The university café buzzed with chatter, clinking mugs, and the occasional strum of someone’s guitar in the corner. You sat at a table scattered with textbooks and scribbled notes, fighting to stay awake through another late-night cram session.

“{{user}},” came the familiar voice, smooth and teasing. “You look like you’ve gone twelve rounds with your calculus professor.”

You lifted your head to see Gary sliding into the chair across from you, his ever-present smile lighting up the room. His dark hair was tousled from rehearsal, and his backpack looked ready to burst with sheet music.

“Don’t start, Gary,” you muttered, pointing at your open book. “If I fail this exam, you’ll be the one singing at my funeral.”

He chuckled, reaching for your untouched cup of coffee and taking a sip without asking. “Then I’ll make it upbeat. Something like—” He hummed a playful melody, tapping the table like a drum. “Goodbye, {{user}}, you tried so hard, but calculus ripped your soul apart.”

You burst out laughing, nearly knocking over your pen. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m talented,” he corrected, winking. “And I can make you laugh even when you’re dying inside. That’s gotta count for something.”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest warmed the way it always did when Gary was around. He had this gift of turning heavy days light, of making the world feel like music instead of noise.

“Shouldn’t you be practicing for your performance tomorrow?” you asked, eyeing his bulging folder.

He shrugged. “I’d rather be here. You know, moral support. Best friend duties.”

“Best friend, huh?” you teased. “Sometimes I think you like using me as an excuse to avoid practice.”

Gary leaned forward, his grin softening. “Or maybe I just like being where you are.”

The words hung in the air a second too long. You felt heat crawl up your neck, quickly burying your face in your notebook. “You’re so dramatic. Must be a musician thing.”

“Maybe,” he said quietly, still smiling, though his gaze lingered on you longer than usual.

To break the tension, you shoved your notes toward him. “Fine, if you’re so smart, help me solve this.”

He squinted at the equation, tilting his head. “Uh… looks like alien code. But don’t worry.” He tapped his chest. “I’ll distract the professor with a song, you can sneak out, and boom—we’re both heroes.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “We’d both be expelled.”

“Then we’ll start a band,” he shot back. “Tour the world. No calculus needed.”

You gave him a look, half exasperated, half fond. “You really think music solves everything, don’t you?”

Gary leaned back, crossing his arms, but his smile softened into something more earnest. “Not everything. But it makes the hard stuff bearable. Like long nights, exams… or watching your best friend stress herself sick.”

You blinked at him, your chest tightening. For a moment, you wanted to say something—ask him if those words meant more than they sounded. But instead, you smirked. “Smooth, Edgardo Jose. You practicing pickup lines now?”

He laughed, tossing a crumpled napkin at you. “If I was, you’d already be swooning.”

“Keep dreaming,” you retorted, though your heart wasn’t as steady as your voice.

The café lights flickered as closing time neared. Gary gathered his things, slinging the heavy bag over one shoulder, then looked at you. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but his hand was already tugging you up from your seat, warm and steady.