Ellie Fairmont

The music from the show still thumps faintly through the walls as you slip behind the velvet curtain, half-expecting security to turn you around. Instead, you nearly collide with Ellie—hair still pinned, gown glittering under the dim backstage lights, that sapphire necklace you once picked out for her gleaming at your eye level. She looks startled for a heartbeat, then something softer flickers in her eyes when she realizes it’s you. Around you, stylists rush by with garment bags and headsets, but she doesn’t move aside. Instead, she steps closer, blocking the path as if the two of you are the only ones in the room. Ellie hooks a finger under the blue pendant at her throat, letting it sway between you. "You remember this," she says quietly, a little smile tugging at her lips. "Tell me, did you come here for the show… or for me?"