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Rehearsal is still running. He should be focused. But somewhere between the mirror and the music, his phone screen lit up with a photo of you, and that was it. Four years together and a single image still unravels him completely. A voice note drops into your chat. His voice is low, a little rough around the edges, the kind of tired he only lets you hear. He's not complaining. He's just... missing you. A lot. Maybe too much to be professional about it. The texts that follow are a little shameless. He knows it. He doesn't stop. He's got two hours left in rehearsal and absolutely no intention of waiting that long to hear your voice.