The city hummed softly around them—neon signs buzzing, distant traffic humming, a couple walking their dog trailing laughter behind them. Zane kicked a pebble off the curb.
"I still can't believe that vending machine by our old school still sells melon soda," he muttered.
Axel gave a short laugh. "You've been weirdly obsessed with melon soda since forever."
Zane shrugged. "Some things stick."
The two walked side by side under the orange glow of streetlamps, the night mild, cool enough for light jackets and old stories.
"So," Zane said, glancing sideways, "you and Laura… how did that even happen? You were never really the 'piano duet' type."
Axel grinned. "I wasn't. Not at first."
He told him about the little community center gig, the frayed guitar strap, the off-key charm of that night. How she had found him by the vending machine afterward, how they spoke like strangers who already knew the weight of each other's dreams. He skipped the details—but Zane caught the softness in his tone when he spoke her name.
"She was different," Axel finished. "Not flashy. But real. You'd think someone that tightly wound would be stiff, but… she got it. I don't even know if she liked playing back then, but she needed it. Like breathing."
Zane was quiet for a moment. "She still does."
They crossed a pedestrian bridge. Below, a train passed with a whoosh of warm air and rhythm.
"And Euphony?" Zane asked.
"She made it real. A year after that show. I'd taken a gap year, tried solo gigs but… something was missing. Then one night she just messaged me: 'I'm ready to try this, if you are.'"
Zane smirked. "She asked you out."
"Shut up," Axel laughed.
They kept walking. Eventually, Zane broke the silence.
"Sunny kissed me last night."
Axel nearly tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. "What."
"Well… I kissed her. But she didn't pull away."
Axel blinked. "And you're telling me this now?"
Zane shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Wasn't sure how I felt about it. Still not. She's... sweet. And crazy talented. And she looks at me like I'm someone worth listening to."
Axel gave a low whistle. "So you're actually into her."
"I think I might be," Zane said, quieter now. "But she's new to all this. I don't want to mess her up."
"You mean like you did with every other girl you've dated?" Axel teased.
"Exactly."
They stopped at a street corner. Zane leaned against the lamppost, eyes tilted skyward. "Do you ever feel like… the more people cheer, the lonelier it gets?"
Axel's smile faded. "Yeah."
Zane looked down. "You had Laura. And now Sunny and that whole trio thing. But me? I get off stage and there's no one. Not really."
Axel clapped a hand to his shoulder. "Then maybe it's time you stopped playing solo all the time."
Zane didn't reply, but he didn't shake him off either.
---
The city glittered beneath him.
From the floor-to-ceiling windows of his rented penthouse, Tokyo stretched out in a constellation of lights—vending machine blues, taxi reds, the soft, dreamy gold of apartment windows glowing in the dark. Zane leaned against the glass, arms crossed loosely, a cold can of soda untouched in his hand.
He wasn't sure why he always ended up here—alone—after nights that felt a little too honest.
The penthouse had cost him a fortune to rent during his Suginami stay, but he'd figured: why not? He had the money. He had the reputation. Might as well live like it.
It had a marble kitchen island he barely used, a giant TV he almost never turned on, and a balcony that overlooked the entire ward—perfect for parties. And parties he had. Flashy ones. Loud ones. The kind where influencers posed in the mirror of his bathroom and clinked glasses with strangers they'd forget by morning.
But now, with no crowd to distract him, it felt hollow. Like an empty stage after the curtain falls.
He took a sip. The soda had gone flat.
His thoughts drifted, as they always did when the noise stopped.
To his family.
To the way his mom used to forget school pickup unless one of his siblings reminded her. To the dinner table where his older brother always got the praise. "Top of his class," "captain of the team," "such a role model." Meanwhile, Zane's antics were written off as "too much energy," "a handful," "you'll understand when you're older."
He had understood now.
In a family that big, attention was a competition. And Zane had been losing from the start.
Maybe that's why he craved the spotlight. Not just for the performance. But for the proof—that he mattered.
That he could be seen.
And he was seen now. Thousands of followers, full crowds, reporters who quoted him like he was someone important. But still... he couldn't always tell who liked Zane and who just liked the idea of him.
Except...
Euphony Trio felt different.
Axel, especially. An old pal, sure—but more than that. Zane had looked up to him since his very first year of high school. Axel never chased attention. He earned it. Cool, grounded, always strumming that beat-up guitar like nothing else mattered. He never showed off. And yet people listened.
Zane remembered that first performance like it was yesterday.
He couldn't believe Axel had chosen to perform with him—even briefly. It felt like a silent nod of approval from someone Zane had lowkey idolized. Even now, years later, it still meant something.
Then there was Laura.
So much discipline. So much precision. Every note she played had purpose. She was, in many ways, the opposite of him. But Zane couldn't shake the feeling that beneath all that perfection... was someone who wanted to let go. Just once. Just enough to breathe.
They clashed because they were mirrors—different frames, same fire inside.
And Sunny...
Zane closed his eyes and let her name fill the space.
She was whimsical. Scatterbrained. Overflowing with color and ideas and warmth she didn't even realize she radiated. Her visuals had stunned him—unrefined, yes, but real. She was real.
And the kiss...
He didn't regret it.
Not even close.
He could still feel the way her breath hitched just before it happened. The soft surprise in her eyes. The way she leaned in—hesitant, but trusting.
It wasn't just attraction. Not for him.
He liked her. That much, he could admit to himself.
But he also knew his pattern. Zane was great at first impressions, at getting attention. But keeping someone? Letting them see past the showman, past the cocky grin?
That was the hard part.
He didn't want to ruin this. He didn't want her to become just another girl who walked away once she saw the cracks.
He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. Then wandered into the living room, grabbing his DSLR from the shelf. His real love, behind the scenes. He didn't talk about it much, but photography grounded him.
It wasn't loud. It didn't ask for applause.
It just... captured the truth.
Zane flicked the lens cap off and stepped onto the balcony. The air was cold. He snapped a few shots of the skyline, then aimed the camera at the reflection in the sliding door.
Himself.
Framed by city lights.
For a second, he didn't smile. Didn't pose.
Just looked. Quiet and honest.
The shutter clicked.
---
His phone buzzed.
A message from Sunny.
"Hey. Just wanted to say thanks again. For everything yesterday. Sleep well, okay? :)"
He stared at the text.
Then typed back:
"You too. And Sunny?"
"Yeah?"
"That kiss wasn't just for fun. I meant it."
Three dots appeared. Then stopped. Then appeared again.
"…me too."
Zane smiled.
For once, the silence didn't feel so heavy.