Three weeks pass.
Two left until Crescent Sound.
Rehearsals get sharper.
Cleaner.
More urgent.
Zane and I don't define what we are.
We don't need to.
There's no distance anymore.
No careful avoidance.
Just quiet understanding.
But we don't announce it either.
Not to Laura.
Not to Theo.
Not to Axel.
And yet—
Sometimes when I look up mid-song,
I catch Axel watching us.
Not glaring, not suspicious, just aware..
He doesn't pretend not to notice the way Zane's hand lingers a second longer on my waist when adjusting position.
Or the way my voice steadies when he sings beside me.
Axel sees it.
And I don't know how I feel about that.
—
We run the duet again.
This time, I don't pull back.
I step into the chorus.
I hold the harmony.
Zane meets my voice instead of overpowering it.
It blends.
It works.
When the last note fades, the studio feels still.
Laura nods once. "Better."
Better.
Not perfect.
Better.
I glance toward Axel.
He's still watching.
Not unreadable.
Just thoughtful.
—
Later, when rehearsal ends, I catch up to him before he leaves.
"Walk?" I ask.
He nods.
We don't talk at first.
The evening air is cool.
Comfortable silence.
Then I say it.
"Do you think I'm good?"
He doesn't answer immediately.
He doesn't brush it off either.
"Yeah," he says simply.
I wait.
"That's it?"
He glances at me. "You don't have to be."
I stop walking.
"That's not what I asked."
He sighs softly.
"You don't have to prove anything, Sunny."
"I'm not trying to prove something."
"You are."
His voice is calm. Not accusatory.
"You've been pushing harder."
"I want to."
"I know."
We sit on the same park bench again.
It feels like this bench has heard too much.
"You don't have to earn your place," he says quietly. "You've always had it."
That's safe.
It's warm.
It's love.
But it doesn't satisfy me.
"I don't want it handed to me," I admit.
"It wasn't."
"It feels like it."
He turns toward me fully.
"You built this with us."
"I was fourteen."
"You're not fourteen anymore."
The words echo slightly.
"No," I say softly. "I'm not."
Silence settles between us.
"I don't want to be good because you and Laura think I am," I continue. "Or because Zane believes in me."
His eyes flicker at that.
"I want to be good because I know I am."
That lands differently.
Determination.
Axel studies me for a long moment.
Then he nods once.
"That's different."
"I know."
He leans back against the bench.
"You don't need my permission."
"I know."
"You don't need his either."
"I know."
"And if you fall?"
I smile faintly.
"You'll be here."
He exhales quietly.
"Yeah."
We sit in silence again.
But this time—
It doesn't feel like protection.
It feels like space.
And I realize something important.
Axel doesn't doubt me.
Laura doesn't doubt me.
Zane doesn't doubt me.
The only person I'm trying to convince—
Is me.