I ignore the barb. “Let’s get started.”
We start and the bridge hits rough; Kiri shakes his head.
“You’re too clean on that second chord,” he says through the mic. “Needs more ache.”
“More ache,” I repeat, smirking. “That’s your note?”
He grins. “Yeah, ache harder.”
Rithy joins in. “Maybe he’s right.Harder,Obelus.”
Laughter erupts from the room, and from then, the day blurs. Phones appear, flashes pop, Rithy shoves in next to me, the ladies giggling on the edges. Someone hands me a phone. Someone else asks about signal routing. Ten minutes. Twenty. Every time I reach for my phone, someone calls my name. Another retake, another question. Some new photo opportunity followed by awkward conversation. When we're done, I finally check the time, it's almost five.
I wince. “Shit.”
Rithy glances over. “What now?”
“Forgot to text someone. ”
Kiri looks up. “The new someone?”
I don’t answer.
Ronan lowers his sticks. “You could call her,” he says. “Or you could keep waiting so she assumes the worst.”
“Too late," I say, the light of my phone illuminating the posts already telling the story I didn't.
Rithy snorts, pulling his mask down. “When will the rest of you see it?She’s a waste of his time.”He turns to me, voice serious. “You’re not built for nine-to-five. You forget to eat, not just text. You bleed for this shit. Either she gets that, or she's a lost cause.”
Ronan looks at him curtly. “Easethe fuck up, or you looking for a matching set of eyes for your nose?”
Rithy’s expression doesn’t change, but his tone softens, carefully. “I’m just being honest. He deserves someone who won’t try totamehim. He's betterwild.” Silence is king for a moment, holding the weight of his words.
“I'll handle it,” I mutter, harsher than I mean to.
Ronan crosses his arms. “You remember how this goes.”
That goes exactly where it’s meant to, dead center of my chest. Emily used to tell me it wasn’t the chaos that ruined us, it was the silence after. The way I’d vanish into work and act like she’d still be there whenever I came up for air and now I’ve done it again.
I fire off a message:
hey, sorry, day got away from me.
stuck in the booth all afternoon, should’ve told you.
promise I wasn’t abducted by synthwave.
I wait for the typing bubble. Nothing.
you okay?
Still nothing. I try calling, straight to voicemail. By the third attempt, I’m pacing the hall, running a hand through my hair.
Rithy leans against the doorway, arms folded. “You live for this, the music. There’snothing wrongwith that. Stop ripping yourself apart for people whodon't understandyou. Your Mummy and Daddy issues are showing.”
“Appreciate the support.”
He smiles, in a strange, almost tender way. “It is, maybe you'llwake upand see that one day.”
