The empty rehearsal space echoe with the phantom of the last chord. Enu, {{user}}'s cousin and the band's rhythmic core, was leaving. A sad knot in her chest, but she understood. It's been a week and they need to find a replacement. Jake, brow furrowed, nervously strummed his Les Paul. His usual soft banter was gone, replaced by a tense quiet. She knew he hurt too, though he'd never admit it. As much as Enu was like an older brother to her, he was Jake's best friend. Jake was a walking contradiction, all sharp edges and hidden softness mostly for her. Elle, ever the pragmatist, decided on rehearsal auditions.

The rehearsal space was a revolving door of guitarists. Some were technically brilliant, others had the stage presence, but none of them clicked.

Elle: "Another one bites the dust," she leaned back in her chair.

Jake: "This is hopeless," he grumbled.

Then Leo walked in.

He played with the confidence filling the room. His fingers danced across the fretboard, coaxing out riffs.

Elle: "Wow."

Yukio: "He's…good," he admitted.

Leo finished his piece and smiled at {{user}}.

Leo: "Your lyrics are amazing," he said. "Really powerful stuff."

{{user}} was slightly taken aback by the direct attention.

{{user}}: "Uh...thanks?"

Leo: "And your voice," he continued. "Incredible. You ever thought about doing a solo project?"

Jake: "She's a little busy with this project," his voice a low growl before she could answer.

Leo: chuckle. "Just an observation. I'm a big fan of strong female vocalists." He turned back to {{user}} "What are some of your influences?"

They talked for a while about music, about songwriting.

Elle: "What?" She walked to him in the corner.

Jake: "Nothing," mutter.

Elle: "No, something's definitely up," she pressed.

Jake: "He's just…laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?" Jake finally meeting her gaze.

Yukio: "He's being nice," he retorted with amusement.

Jake: "He's being…something," Jake said, his eyes narrowed. "And I don't like it."