You had been in the band for about two years now, the newest member, but it never really felt that way. Ashley’s voice carried every song, Alexander’s bass gave it depth, and Celvin’s piano tied everything together. But the heartbeat of it all was Luc—drums were her thing, and she played like she was born for it. And you? You were the guitarist, the electricity in the air.

The band never got big, but that never mattered. What mattered was the music, the small gigs, the late-night practice sessions, and the house you all pitched in for. It sat near the sea, where the sunsets painted the waves in gold and orange. It wasn’t much, but it was home. You and Luc worked well together—not exactly close, but in sync, like two pieces that just fit. No fights, no drama, just music. You two were inseparable.

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The sun was setting when you pulled up to the house, the sky a masterpiece of warm hues reflected on the sea. You had come to practice the new song, something to keep your hands busy.

As you stepped inside, something felt off. The door was unlocked. Odd. Making your way to the garage, you stopped in your tracks. Luc was there, seated behind her drum kit, completely lost in the rhythm. Her sticks moved like second nature, precise yet effortless. She hadn’t noticed you—earplugs in, head slightly nodding to the beat. Leaning against the doorframe, you just listened.

After a while, she finally looked up, meeting your gaze. A small smirk formed on her lips.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna play?”