Mac Miller - Dang (feat. Anderson .paak) -

The air in the room was thick with the scent of sandalwood and the lingering static of a dead phone. Miles sat on the edge of his bed, watching the late afternoon sun carve gold stripes across the floorboards. In the kitchen, a half-empty bottle of orange juice sat sweating on the counter. She had left ten minutes ago, or maybe it was an hour. Time tended to stretch and snap whenever they fought.

He looked at the open window. A breeze drifted in, carrying the sound of the city and the faint smell of rain. He didn't want to lose her to the wind. He didn't want her to become just another song he couldn't skip because it hurt too much to listen. Mac Miller - Dang (feat. Anderson .Paak)

He could still hear the ghost of the door clicking shut. It wasn't a slam; slams were easy. Slams meant there was still fire. The click was worse. The click was a period at the end of a sentence he wasn't finished writing. The air in the room was thick with

He thought about the way she looked when she was annoyed—the specific way she’d tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear before launching into a critique of his inability to remember the grocery list. He missed that hair tuck. He even missed the critique. She had left ten minutes ago, or maybe it was an hour

He pulled his phone from his pocket, thumbs hovering over the glass. He wanted to call her, to crack a joke about how the cat looked depressed without her, but the words felt heavy. He was tired of the cycle—the losing and the finding, the leaving and the staying. It was a dizzying dance where neither of them knew who was leading anymore.

He wandered into the living room and dropped a needle onto a record. The beat kicked in—warm, bouncy, and undeniably rhythmic. It was too happy for his mood, but the groove forced his foot to tap against the hardwood. "Dang," he whispered to the empty walls.

Miles grabbed his keys. He didn’t have a plan, but he had a feeling. He stepped out into the hallway, the beat from the record player still pulsing through the door behind him. He was done with the "gone." He was ready for the "back."