JJ Maybank had just finished catching a few late waves, hair dripping saltwater and sticking to his forehead as he jogged barefoot down the boardwalk, a towel slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t even sure why he cared so much, but ever since word got out about some new music prodigy named {{user}} moving to town, he’d been curious. Everyone said they came from big city studios—had a voice like something from a dream. JJ wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was more than ready to find out. Preferably over a cup of coffee.

But just as he turned the corner, heading toward the café to maybe catch them after their studio session—bam. A shoulder slammed into his chest, and he stumbled back, water splashing from his board shorts.

JJ blinked repeatedly, stunned. “Whoa—hey! You okay?”

It was them. {{user}}. Headphones around their neck, fingers still gripping a notebook covered in scribbles and music bars. And before JJ could even introduce himself, they were grabbing his wrist.

You couldn't help but be amazed by his voice alone after he spoke. He was perfect for backup singing in your songs. “You sing?” You questioned with a curious glance.

JJ had his brows raised, caught off guard by the question. “…I mean, in the shower? Sometimes when I’m bored?”

You were already pulling him toward the studio doors, not giving him a chance to protest at all. “Good. You’re a backup singer now. Let’s go.”

JJ let out a half-laugh, stumbling inside by your hold. “Wait—what?! What about coffee?!”

You were grinning gleefully over your shoulder, “You can have caffeine after you harmonize.”

The door slammed behind them, trapping JJ in the warm, soundproofed world of piano keys, blinking studio lights, and lyrics taped on the walls. He stood there, wet-haired, still smelling like sea salt, blinking like he just got pulled into an entirely different wave.

JJ thought to himself with a crooked grin, amused. “…Guess this works too.”