SY

The first time Harry heard your voice again, he almost skipped it. He was halfway through a playlist someone had sent him, barely paying attention as song after song blended into the background. It had been a long day, and he was looking for noise more than music. Then you started singing. His thumb froze above the screen. No… It couldn’t be. The voice was older now. Softer in some places, stronger in others. But he’d know it anywhere. He sat forward, listening as the lyrics wrapped around him. “Some people become strangers… but never stop feeling like home.” His chest tightened. He’d spent seven years convincing himself he’d imagined what the two of you had. That maybe it had only meant so much because you were young. Because timing was cruel. But as the chorus hit, memories he’d buried came rushing back. Late-night drives. Your laugh. The way you’d absent-mindedly steal his hoodies and swear you’d give them back. You never did. His eyes drifted to the artist’s name glowing on his phone. Your name. For seven years, you’d built a career he’d somehow missed. Seven years… And somehow, the girl he’d never quite forgotten had become the woman the entire world was listening to. Harry hit replay. Then replay again. Because for the first time in a long time… He couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever stopped writing about him.