Melissa
Vanessa bolts out of the kitchen—because, as always, she's running late. I'm already ready, so I stay behind chatting with Konnor.
Shawn and Wenn went back to their room together. Zane is sitting quietly, phone in hand, distant. And Maeson followed Vanessa, asking her something, and never came back.
Konnor gets up and looks out the window. "Did you know there's a lady who walks by every day at the same time with an umbrella—even when it's not raining? I'm starting to think she's part of a social experiment."
"Or maybe she's a conceptual artist. The umbrella is her silent manifesto against routine," I say, settling into the couch and stretching my legs.
Konnor turns to me and says: "See? That's why I like you. No one else goes along with my absurd theories."
"They're not absurd. They're creative. And you seem to have a mind that never shuts off," I say, laughing.
Konnor shrugs. "If it shuts off, I get bored. And when I get bored, I start doing things like reorganizing books by color or writing letters to fictional characters."
"Letters to fictional characters? Between that and your t-shirts organized by emotional state, I'm starting to think you have more talents than you realize."
Konnor responds proudly, ignoring the second part: "Yeah. I once wrote a letter to Sherlock Holmes. Asked him for advice on dealing with people who don't understand sarcasm."
I laugh. "And did he reply?"
Konnor pauses dramatically. "No. But I felt heard. Which is almost the same."
With tenderness, I reply: "You're like a novel that can't be read straight through. You have to go page by page—with post-its and coffee."
Konnor gives me an exaggerated bow. "Thank you. I like to think I'm a limited edition."
We stay like that for a while, in our casual but deeply layered conversation. Until the house seems to come alive again. Vanessa, Shawn, Wenn, Maeson, and Zane are all back in the kitchen, ready to start the day.
Shawn
In the room
Remember how my girlfriend is currently in beta mode? Well, ever since we entered the room, she—who's usually full of energy, running around, organizing, picking out her clothes, changing my outfit choices for the day—is now sitting in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection deeply, like she's analyzing something, but says nothing. And I've already tripped twice trying to get dressed while watching her.
When she finally stands up, it's just to go into the bathroom, leaving me there without a word. Yep, I definitely did something.
When she comes out, I softly say: "Babe?..." And finally, she snaps out of her trance. She smiles at me like nothing's wrong and starts getting ready.
"Love, I'm going with the girls in my car today. I… need to talk to them about something," she says, no explanation—just like she's been doing lately.
"Okay, umm… Is everything okay, love?" I ask, a little scared.
"Of course," she says, coming over and giving me a sweet kiss. I feel a bit of calm return, but nothing shakes the feeling that something's going on and she's not telling me.
When we head out, everyone's ready for the day. Wenn tells the girls she'll drive them in her car. Vanessa and Melissa exchange strange looks, and I lock eyes with Maeson, who seems to notice something's up with that trio. They're hiding something. And I'm going to find out what.
We all say our goodbyes for now and head to the cars. Maeson, Konnor, Zane, and I take Maeson's car. The girls get into Wenn's car and drive off first.
In the car
The silence lasts only until the first traffic light. I can't hold it in anymore and blurt out—half joking, but with a tight heart: "Guys, have you noticed Wenn acting weird? I don't know, I feel like she's not telling me something and it's messing with my head."
Zane, who rarely misses a detail, nods and looks out the window before replying: "Yeah, she seems off. The move, being far from family—it weighs a lot. Give it time. Sometimes a change of city shakes more than you expect."
I sigh, but keep going—because I need to: "It's not just that, Zane. Lately she sleeps like she's never seen a bed, she's hungrier than I am after rehearsal, and her mood swings like the weather. The other day at the beach, she got super emotional, I responded normally, and everyone saw her runoff crying. Did I do something wrong?"
Maeson glances at me but says nothing. He crosses his arms and nods, like he already knows something I don't. Zane just smiles—complicit in some invisible secret: "Bro, sometimes things just need time. Trust me, it'll all fall into place when she's ready."
Konnor, who's been holding back laughter, finally drops his little poison: "Or maybe, Shawn, Wenn fell in love with Vanessa. Can you imagine? They've been looking at each other a lot lately. Careful she doesn't get stolen, bro."
"Don't say that!" I snap—halfway between joking and genuinely scared.
Maeson places a hand on my shoulder, calm, with a firm voice: "Bro, Wenn loves you. Just be careful and talk it through. Sometimes we drown in a glass of water."
Zane decides the mood needs saving and pulls out his phone: "Alright, let's drop the drama for a bit and sing with me."
He plays a song, and, without much choice, we all end up singing the chorus as the car rolls on toward the record label.