Why Don't We One Shots

Distant, Zach Herron

Based on the song Slow Dancing in a Burning Room by John Mayer.

Zach Herron could feel the heat in the air. It was subtle at first, a slow burn that crept up on him, like the early signs of a wildfire. He had always been in tune with the intensity of his surroundings, the hum of the music, the pulse of the crowd. But tonight, something felt different. He wasn't on stage, the lights weren't blinding him, and the audience wasn't waiting for him to speak. Tonight, he was standing in the corner of a quiet room with Y/N, a girl whose presence had always felt like both home and danger, like an irresistible force that threatened to pull him in completely.

The first time Zach met Y/N, it was like a collision of two worlds. She had been standing near a window, her face lit by the soft glow of a streetlight, her eyes lost in a thought he could never quite place. He had been drawn to her, not by her beauty, though that was undeniable, but by the stillness she radiated. He was always moving, always going, but with Y/N, he wanted to stop and just be. He wanted to understand her. He wanted to know what lay behind the calm façade she wore like armor.

Their connection was immediate, effortless even. They had spent hours talking about everything and nothing—about dreams, regrets, hopes, fears. Zach found solace in her words, a peace he didn't often feel in the chaos of his life. But beneath the surface of their budding relationship, something darker lingered, a truth neither of them was willing to confront: they were two souls caught in the same orbit, but their paths were destined to collide in ways they couldn't yet understand.

Now, here they were, standing together in the dimly lit room of a downtown apartment. The music played softly in the background, almost too quiet for the tension that seemed to fill the space between them. Zach wasn't sure when it started—the slow unraveling of what they had, the subtle shift from laughter and light to something heavier. But as he looked into Y/N's eyes, he felt the heat between them, the undeniable pull that had always been there, but now, it felt like it was burning them both alive.

She stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest as if to protect herself from the growing distance between them. Her usual calm demeanor was now replaced by a quiet sorrow, an ache that Zach couldn't ignore. He had seen it in her eyes before, a flicker of doubt, a flicker of something more than just the surface tension of a relationship. But this time, it was different. This time, it was impossible to deny.

"You've been distant," Y/N's voice broke through the quiet, soft but edged with frustration. Her gaze didn't leave his, and Zach could feel the weight of her words pressing down on him. "What's going on, Zach?"

Zach didn't know how to answer. The truth was, he had been feeling it too—the slow erosion of what they once had, the quiet unraveling that neither of them wanted to address. He had always known that being in a relationship like this, with the weight of his fame and the expectations that came with it, was going to be hard. But it was more than just the external pressures. It was the way they had both changed, the way they had drifted further apart with every passing day.

"I don't know," he finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I'm losing you."

Y/N's eyes softened for a moment, but then the wall came back up, her expression becoming guarded again. She turned away from him, walking toward the window and looking out at the city below, as if the view could offer her some kind of clarity.

"I feel the same way," she said quietly, her back to him. "But maybe that's just how it is. Maybe we're not meant to be. Maybe we're just two people who met at the wrong time."

Zach's heart ached at the words, but he didn't know how to change things. They had both tried—tried to make it work, tried to hold on to something that once felt so real, so solid. But lately, every time he reached for her, it felt like she was slipping further away. It was like they were dancing in a room that was slowly burning, both of them pretending that everything was fine, pretending that they weren't slowly getting consumed by the fire.

"I don't want to let go," he said, his voice breaking. He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. "I can't just... walk away from this. From you."

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and resignation. "But we're already walking away, Zach. We just don't want to admit it."

Zach could feel the truth in her words, even if he didn't want to hear it. The heat between them had shifted, no longer passionate or warm, but suffocating, overwhelming. It was like they were moving in slow motion, dancing in circles, each step taking them further into the flames, until there would be nothing left but ash.

He wanted to reach out, to pull her back into his arms and make everything feel okay again. But he knew it wasn't that simple. They had tried, and tried again, but the fire had already started, and it was beyond their control.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Y/N's gaze softened, her arms uncrossing as she took a tentative step toward him. "You're not hurting me, Zach. You never did. It's just... we can't keep pretending."

Zach wanted to argue, to hold on to the last threads of what they had, but as he looked at Y/N, he realized she was right. They had been pretending, for far too long. The dance they had been doing was beautiful in its own way, but it was also doomed from the start. There was no escaping the fire that was slowly consuming them both.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The music played softly in the background, a melancholy tune that seemed to mirror their own emotions. And in that silence, Zach finally understood. They were two people who had once burned bright together, but now they were caught in a storm of their own making, dancing in a room that was falling apart.

And though he didn't want to admit it, he knew it was time to let go.

As he stepped back, Y/N did the same. The gravity between them had shifted, and the room that had once been filled with warmth and laughter was now a place of quiet sorrow. They had danced their last dance, and now, all that was left was the aftermath—the slow burn of a love that had once been, but could never be again.

The room, like their hearts, was burning, and all they could do was watch the flames consume everything they had built.

And in that moment, Zach realized that some things, no matter how hard you try, just aren't meant to last.

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AN.: I wanted to try something new for me by creating stories based on songs. Might be doing more like this in the future. Thanks for reading and don't forget to vote please!! Xx