The fairy lights strung across Bii's room cast a warm glow on her face as she belted out the last line of "Meddle About." My stomach did a nervous flip-flop. She wasn't just singing, she was living it.

Across the room, Ethan, the new guitarist she'd been hanging out with a lot lately, leaned back in his chair, a goofy grin plastered on his face. He strummed a random chord, eyes locked on Bii. My fists clenched a little tighter around the microphone stand.

Bii still in the middle of song, a triumphant smirk aimed at Ethan. He laughed, that easy, carefree laugh that seemed to come effortlessly. I forced a smile, clapping politely. "Great cover, Bii."

But the truth was, the song wasn't the only thing making my head spin anymore. It was the tangled mess of emotions churning in my gut – a cocktail of admiration, jealousy, and a dawning realization that maybe my feelings for Bii went a little deeper than just wanting to be her duet partner.