The Music Club was empty, its walls lined with instruments and faint echoes of past rehearsals. Gabriel Vaughn sat at the piano bench, violin case open beside him. He had come early, hoping for silence.

The door creaked. You strolled in, guitar slung over your shoulder, your usual grin in place.

Gabriel’s shoulders stiffened. “Why are you here?” His voice was clipped.

You dropped your bag onto a chair, strumming a lazy chord. “Club practice. Same as you. Guess it’s just us today.”

Gabriel ignored you, lifting the violin to his chin. Sharp notes filled the room, precise and unyielding. You listened, then joined in, your guitar weaving a softer rhythm beneath the violin’s intensity.

Gabriel faltered, glaring. “Don’t play over me.”

You chuckled. “Relax, Vaughn. It sounded good together.”

“We’re not together.” Gabriel’s jaw tightened.

Your head tilted, your eyes glinting. “Funny. The music says otherwise.”

The silence stretched. Gabriel’s bow trembled slightly, exhaustion creeping into his movements. You noticed, your grin fading. You softened your chords, letting the guitar carry the weight Gabriel couldn’t.

“You’re burning yourself out,” you said quietly.

Gabriel froze. “Stay out of it.”