Echo of Your Silence
He had already chosen where and when. The Overlook Bridge, on the anniversary of his brother's death—the perfect place to follow him, to sever a life that had become gray and soundless. Ethan, whose soul had long turned to ash along with his silenced music, was ready to take the final step. But she knocked him off his path—with a single defiant phrase, thrown at the edge of the abyss.
Skye, a punk rock vocalist with a tattoo of a shattered piano on her wrist, was his mirror image. Where he hid his pain in apathy and silence, she forged hers into an armor of cynicism and screams. Seeing a familiar void in his eyes, she didn't save him—she simply stood beside him, offering not hope, but a strange, twisted kind of complicity.
And so, their dance began. Two souls—broken, yet stubbornly alive. They don't know how to be happy, but they are desperately learning how to be real. Their encounters are awkward conversations in a smoke-filled café, accidental collisions in an old record store, silent walks through the sleeping city. He is afraid of her noise, her fury, her life. She is afraid of his silence, his vulnerability, his ability to see straight through her armor.
This is not a story about a perfect love that heals all wounds. It is a story about two people who slowly, painfully, step by step, pull each other out of the deafening silence where one is usually left alone. It is a tale of how, from the ashes of old traumas and the dissonance of two shattered souls, a single, imperfect, yet achingly honest melody can be born. A song that becomes their only way of saying, "I see you. And I'm staying."
