No

He let her go without a fight, his hand feeling cold and empty in the aftermath. On stage, the singer twirled her around, serenading her with the very words they'd sung to each other in the quiet of their living room. The crowd erupted into cheers, and John's heart sank further. He watched as Amy's eyes shone brighter than the stage lights, her cheeks flushed with excitement and maybe something more.

The song ended, and the singer leaned in close to Amy, whispering something in her ear. She giggled, and John felt a sharp pain in his chest. He knew that laugh—it was reserved for when she was really happy, really alive. As if feeling John's gaze, she turned and gave him a quick, reassuring smile before being led away by the singer. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more anxious.

The concert continued, but John's mind was elsewhere. He couldn't help but replay the moment over and over in his head. The way the singer looked at her, the way she looked back—it was as if he'd been erased from the equation. He tried to focus on the music, but every note was a reminder of what was happening just beyond his reach. He took another sip of his beer, the cold liquid barely touching the sides of his mouth, his throat constricting with each swallow.

As the night went on, John's anxiety grew. He'd never felt so out of place in his own life. The VIP section buzzed with energy, fans chatting and taking photos, but he was stuck in his own silent film of doubt and inadequacy. He scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of Amy, but she remained elusive. The band played on, the music now a cacophony of painful reminders of their shared moments, now tainted by the touch of another.

The final notes of the encore echoed through the venue, and the crowd erupted into applause. The band took their bows, the lead singer flashing a grin that seemed to be directed straight at John's heart. He watched as the stage lights dimmed and the roadies began to pack up the gear. The magic of the concert dissipated like smoke in the wind, leaving only a bitter taste in his mouth.

Amy finally reappeared, flushed and glowing. She rushed over, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh my God, John, that was incredible!" she gushed, throwing her arms around him. He managed a **** smile, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach. "You should have seen backstage," she continued, her voice filled with wonder. "They're all so nice!"

John nodded, his mind racing. He wanted to be happy for her, but the sight of her with the singer had stirred something dark within him. He'd always been the one to make her feel special, but tonight, he felt like he'd been demoted to the sidelines. "What did he say to you?" he asked, trying to keep the accusation out of his voice.

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