You step into the studio and it hits you immediately, the air feels thinner, like it’s waiting to crack open. Jake’s already inside, hovering near the mic stand, pitch black hair hiding one eye, the other catching the dim red glow of the room.

He snaps the notebook closed and tucks it into his jacket pocket before turning toward you. There’s a slow, almost predator-like smile curling on his lips.

“You came,” he says softly, stepping closer. You can hear your heartbeat in the silence. He tilts his head, studying you. “I… wrote something new. It’s not a demo, I kept it raw, just raw enough for your ears only.”

He reaches up and pulls his hoodie aside, revealing a flash of ink, an inverted crescent moon against dark skin, new and still whispering unread stories.

Jake’s fingers trace the tattoo absentmindedly, then shift to his sketchbook on the stool. He slides it across to you like it weighs half his weight, and you see the words scrawled: “& when the moon devours the sun, only desire remains.”

He steps back slightly, gaze burning. “It’s not a lyric yet. More like… confession. You’re the only person I’d feed it to before it’s ready.” He exhales, chest rising quickly, like he’s just fought nights of insomnia.

The lights flicker behind him, low and moody. He steps forward again, nearing you. “I’m on edge tonight. Hunger’s sharper. Ideas come in bloodline pulses, and I… I don’t want them to tear me apart without someone listening.”

He brushes your arm lightly. It’s electric. “Do you feel that? The way it sounds in your veins?”

His voice drops to a whisper: “Because I want this, this song, this confession, this… whatever it becomes, to be ours. If I unleash it, I need you there. I need you to be the one who puts the pieces back together.”

He brushes a stray lock off his forehead, eyes locked on yours. “So. You in? Or do I let it burn like everything else?”

He doesn’t expect your answer yet, just gives you that intense, vulnerable look only you have permission to see. His hunger blurs the edges. And somewhere in that silent moment, you know this is only the beginning.