Wenn
Melissa turned out to be like a slightly sharper version of Vanessa. They're very similar, and now that I know a bit about their lives, I understand why.
But while Vanessa is more of a dreamer, Melissa is more practical. While Vanessa seems to ask the clock for permission to move from one place to another and tries not to be late, Melissa is up at the crack of dawn, always ready, almost as if she doesn't have a single flaw. They're the perfect reflection of what their upbringing shaped—but they still hold onto their uniqueness and their hearts. And I can see there's much more behind their story that I'll get to know, if they let me in.
While Vanessa is in her interview, Melissa and I talk a bit about ourselves. And when Mel returns from speaking with Vane, I decide to ask for her help in planning my surprise for Shawn. Because let's be honest: she's a strategist. Just hearing about the escapes she's planned for herself and Vane gives me goosebumps. I don't need anything that dramatic—I don't think a helicopter on the beach dropping banners that say "You're going to be a dad" is the best idea—but I'm not ruling anything out.
Melissa glances at me sideways, like she already knows what I'm about to say.
"You want help telling Shawn, right?"
I nod, lowering my voice as if the hallway could hear me.
"Yes. I don't know how to do it. I've thought of a thousand ways, but they all feel like low-budget movies with high-budget effects."
Melissa chuckles softly, crossing her arms.
"What do you have in mind so far?"
Her words sound like an invitation to unload, and I, who've been holding this in for days, don't hesitate.
"I thought about writing him a song. Something sweet, intimate. I also considered hiring musicians, doing a surprise serenade… but I know that's just stress talking. Because Shawn's not like that. He hates anything over-the-top. He likes things simple, spontaneous. Straight from the heart—not from the spectacle."
Melissa nods, with that expression that blends tenderness and strategy.
"So you already know what you don't want to do."
"Exactly. But I don't know how to make something so big feel small without losing its weight. I don't want him to experience it as news that crushes him—but as something that embraces him."
Melissa stays silent for a few seconds, like she's assembling an invisible puzzle. Then she smiles. That smile that doesn't need words.
"I know what we're going to do."
I look at her, curious and nervous.
"Really?"
"Yes. And you're going to love it. Trust me."
She says nothing more. But she settles into her seat like she's just taken control of a secret mission. And for the first time in days, I feel like I'm not alone in this. We keep talking in low voices while the clock ticks and Vanessa continues her interview. I don't know what Melissa has in mind, but if it's her idea, it's bound to be perfect.
Konnor
My mind is spinning. Literally. I don't know if it's from lack of sleep, the excitement of the day, or because ever since I saw her on the beach, my life turned into a Tim Burton movie with a Wes Anderson filter. Everything's more colorful, more intense, more strange. It's wonderful. But also a little unsettling.
Without her, I was… well, the usual. Distant. Locked in my own world. Using humor as a shield, as anesthesia. I laughed to avoid thinking. So no one would ask. So no one would get too close.
But with her… everything makes a little more sense. I laugh for real. I want to be outside. I want to be the only thing she notices. But I know I'm not. And that—that's what hurts the most. Because I care. Way more than I should.
And even though I don't want to hurt Maeson, I don't want to lose my chance either. If I even have one. So I decide to go all in. My crazy ideas, my emotional chaos, my heart in "let's see what happens" mode. I'll worry later about whether I went too far… or just far enough.
While the guys and Vanessa—Chiara Vanessa García Rosetti, because yes, even her name is like her: beautiful and strange—walk out laughing at another one of those destiny coincidences that seem to intertwine us at every turn, I hang back. I approach Leo, who's reviewing something on his tablet, but with that face that says "I know you're about to interrupt me."
"Got a minute?" I ask, like I'm not about to drop an emotional bomb.
Leo looks up, studies me for a second, and nods.
"Always. What's up?"
I take a deep breath. Not just from nerves. Well, yes. But also because this… this matters.
"I want to sing a solo at the next concert. With the guys backing me, of course. But something special. Something mine."
Leo furrows his brow—not in annoyance, but in focus.
"Mine as in 'I want to show another side of myself,' or mine as in 'there's someone in the audience who needs to hear it'?"
I laugh. Because yes. He nailed it.
"More the second one. It's a song I wrote recently. I didn't think I'd ever show it. Until today."
Leo crosses his arms. Looks at me like he's seeing something in me he hadn't seen before.
"And why now?"
"Because now there's someone who makes everything make more sense. And if I don't say it now, I'll regret it. Even if it's just one song. Even if she doesn't get it. Even if Maeson gives me weird looks."
Leo doesn't answer right away. He just watches me. Like he's weighing the weight of everything I didn't say.
"Konnor, you've always been the one who hides emotions behind jokes. But this time… you're not hiding anything. You're showing. And that, to me, is already art."
I stay quiet. Because that… that hits me.
"So you're okay with it?"
Leo nods, firm.
"I think it's perfect. Just make sure it's your voice we hear. Not doubt's. Not fear's. Yours."
I breathe deeply again. This time, lighter.
"Thanks, Leo. Really."
He pats my shoulder, and then, with a conspiratorial smile, adds:
"And if the song ends in tears… let them be the good kind."
I laugh, freer.
"Or the dramatic kind. You know I don't do anything without a little chaos."
Leo walks away, but before he goes, he throws one last line:
"Then let it be chaos with purpose. That sells."
And I stay there, with the idea in my head, my heart in drum mode, and the hope that, for once, my chaos will be for more than just hiding.
Wenn
So now my dear friend Vanessa is also named Chiara, and she's half Italian. And she's the band's new photographer. I don't know how much more I can take with all these emotions, secrets, and revelations… without food in my system.
I stop in the middle of the hallway, hand on my stomach like a telenovela actress in her fainting scene.
"Enough! I need food. Now. If I don't eat soon, I'm going to start revealing secrets I didn't even know I had."
Melissa laughs, crossing her arms.
"Was that a threat or a warning?"
"It was a cry for help," I reply, dramatically.
Vanessa approaches, still glowing from the interview.
"I'm in. Eating sounds like the only sensible plan."
Maeson, who was in serious mode, relaxes instantly.
"I'm hungry too. And if we don't eat, Konnor's going to start improvising songs about meat pies or lamingtons."
Konnor raises his hands like he's been summoned.
"I've got the chorus! 'Meat pie of love, filled with passion…' No? Nothing?"
Zane laughs and pulls out his phone.
"I'm recording this. If we don't eat, at least let hunger give us viral content."
Shawn, who had been quiet, joins the chaos with a smile.
"Did someone say Italian food? Because now that we know Chiara's half Italian, it feels right. Pizza, pasta, something with lots of cheese and zero judgment."
Vanessa strikes a diva pose.
"I accept the tribute. But only if there's tiramisu."
Melissa raises an eyebrow.
"What if we go to that place with the terrace and hanging lights? The one with uncomfortable chairs but good food."
Maeson nods.
"Yes, that one. Though the chairs feel like they were designed by someone who hates spines."
Konnor crosses his arms, thoughtful.
"I vote for the burger place with movie-themed names. I want to order a 'Titanic with extra cheese.'"
Zane jumps in:
"What if we do a democratic vote? Though we all know we'll end up wherever Wenn says."
Konnor grins at me mischievously.
"Of course not. You just make suggestions with a threatening tone."
I shrug innocently.
"I don't threaten. I inspire decisions."
Zane gives me a look.
"Exactly."
Everyone moves between laughter, jokes, and menu plans. And as we walk toward the car, I feel that, for a moment, everything is okay. That between secrets, revelations, and chaos, there's something that binds us: hunger… and the love that's starting to simmer between us.