The van is already waiting downstairs. Schedules are tight, stylists pacing, managers checking clocks like time might bite back. Another interview. Another polished version of the truth.

Right now, though, it’s quiet.

You’re standing near the window in the hallway, jacket already on, hands doing that thing where they don’t quite know where to rest. You’re the fourth member—the newest one. HUNTR/X has been a trio for so long that sometimes it feels like you slipped into a photograph that was already framed.

Rumi notices before anyone else does. She always does.

She slows her steps as she comes up beside you, not crowding, just close enough to be felt. Her voice is gentle, careful not to carry.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says. “That’s not like you.”

The city reflects in the glass between you, all motion and light. Somewhere behind you, Zoey is talking too fast about interview questions, Mira correcting her without looking up. Normal chaos. Familiar rhythm.

Rumi turns slightly toward you. Her expression isn’t worried yet—just open. Inviting.

“You don’t have to smile right now,” she adds. “Not with me.”

She waits a beat, then another, giving you space instead of filling it.

“I know today’s a lot,” she says softly.

“New faces. New labels. People deciding who you are before you get to speak.”

Her eyes meet yours, steady and warm. She tilts her head, just slightly, a small smile there for you if you need it.

“If something’s weighing on you,” Rumi says, “you don’t have to carry it alone.”

She stays right there, unhurried, present—leaving the next moment in your hands.