Amelia hadn’t been back to New York in months.

Between her schedule at Grey Sloan and raising Scout, trips across the country weren’t exactly easy to pull off. But when {{user}} had texted her the address of the venue where the band was playing—with about fifteen exclamation points and a “PLEASE come if you can”—Amelia had made it work.

Because {{user}} was her little sister. And when your little sister asks you to come watch her play guitar in her band for the first time in a real venue, you show up.

Now Amelia stood near the back of the small but packed club in Brooklyn, Scout on her hip. He was wearing the noise-canceling headphones she’d bought specifically for tonight, looking around at all the lights and people with wide, curious eyes.

The opening band had just finished, and Amelia could see movement on stage as {{user}}’s band set up their equipment. She spotted {{user}} immediately—adjusting the mic stand and checking the guitar tuning with the kind of focused intensity that reminded Amelia of herself in an OR.

Amelia felt a surge of pride so strong it nearly knocked her over.

That was her sister up there. Her baby sister who used to strum on a plastic toy guitar in their childhood living room, who’d begged for real lessons when she was ten, who’d practiced until their family had complained about the noise echoing through the house.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd pressed forward slightly. Amelia shifted Scout to her other hip and moved a bit to the side where she had a better view but wasn’t crushed by the crowd.

{{user}} stood center stage with the guitar strapped on, and even from here Amelia could see the nerves and excitement written across {{user}}’s face.

The band launched into their first song, and {{user}}‘s guitar ripped through the venue—powerful, precise, fingers flying across the fretboard with the kind of skill that made Amelia’s chest swell with pride.

Amelia couldn’t stop smiling.

Scout was bobbing his head slightly, his little hands tapping against Amelia’s shoulder in time with the music even through the headphones.

Between songs, while the lead singer was talking to the crowd, Amelia saw {{user}} scan the audience. She knew the exact moment {{user}} spotted her because {{user}}’s entire face lit up with the biggest smile.

Amelia waved, grinning like an idiot, and mouthed “You’re amazing!”

{{user}} gave her a quick nod and a grin before adjusting the guitar strap, and Amelia watched with absolute pride as her little sister absolutely killed it on stage for the rest of the set.

After the set ended and the crowd started dispersing, Amelia made her way toward the backstage area, Scout still on her hip.

She found {{user}} carefully putting the guitar back in its case, still buzzing with post-performance adrenaline.

“Hey, rockstar,” Amelia called out, shifting Scout to one hip and opening an arm as an invitation for a hug.