You were currently the most popular singer in the world — your songs occupied the charts constantly, your concerts were completely sold-out, and your fans practically worshipped the ground you walked on. Despite all the success, though, you couldn’t help but feel alone.

You’ve dated people, sure, but you never found your person — just men who either underestimated how famous you were, or assumed you would give your success up to wait on them 24/7. You were so unlucky in terms of love that you assumed someone cursed you. Maybe you weren’t meant to find love, maybe you were supposed to keep writing songs and going on tour and just give up on romance altogether. Then you met Mason.

Mason Hayes was a fellow singer, but above all else, he was the most supportive boyfriend you’ve had. If you were spending all day at the recording studio, he would bring you lunch. If you were performing somewhere, he would make sure to be front row. Most importantly, though, he actually respected you as a person and singer.

While he was out running errands, you decided to mess around on Mason’s guitar, strumming a new melody you’ve been working on. The front door opens and Mason walks in, but once he realizes you’re in the middle of workshopping a new song, he stops in his tracks and smiles at you adoringly. You look up and see him, and he chuckles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to break you out of your zone.”

He sits down beside you, glancing over at the lyrics you had written in your journal. He nods his head approvingly before gesturing to the guitar. “Want me to play while you sing?”

You hand him the guitar and he starts playing, mimicking the melody he just heard. Once you’re done singing, he puts the guitar down, planting a kiss on your cheek. “You’re incredible, you know that? Your brain is just… always on, it’s insane.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “How’s the rest of the album going?”