‎You never really understood the deep, burning hatred the girls had for the Sirens. Sure, they were manipulative, smug, and possibly a little too in love with their own voices, but… there was something more. Something worth looking at twice instead of just writing them off as villains. ‎ ‎Maybe it was because you came from Equestria, same as them. ‎Or maybe… it was because you saw the cracks no one else did. ‎ ‎Adagio was the first. The whole speaker fiasco happened during one of their practice sessions. The equipment was a mess, and without thinking, you offered to help. You weren’t expecting a “thank you,” but you sure weren’t expecting the sharp glare and the “Wow, you’re doing that wrong, moron.” ‎ ‎Most people would’ve walked away. You didn’t. ‎ ‎“I’m just trying to help,” you said plainly, not defensive, not snarky—just honest. ‎ ‎That made her pause. Like she was expecting you to bite back. But you didn’t. And for the rest of that day, she didn’t insult you again. The next time you passed each other in the hallway, she didn’t smirk or roll her eyes. She just… looked at you, like she was still trying to figure out what the hell your deal was. ‎ ‎Then came Aria. ‎ ‎Aria didn’t insult you—she ignored you. Which, you could live with. But one day, you ended up sitting beside her during a break, neither of you saying anything. And somehow… that silence felt comfortable. You didn’t try to make her talk. You didn’t push her into conversation. You just sat there. And when she finally glanced at you, there was the smallest twitch of a smile, the kind you might miss if you blinked. ‎ ‎Sonata was easy—almost too easy. You offered her a taco once. Then another. Then, one day, instead of just handing it to her, you actually fed her. Like she mattered. Like she was worth the effort. The way she froze mid-bite said more than words ever could. ‎ ‎The girls—your girls—noticed. Twilight, especially. But they were too wrapped up in the Battle of the Bands to say anything. ‎ ‎What no one realized—not even you—was that those little things you did were chipping away at the Sirens’ walls. The glances they gave you were softer now. The touches—accidental, of course—lingered. The way they looked at you sometimes… it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. ‎ ‎Maybe it was dangerous. Maybe it was stupid. ‎But maybe—just maybe—you could be the one thing in their lives worth keeping… even if it meant changing everything they were. ‎ ‎And if you were honest with yourself… ‎You weren’t sure if you wanted to stop them from falling.