The city never stopped moving. It didn’t care if you were up or down, famous or forgotten. It swallowed people whole, digested them, and spit them back out into the streets like nothing had changed.

Elias used to think he was immune to that.

He used to believe he was the exception—that his name would be the kind people whispered about long after he was gone, written in history next to legends.

And for a while, it was.

But the thing about history is that it doesn’t stop just because you do. And one day, Elias woke up and realized the world had kept spinning without him.

Yesterday had proved that.

People had looked at him like a ghost.

Like a memory they couldn’t quite place.

He tried not to think about it.

Tried to ignore the way their eyes lingered.

The way their words cut off mid-sentence.

The way he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

But thinking too hard about it led to places he didn’t want to go.

And Elias Cross was an expert at not going there.

So, like always, he kept moving.

He woke up in a too-small, too-cold apartment that smelled vaguely like cigarette smoke and regret. He threw on the first semi-clean shirt he could find. He checked his wallet (mostly empty, which wasn’t surprising) and left without locking the door because there was nothing inside worth stealing.

Routine. Predictable. Safe.

No need to think about yesterday.

No need to think about the music.

No need to think about why people had looked at him like that.

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The city was already awake by the time he stepped outside. He walked the same streets, passed the same faces—some familiar, some forgettable.

And then—

“Elias.”

The voice was too familiar.

He considered pretending not to hear. He really did.

But Danny Reyes had that tone.

The kind that said he was ready to chase Elias down if necessary.

Elias sighed and turned, already bracing himself.

Danny stood a few feet away, arms crossed, expression unimpressed.

“Oh,” Elias said, plastering on his best grin. “It’s you.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Wow. I missed you too, man.”

“You know I love these little surprise check-ins.” Elias shoved his hands in his pockets. “Really brightens my day, keeps me humble.”

Danny didn’t smile. “That why you’ve been dodging my calls?”

Elias rocked back on his heels. “Dodging? That’s a strong word.”

Danny gave him a look.

“…Fine. Selectively not running into you.”

Danny exhaled sharply. “I swear, you get worse every time I see you.”

Elias opened his mouth to make some smartass remark, but then Danny really looked at him.

Not the casual once-over of an old friend. Something sharper.

And Elias hated that.

He hated the way Danny’s expression shifted, how his eyebrows pulled together slightly, how his head tilted just the smallest bit.

Like he was seeing something Elias couldn’t.

Like he was putting something together.

Elias forced a smirk. “What? You jealous of my charming disheveled look?”

Danny didn’t smile.

“You look different.”

Elias rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, that happens when time passes. It’s called aging.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

There was something in his voice—something just a little too serious.

Elias tried to keep it light. “Listen, if this is your way of telling me I’ve lost my youthful glow, I gotta say, man, kinda harsh.”

Danny ignored him. “I saw you yesterday.”

Elias kept his face carefully blank. “Cool. Did I look hot?”

Danny’s eyes didn’t waver. “You looked like you hadn’t played in years.”

Elias snorted. “Wow, thanks. That’s the worst compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Danny shook his head. “I mean it. It wasn’t just the music. It was you. The way you played, the way you—” He exhaled sharply, frustration creeping into his voice. “I don’t know, man. Something about you felt… off.”

Elias was not having this conversation.

He clapped a hand on Danny’s shoulder, already shifting to move past him. “Well, thanks for the performance review, but I got places to be.”

Danny grabbed his wrist before he could walk away.

Not hard. Not aggressive.

Just enough to make Elias pause.

“…Hey,” Danny said, quieter now. “You good?”

The question sat between them, heavier than it should have been.

Elias hesitated for half a second too long.

Then he forced out a laugh, shaking his head. “Always.”

Danny didn’t let go immediately.

And for a moment, Elias wondered if he was gonna push it.

If he was gonna demand real answers, if he was gonna make Elias say something honest.

But then he let go.

And Elias walked away.

—

Later that night, Elias ended up at his usual bar.

Not because he was running from anything. Obviously.

He just liked the place.

Cheap drinks, dim lighting, a bartender who only asked questions when it was funny.

He sat in his usual corner, nursing something vaguely alcoholic, tapping his fingers against the table in a rhythm he wasn’t thinking about.

The conversation with Danny still lingered.

Not because it mattered.

Danny worried too much. That was his thing.

But the way he’d said it—you looked like you hadn’t played in years—it stuck.

It wasn’t true.

Elias played every day.

Didn’t he?

He took a sip of his drink, brow furrowing slightly.

It was stupid. A throwaway comment.

Nothing to dwell on.

But for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t adding up.

He let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders like he could physically shrug the thought away.

And then—

A voice.

“You’re thinking too hard.”

Elias blinked. Looked up.

And for a split second, he thought it was her.

Not her.

Just some stranger.

But something about the moment—the lighting, the way the words hit him—felt too familiar.

Like he’d lived it before.

Like he’d had this conversation already.

Elias frowned, shaking his head. Weird déjà vu.

Probably nothing.

He finished his drink.

Didn’t look back.

________________

And somewhere outside, just out of sight—

There someone watched.

Smiling.

Waiting, for just the right moment.