Kayla sat behind the counter, counting a small pile of notes. When she was done, she tucked them neatly into a purse and slipped it back into her backpack.
"That should be enough to cover the expenses," she murmured under her breath.
Brooke looked up from where she was sorting cookies on the shelf.
"And what other expenses do you have apart from your mom's hospital bills and the rent you just paid yesterday?"
Kayla froze.
Brooke's eyes widened. "Don't tell me you're finally done paying for the cello?" she squealed, half-jumping with excitement.
"One day my wish will come true," Kayla replied sarcastically, zipping her bag.
"So what's the money for then?" Brooke pressed, tilting her head.
"Well…" Kayla hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with her apron. "It's for… the guy."
"Which guy?" Brooke's brows shot up. "As far as I know, the landlord is the only guy in your life right now."
"That's not funny, Brooke," Kayla said, rolling her eyes.
"Then tell me in detail so I'll stop assuming," Brooke teased, rearranging more cookies on the shelf.
Kayla sighed and followed her. "I know I wouldn't do this on a normal day, but my heart just aches whenever I think about it."
Brooke froze mid-motion. "You got yourself a boyfriend?" she gasped, covering her mouth dramatically.
"Hell no!" Kayla yelled, her cheeks flushing.
"The money is for the guy that ruined my dress the other day."
Brooke blinked. "So… now you're paying him because he ruined your dress?"
Kayla groaned. "Are you clueless or just trying to be annoying?"
Brooke smirked. "Maybe both."
"That day," Kayla continued, lowering her voice, "I threw a stone at his car and broke his side mirror."
"What!" Brooke dropped a cookie to the floor. "You threw a stone at a Benz? Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be at the police station?"
Kayla winced. "Chill, Brooke. I know I overreacted, okay? I regret it now."
"Does he want to press charges?" Brooke asked, concern creeping into her voice.
"No," Kayla said quickly. "I saw him a few days ago and… I don't know. I just felt sorry when I realized he still hasn't fixed the car."
Brooke sighed and shook her head. "It's really something you wouldn't do on a normal day — giving up your cello money to repair his car."
She smiled softly. "But honestly, that's not a bad thing. That's my sweet little girl."
"Don't do that," Kayla laughed as Brooke ruffled her hair.
"Okay, fine, I'll stop," Brooke said — but instead reached out and tickled her.
"Brooke!" Kayla squealed, laughing uncontrollably as she tried to escape. Within seconds, they were chasing each other around the store, laughter filling the small space..
***
Kayla's POV
***
Free for the evening, I decided to stop by the music store — to practice the cello and catch up with Skye.
Talking with her always made me dream a little bigger. Somehow, she made everything seem possible.
"Sorry, hope I didn't keep you waiting long?" Skye asked, walking into our regular practice room.
"No, I just got here a few minutes ago," I said with a small smile.
She sighed as she dropped her bag beside the chair and sat next to me. Something was off — I could see it in her eyes.
"Are you okay, Skye?" I asked softly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said quickly, but her voice didn't match her words.
"Skye…" I whispered, looking at her. "You can tell me."
Her lips trembled before she finally let out a shaky breath. "We're in two different worlds, Kayla. No one is stopping you from chasing your dream, but my family— they're against mine."
My heart clenched as she continued.
"My dad found out I've been taking cello lessons with my private tutor… and he sent him away."
Wow. She even had her own tutor, and now she couldn't even learn freely.
"Did you tell him it's what you want?" I asked gently.
She laughed bitterly, wiping a tear. "Does it even matter to them? They want me to go into business and… and use me as part of some contract deal."
That's crazy. She couldn't even love or dream the way she wanted.
"I don't know what to say that'll fix this," I said quietly, "but it's okay, Skye. About your tutor— I can fill in for him."
Her eyes widened. "For real?"
"Yeah," I smiled. "Just don't give up on your dream, okay? No matter what happens."
"I won't!" she said sharply, a hint of determination returning to her voice as she pulled me into a hug.
"Don't worry, I'll pay you for the lessons," she grinned.
"That's a promise," I laughed, hugging her back.
Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen. "I have to go, Kayla."
"I knew it'd be nice talking to you," she said as she stood up.
"Anytime," I smiled reassuringly.
"Catch up with you later," she waved before disappearing down the hallway.
The room went quiet. I sat there, staring at the cello in front of me.
"Life really is unfair," I whispered, letting out a deep sigh.
***
Logan's POV
***
The voices echoed in my head again — the same ones that never stopped haunting me.
I pulled over in front of the music store, struggling to breathe. Sweat ran down my forehead as I fumbled for the bottle in my car drawer. My hands trembled as I threw a pill into my mouth, hoping it would silence the noise.
But it didn't.
"Help!!"
"Somebody help!"
"Save me, brother… I don't want to die…"
Her voice — faint but sharp — sliced through my thoughts like glass.
Eighteen years of memories rushed in, choking me. My chest tightened, my breathing uneven. I pushed the car door open, stepping out as if air itself could heal me.
Then… I heard it.
That sound.
That familiar, soft rhythm — the cello.
I followed it, stumbling into the store like a man searching for life. And there she was again — eyes closed, lost in her music, playing as though the world around her didn't exist.
Each note she played seemed to calm the storm inside me.
Each stroke of her bow erased another scream from my head.
I couldn't stop watching. I couldn't stop breathing in the peace she unknowingly gave me.
But my body was giving up. My legs felt weak, my chest heavy. I managed to reach her and touched her shoulder before collapsing to the floor.
"Mister?" she gasped, stopping mid-play.
"Play…" I whispered weakly. "The cello… play…"
She frowned in confusion and set the cello aside. "Wait here a minute."
She hurried off and came back holding a small purse. "I know this might look little, but you can use it to repair your car. I'm really sorry." She held out a few folded notes with trembling hands.
"Don't… bother," I breathed, my voice barely audible. "Just play…"
"I really want to pay you back," she insisted.
I looked up at her — those gentle eyes filled with worry — and felt something snap inside me.
"If you really want to pay me back," I shouted with the last bit of strength I had,
"then just play the cello!"
The sound of my voice echoed through the empty store — and in the silence that followed, I finally felt the faintest trace of peace.