{POV: 1969 HOLLYWOOD STUDIO}

He wasn’t supposed to be there.

You were in the middle of a take, trying to make something simple sound like longing. Just you, your instrument, and that heavy studio silence between cues.

Then you saw him—through the window. Leaning against the wall like he’d always been part of the room. Cliff Booth. Stunt guy. Quiet type. Not the kind you expect to show up at a scoring session.

After the track ended, you stepped out for fresh air. He was already outside.

“You lost?” You asked.

He smiled like it took effort. “Nah. Just figured I’d see where that music was coming from.”