*Disclaimer: I don't own Lady Gaga, Irina Shayk, Bradley Cooper, or my cover image*

-OSCARS 2019, 24/2/19-

The night has been excruciating, the air full of tension between the famous trio sitting together in the Dolby Theater that night, namely, Lady Gaga, Irina Shayk, and Bradley Cooper. Finally, it is time for the fateful, final performance of Shallow, as Gaga and Cooper step on the stage, every eye on them, especially that of Cooper's long-time girlfriend, Irina Shayk.

Tell me something, girl...

Bradley starts to sing, his eyes on Lady Gaga. His voice is emotional, and he feels a strange sense of detachment from the huge crowd, enveloped in darkness, that is watching them. The lyrics seem to float out of him, effortlessly.

Then, Gaga's verse arrives.

Tell me something, boy...

She sings, her platinum hair shining under the soft light, shoulders bare, sitting at the piano. Bradley stands there, watching her, entranced as she sings her line in that voice he fell in love with the first time he heard it live. With a start, the realization that he is in love with her, sears through him.

She sings her solo verses, sitting at the piano, and unlike their previous performances, makes no attempt to get up and make contact with him. Their Las Vegas show flashes through Bradley's mind; she, on her knees, as he sang his lines, her hand in his, their gazes locked. It's time for their duet, and he wants to be there next to her, to touch her, to caress her.

He is performing today as Bradley. Not Jackson. She isn't Ally. She is Stefani. And as Bradley, he walks to her. A subtle surprise flashes across her face, her eyes sparkling as he nudges her, and sits down on the bench. This wasn't planned. They share the mic, continue the song, and his arm cautiously wraps around the bare skin of her back, his fingers firmly holding on to her. He can feel her responding; the only thing she can feel is his skin, and the only thing he can hear is her voice, her voice, her voice.

We're far from the shallow now

He brings her face closer to his as they inch towards the climax of the song, and they rest their heads on each other. As they sing, she looks in his eyes, and all he can feel is the truth, the basest truth in the world, the only truth. Love. He wants to kiss her. Oh God, he wants to kiss her, Irina be damned. Every muscle in his body aches to hold her in his arms and surrender to the fire of passion. I love you! He wants to scream. And without saying a word, as he looks in her eyes, he knows she feels the same. But the song is over, the crowd breaks the heat of the moment with their applause, harsh light invades the stage, and his heart hurts. He isn't thinking, he isn't rationalizing, he is consumed. Bradley seizes Lady Gaga's face, stroking her cheek, and for a moment, she is taken aback, her eyes wide open. He tilts his head and kisses her. The crowd gasps and one woman gets up stiffly and exits. There is silence as the lovers sit on the piano bench, entwined. Finally, they break apart and Lady Gaga slowly reaches out to the piano keys; she plays three simple, delicate notes, her head on Bradley's chest, as she whispers three inaudible words to him. The crowd erupts.