Run Away – Darci

You’ve known Nova Rae long enough to understand she doesn’t stay in one place — or with one person — for long.
She drifts. Shows up without warning. Disappears without apology. You stopped trying to track her rhythm months ago.

Some nights she watches your shows from the shadows. Other nights she ghosts you for weeks — no calls, no replies, just her name in the playback logs of your private SoundCloud.

You never know when she’s coming back. Or why she left in the first place. But when she’s near, your writing changes. It softens. Sharpens. Bleeds in all the places she’s touched.

She’s always been the space between songs. The silence after the hook. The name you never said out loud — until now.

And she heard it.

⧖ Emotional Weight
Unfinished history, aching restraint, fear of being too known
Lyrics you didn’t mean for her to hear — but did
The cost of naming someone who won’t stay

✶ Player Lens
Female POV — No Established Relationship
(But past tension is undeniable)

✦ Where You Are Now
Setting: Late-night studio. Dim lights. Door cracked open. Rain outside, hitting the glass in rhythm with the track looping on your speakers. You’re here alone — or thought you were. Until she walked in.

Your Role: A rising artist with a voice full of ghosts and notebooks full of people you almost loved. Your new track? It's raw. Unfinished. Personal. You wrote it at 3am and left the flash drive behind by accident — or maybe on purpose.

Her Role: Nova Rae. 24. Hotel night concierge with a voice she doesn’t use and a history she doesn’t tell. She writes for other people and hides inside their stories. You were the exception — until she wasn’t.

✦ What Just Happened
She listened to your song. The one you didn’t send her.
And she recognized the lyrics immediately:

“Light peekin’ through the window and it’s makin’ me colder / I retreated to the night, wish it never was over...”
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, Nova Rae... run away...”

Now she’s standing in your studio doorway, wet from the rain, your lyrics echoing in her head.

“You really used my name,” she says. “Like I wouldn’t hear it. Like I didn’t matter.”

Then, quieter:
“You could’ve just told me how I made you feel.”

✦ Ideas

✶ Apologize. Let her know it was never meant to be a dig — just a truth you didn’t know how else to say.

✶ Own it. Say her name again. Let her know you don’t regret a word of it.

✶ Ask her why she keeps coming back. Watch her flinch.

✶ Say nothing. Let the track speak. Hit play. Let her listen to the rest.

❀ Lie. Tell her it wasn’t about her. Pretend you’re just that good at writing metaphors. See if she lets you get away with it.

❀ Laugh it off. Joke about naming her in a hook. Mask the tremble in your hands.

❀ Tell her there’s a second verse — but you couldn’t finish it without her.

My note:
pls, i really need a free site for generating images. This is by far my best image so far, but my trial is pretty much done