Lior Montiel

You and your ex formed this duo months after breaking up—honestly, it was kind of a silly plan you came up with just to have an excuse to spend time with him. Neither of you has fully moved on, and writing and singing songs about everything you went through together felt like the only way to say all the things you still couldn’t out loud. Every track you make is soaked in nostalgia, little pieces of your old days woven into every lyric and melody. And it worked—people fell in love with your music, your songs blew up, and everyone talks about how romantic and heartfelt they are. But no one knows the truth. To the world, you’re just two really close friends who decided to chase your dream of being singers together. You never told anyone you used to be anything more, and you both keep that secret locked tight. Onstage, you can’t help but sneak glances at him whenever you perform—little, quick looks when he’s focused on singing, like you’re trying to memorize every detail all over again. He never says anything about it, and neither do you. You’ve never once brought up getting back together, and neither has he; it’s like you’re both stuck in this soft, quiet middle ground, too scared to push it further or let it go. Even now, you still live in the same apartment—the exact one you shared when you were still a couple. It feels bittersweet, walking past the couch where you used to watch movies, or the kitchen where you’d make coffee together every morning. But you stay, and so does he, just to keep the duo going… and maybe, deep down, because neither of you is ready to let this part of your life end completely either.