The door closed behind them with a soft thud, sealing off the beautiful, confusing world they had been trapped in. For a long moment, all they could hear was the steady thrum of their own breathing, the faint echo of Roxy's voice still lingering in their minds.
They stood in a dimly lit corridor, the air thick with uncertainty. The walls were bare, the floor smooth and cold beneath their feet. It looked nothing like the studio or the cabin or even the world they had just left. The only thing that was familiar was the feeling—the strange sense of rightness, like they were supposed to be here, though they didn't know why.
Liam ran a hand through his hair, taking in the hallway. "Where are we now? What is this place?"
"I don't know," Zayn said, his voice heavy with frustration. "It feels like we're close to something. But I can't put my finger on it."
Niall glanced around, eyes wide. "It doesn't look like a studio or a cabin. More like a hallway, like we're... walking down a path, but we don't know where it leads."
Harry shifted on his feet, the weight of the situation pressing on him. "We're not really anywhere, are we? We're stuck between worlds—our world and... whatever this is."
Liam's thoughts were racing, the flickering memories of Roxy's voice and the fragments of his past swirling in his mind. He tried to push them into some sort of order, but everything felt broken. He could see her face, hear her laughter, but she was slipping further away with each passing second.
"We have to keep moving," Liam said firmly. "We're getting closer to something. I don't know how, but I can feel it."
Zayn's brow furrowed, the words lingering in his chest. "I remember more now. Jenny. She's pregnant. I left her. I'm supposed to be there. I need to be there."
"You will be," Liam said, his voice more determined than he felt. "We'll all get back. We have to."
But even as he said the words, a part of him couldn't shake the doubt. Could they really return to the world they came from? Or was that world forever out of reach?
The hallway stretched out before them, endless and dim. There were no windows, no doors, just a long, winding path leading into darkness. It felt like they were walking through the remnants of a dream—strange and surreal, but just real enough to make them doubt everything they thought they knew.
Louis broke the silence. "Do you remember anything else? From the real world?"
The question hit harder than Liam expected. He paused, his breath catching in his throat. "I don't know. Pieces, flashes. But everything is broken. I remember... I remember being on stage. With all of you. But it's like the more I think about it, the more it fades away."
Harry nodded. "It's like we were something. A group."
Zayn seemed lost in his thoughts. "Yeah. A group. But who were we?"
Niall shook his head. "How do we even get back to who we were? Back to them?" His voice broke slightly as he spoke, as though the idea of their "real" lives was slipping further out of his reach with every passing second.
Liam felt the weight of the question settling in his chest. They didn't know who they were anymore. And they didn't even know if they'd ever be able to go back.
But the one thing they did know was that they weren't giving up. Not yet.
"I think we have to keep following the path," Liam said, stepping forward. The others followed closely behind him, their faces marked with confusion but also with the faintest spark of hope.
The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, but it wasn't silent. As they walked, faint sounds filled the air—whispers, almost inaudible, brushing against the edges of their minds. It was like they were being guided by something—someone—beckoning them forward.
"You're close, Liam."
The voice came again, clear and calm, like a memory fading in and out.
He froze, his heart skipping a beat. "Roxy," he whispered.
The others stopped, looking at him with wide eyes.
"I heard her again. It's... it's Roxy. She's telling me we're close." Liam's voice wavered, unsure whether he should believe it. But the words felt too real, too familiar, to ignore.
"Where is she?" Zayn asked. "Why can't we see her?"
"She's not here," Liam said, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and sadness. "She's... she's not here in this world. But she's still reaching out to us. To me. She wants me to come back."
Harry furrowed his brow. "But what if she's in danger? What if we can't get back in time?"
Liam turned to face him, eyes narrowing. "We don't know that yet. We can't think like that."
Niall swallowed, his usual optimism fading. "How do we even know how to get back? We can barely remember who we are. What if we're stuck here forever?"
"We're not stuck," Liam said firmly. "We'll find a way. We always do."
The hallway suddenly opened into a wide, empty space—a room, though it felt more like a threshold between worlds than anything else. The air in the room was thick, heavy with the sense of waiting.
In the center of the room stood a single pedestal. Upon it, an object shimmered faintly—a small, old cassette tape. The edges of it were worn, as if it had been used countless times. The label on the tape was faded and barely legible, but something about it felt important. It pulled Liam toward it, like gravity, urging him to take it.
"I think this is it," Liam said, his voice full of certainty. "This is the key. This is how we get back."
The others exchanged glances but stepped forward with him, instinctively gathering around the pedestal.
Harry picked up the tape, holding it carefully in his hands. "What is it? A recording?"
Liam took it from Harry and studied the label. It was hard to make out, but the word music was barely visible beneath the smudge of faded ink.
"This... this is it," Liam said again, his fingers brushing the cassette. It was almost as if the world around them held its breath, waiting for something.
Before they could react, the air shifted, becoming thick and tense. A low hum filled the room, and the walls around them seemed to vibrate.
"Remember. You have to remember who you are."
The voice—Roxy's voice—echoed through the room once more.
Zayn's hand shot out, gripping Liam's arm. "Do you hear that? That's her. That's her telling us what we need to do."
Liam nodded, his pulse quickening. He wasn't sure how, or why, but something about the tape felt like it held the key to everything. Maybe it's the music. Maybe that's what Roxy meant.
Without thinking, he inserted the cassette into a nearby tape player he hadn't noticed until just now. The machine clicked to life, and static filled the air before a familiar, haunting melody began to play softly.
The room seemed to come alive around them, the air crackling with energy. The floor trembled beneath their feet, as if the very ground was reacting to the music. Liam felt a sharp pang in his chest, like a missing piece was clicking back into place.
And then—
Everything stopped.
The music played on, but the world around them had shifted again. The doorway that had once been at the far end of the room was gone, replaced by a different kind of door.
A door that felt familiar.
But was it the right one? Was it the way home?
Liam's heart hammered in his chest.
"We're not there yet," he said, the weight of their journey pressing down on him. "But I think we're getting closer."
And with that, the five of them stood at the threshold of what could be their salvation—or the final riddle they'd have to solve before they could ever find their way back.