His phone was already in his hand—unlocked, notes app open. He'd been writing since he’d met her, lyrics that wouldn't leave him alone. The cursor blinked at the top of a blank page.
He held it out before he could stop himself.
"Write it down." His voice came out quieter than he meant. "What gets heard. What doesn't. Nothing goes out without you."
April
APRIL STARED AT THE PHONE. The screen was bright in the dim room. Notes app. A dozen half-finished song fragments in the preview.
It was the least romantic thing anyone had ever offered her and the most intimate.
“I’m not doing that here.”
Jiro's face shifted, sad puppy eyes becoming uncertain. Like he'd offered the only thing he had and didn't know what else to give.
"But I'm really glad you're here." She pushed the phone gently back toward him. "And I like that you asked first."
The phone disappeared into his pocket. He just stood there, like he’d lost his place.
April opened her arms.
Jiro stepped in and folded around her. Not a polite hug, not arms and distance—his whole body. He bent down and she didn't have to reach. His chest against hers, his arms wrapping her back, pulling her in tight. Her body fit against his.
His arms tightened. Like crawling under a pile of laundry fresh from the dryer when you're a kid—warm and heavy and safe in a way that makes you want to stay there forever.
Her shoulders dropped. Her breathing slowed, matched his without her choosing to. His heartbeat was steady against her cheek.
When she pulled back cold air hit her where warmth had been.
"Are we okay?" Jiro asked.
"We're okay."
“Can I stay?”
She smiled. “Yes you can stay.”
He reached for her hand.
April met him halfway. Their fingers laced.
"Come on," she said. "Let's go back."
They walked back to the booth together, and April felt the attention shift as the booth went quiet.
Six men. All watching.
Caleb leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, wearing an expression that suggested he was about to enjoy himself immensely at someone else’s expense. “So,” Caleb said. “Jiro.”
Jiro stopped. Waiting.
“You want in?” Caleb asked.
Jiro’s eyebrow did that small, amused thing. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
But then he looked at her; one last confirmation.
“Being here and belonging are different things.” Caleb’s smile sharpened in a way that probably looked great on camera and absolutely terrible in person. “You want in? Earn it.”
