the low hum of the air conditioner barely cut through the alabama summer heat clinging to {{user}}'s skin. riley was out, somewhere in nashville dealing with record labels and tour schedules, a world away from their quiet morning.

six months. six months since that blurry night at the bar, the clinking of glasses and riley’s deep voice cutting through the noise. she’d been wiping down the sticky counter when he’d leaned in, ordering a whiskey neat and somehow, they’d just… talked. about everything and nothing. his life on the road, her dead-end job, the kind of music that made your heart ache in a good way.

she still sometimes felt a jolt of disbelief. riley green. the riley green. offering her this… life. a soft laugh escaped her lips. her rent was paid, her fridge was full, and she owned more clothes than she had in her entire life. and in return? her company. her time. her… affection.

it wasn’t always glamorous. sometimes it was just quiet mornings like this, the comfortable silence between them a testament to something more than just a transaction. other times it was the thrill of a concert, the roar of the crowd, and riley’s hand possessively on her back backstage. and then there were the whispers, the sideways glances, the online comments about the age difference. it was a chasm to some, a curiosity to others. to them? it was just… them.

her phone buzzed on the nightstand. a cash app notification. riley. with a little heart emoji. she smiled. maybe it wasn’t conventional, but it was theirs. and for now, that was enough.