Looking up at the window, Fisher gripped the microphone tightly in his hand, heard thudding. This was pointless. Rez wasn't going to come. His shoulders slumped, fingers releasing the mic and letting it drop into the grass. Of course he wasn't going to come. He had no reason to. Despite public humiliation, Fisher had fucked up too bad to reconcile this. He switched off the amp, the faint hum of electrical buzz snapping off into dead silence. It was time to admit defeat, that he had lost Rez just like he'd lost James, and go back to the hotel.
As he was wrapping the cords up, Fisher heard the familiar creaking of a hollow metal door. Head snapping up, heart stopping, his lips twitched into the tiniest smile as Rez stepped out and walked toward him. He wasn't close, but at least he was here. Standing upright, cord wrapped around his hand to his elbow, Fisher waited for Rez to speak. When he finally did, a genuine grin cracked over his face. "I dunno," he admitted, laughing a little. "I didn't actually think you'd come down." Running a hand through his hair, he let the cord drop to the ground, uncoiling in loose loops at his feet. "I'm sorry, Rez. I know it doesn't help, and I understand if you can't forgive me, I just... I just needed you to know. And that you were worth this," he said, making a sweeping gesture over the equipment, "even if it's too late. And I know it is." Daring a step closer, he shrugged, hands at his sides. "You're my best friend. More than a friend, you're like... like a soulmate. You get me. You might be the only person that actually, really gets me. I know I fucked up, but... maybe someday, we can be friends again? If.. you wanted...?"