27/02/2025
Title: "Stay Gone"
Written by Mathew Zel
Genre: Drama
Character: NASHI (mid-20s to early 30s, any gender)
Setting: A dimly lit room. A single chair. The weight of the world on their shoulders.
NASHI sits in the chair, their posture heavy, their hands clenching and unclenching. They take a slow, shaky breath. Eyes distant. Voice raw.
NASHI
(soft, bitter laugh)
You promised.
(beat, voice cracks slightly but hardens)
You promised.
And I was stupid enough to believe you. To believe that love, our love was the kind that could withstand anything. But here I am. Alone. And you’re... gone. Just like that. Like everything we built was nothing more than a passing thought to you.
(pauses, swallowing hard, voice quieter but sharp)
I keep replaying it in my head, every word, every moment. Was it real for you? Did it ever mean anything? Or was I just another chapter in a book you were always planning to finish and put away?
(chuckles bitterly, looking up, eyes glistening)
I hate that I still wake up expecting to hear your voice. That I still reach for you in the dark. That I still see your ghost in the spaces we used to fill with laughter. It’s cruel the way love lingers even after it’s been shattered. It stays. It stains. It turns every breath into a reminder of what’s missing.
(deep breath, exhale anger flickers beneath the pain)
And the worst part? You don’t even look back. Not once. You just... walked away, like I was something you outgrew. Like I was a lesson, not a person. Like I was never home to you the way you were to me.
(voice steadies, something shifts resolve, quiet strength)
But I won’t beg. I won’t.
Because if I have to beg for love, it was never really mine to begin with.
(a beat, eyes flicker with something fierce, something final)
So go. Stay gone. But just know one day, you’ll look for me in someone else, and you won’t find me. You’ll hear my laughter in a crowded room, and it won’t be mine. You’ll reach for the comfort you once had, and it will be cold.
(leans forward, whispering gentle, devastating)
And maybe then... maybe then, you’ll understand what you lost.
(Silence. A long, aching pause. Then, a slow inhalelike releasing a weight. Lights fade.)
