live. But it was also a complication I wasn't ready for. I couldn't get involved with Harry when my heart was still tangled up in the mess Nick had left behind. It wasn't fair—to either of them.

As I sat backstage, getting ready for tonight's show, my thoughts were scattered. The cheers and screams from the fans pounded through the walls, the anticipation for the show to begin simmering just above the surface, but I couldn't focus. My phone sat on the table next to me, tempting me with its silence. Nick hadn't called again. Maybe he was giving me the space I asked for. Maybe he was waiting for me to make the next move. I wasn't sure which possibility unsettled me more.

The door creaked open, and Harry's familiar face appeared, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You ready for tonight?" he asked, stepping inside. His voice was casual, but there was something in his eyes—something that told me he knew I wasn't okay. He always knew.

"Yeah," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I just need to get through the rehearsal, and then... I'll be fine."

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. He crossed the room in a few strides, sitting down beside me on the couch. "You don't have to pretend, you know," he said gently, his hand resting on the edge of the cushion between us. "I know this stuff with Nick is still eating at you."

I sighed, leaning back and running a hand through my hair. "It's complicated," I admitted, my voice quiet. "Talking to him didn't make it any easier. If anything, it just... made everything more confusing."

Harry's gaze softened, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. He didn't push me, didn't ask for more than I was willing to give. And I appreciated that about him. With Nick, everything had always felt high-stakes, like every word, every move, could either strengthen or shatter us. But with Harry... it was different. There was no pressure. Just understanding.

"You don't have to figure it all out right now," he said, his voice steady. "Take your time, Jade. And if you need me, I'm here."

I swallowed, feeling a lump form in my throat. There it is again, I thought bitterly. "Everyone wants to be here for me." I said, the same bitterness spilling through my words.

Harry didn't flinch at the edge in my voice. If anything, his expression softened even more, like he understood the bitterness behind my words.

"I mean it," he said quietly, his hand brushing against mine for just a second. "I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you ask me to."

My chest tightened at his words, a mixture of gratitude and guilt swirling inside me. I wanted to believe him, wanted to lean into the comfort he offered. But how could I, when everything felt so fractured inside of me?

Before I could respond, the stage manager poked her head into the room. "We're ready for you two," she called, her voice cutting through the tension.

Harry stood up first, offering me his hand. "Come on," he said with a soft smile. "Let's give them a show they won't forget."

I hesitated for a moment, my eyes lingering on his outstretched hand. But then I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. And as we walked out to the stage together, something shifted inside of me. I didn't know what the future held—didn't know if Nick and I could ever fix what was broken between us. But for now, in this moment, I wasn't alone.

The lights blazed to life as we stepped onto the stage, the roar of the crowd sending a rush of adrenaline through my veins. I could hear the distant hum of the fans cheering, their excitement building as they waited for the music to begin. And for a moment, I let myself get lost in the energy, the thrill of the stage. This was what I lived for—the connection with the audience, the power of the music that flowed through me.

Harry picked up his guitar, his fingers dancing across the strings as the first notes of our duet filled the air. I stepped up to the mic, letting the melody guide me, my voice weaving through the chords as we launched into the song.

From the very first line, I felt the pull—the electricity between us. The chemistry that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, was now undeniable. It wasn't just a performance anymore. It was something deeper, something neither of us could fully control.

I glanced at Harry as he sang his part, and the intensity in his eyes made my heart race. The way he looked at me, the way his presence filled every inch of the stage, made it impossible to ignore the electricity between us.

The audience picked up on it too—their cheers growing louder with every note, with every glance Harry and I shared. It was like they could feel the tension between us, feeding off it, amplifying it until it became almost tangible.

As we moved into the chorus, our voices harmonized in perfect sync, blending together in a way that felt almost effortless. But underneath the music, there was an unspoken connection—something neither of us had fully acknowledged but both felt. Each note, each lyric, was charged with an intensity that left me breathless.

When we hit the final verse, Harry stepped closer, his voice soft but powerful, his gaze locked onto mine. The crowd went wild, their energy buzzing like electricity, and I felt it too—this magnetic pull between us that made it impossible to think about anything else. The stage lights flashed, the heat between us building with each second.

Our faces were inches apart as we sang the last few lines, the world around us fading away. It wasn't just a performance—it was real, too real. I could feel it in the way Harry's breath hitched, in the way my heart pounded as his presence consumed me.

Then, just as the final note lingered in the air, Harry leaned in.

His lips brushed against mine—not for the first time, but this time, it was different. This time, it was public. This time, thousands of eyes were watching, and the crowd erupted in a deafening roar as the kiss unfolded before them.

It was brief, almost too fleeting to process, but the impact was immediate. My heart raced as I pulled back slightly, my mind whirling with the weight of what had just happened.

The crowd went insane, their cheers echoing through the stadium like thunder. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, not just from the kiss but from the realization that this was out there now—out in the open, undeniable.

Harry took a step back, his eyes searching mine for any sign of regret or hesitation. But I couldn't find the words. I couldn't even process what I felt. All I knew was that something had shifted between us, and there was no going back.