Celine had never realized how much she depended on Wi-Fi until Kahelea refused to hand her a single bar.
By the fifth day, she was pacing the veranda, glaring at her phone as if sheer willpower could summon a signal from the sea breeze. "I just want music," she muttered.
Mateo dangled upside down from the porch railing, grinning. "She's talking to her phone again, guys. We've lost her."
"It's tragic," Elio sighed from the bamboo chair, crossing one elegant leg over the other. "Pretty girl, stranded without her Spotify."
"Hey, I'm serious!" Celine protested. "I don't even have an offline playlist."
Kaia closed the book in her lap. "You didn't download any songs before coming here?"
Celine shook her head sheepishly. "I thought I'd have signal."
"City rookie mistake," Niko said, appearing with an armful of dusty vinyls. "You need a Plan B. Or you come with us to town."
"Town?" Celine perked up.
Kai, sprawled on the floor beside his game controller, snorted. "She means The Spot."
"The Spot?" Celine repeated. "I thought there's no Wi-fi there."
"Not that, the second spot! The only place with decent Wi-Fi," Kaia explained. "It's near the sari-sari store, by the old pier."
Mateo straightened, eyes gleaming. "Field trip! Let's rescue our princess from her tragic silence."
—
The Spot wasn't much—just a patched-up wooden shed beside the pier, with mismatched benches and a single router blinking stubbornly on a shelf. Yet the second Celine's phone connected, her screen exploded with notifications.
"Finally!" she breathed, scrolling furiously to download her favorite songs.
Elio leaned over her shoulder. "Careful, darling. Too much scrolling might give you wrinkles."
"Coming from someone who moisturizes like it's a religion?" Niko teased.
Elio gasped. "It's called skincare, peasant."
While Celine queued her playlist, the others barely touched their phones. Kai checked a game update, Mateo tried to photobomb Elio's selfies, and Kaia wandered to a nearby book stall, eyes lighting up at a weathered copy of Pride and Prejudice. Solana stayed by the railing, snapping photos of the sea with her film camera.
Celine glanced at them. "You don't... hang out here much?"
"Not really," Solana replied without looking away from her viewfinder. "It's fine for quick stuff. But the fun's not here."
"Yeah, there are also other people going here daily, mostly tourist," Niko added. "Why sit staring at screens when you've got all this?" He gestured toward the shoreline, where kids chased each other through the shallows.
Mateo nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. We've got bonfires, night swims, scavenger hunts—"
"And tree climbing," Kaia put in, flipping a page. "Don't forget the rooftop stargazing."
"And jam nights," Niko said. "Real music, not just playlists."
Solana lowered her camera and smiled faintly at Celine. "Kahelea's better offline."
Something about the way she said it made Celine pause. She looked down at her phone, suddenly less urgent about her downloads.
—
On their way back, the group veered off the dirt road toward a clearing. Niko led the charge, balancing an old cassette player under one arm.
"Where are we going?" Celine asked.
"You'll see," Mateo said mysteriously.
They emerged at a weathered treehouse overlooking the sea. Inside, colorful pillows and old guitars cluttered the floor. Niko set his player on a crate, slotting in a cassette with a satisfying click.
Warm guitar riffs filled the small space. Kaia curled up by the window with her book. Kai challenged Mateo to a thumb war while Elio critiqued their "form" with theatrical disgust. Solana settled on the floor, camera resting beside her, eyes drifting toward Celine as if inviting her to sit.
Celine lowered herself onto a pillow, the salty wind brushing her hair. For the first time, she wasn't thinking about notifications or messages waiting back home. She just listened—to the scratch of vinyl, to their laughter, to the quiet heartbeat of a town that somehow felt alive without needing a single signal.
Solana caught her gaze and smiled, small but steady, like a lighthouse cutting through fog.
Maybe, Celine thought, some silences weren't empty after all.
⸻
Mateo and Niko weren't done showing off. They cranked up another record — Come and Get Your Love by Redbone — and immediately launched into an over-the-top Star-Lord dance battle. Kaia nearly dropped her book from laughing, Kai filmed them for "evidence," and even Elio cracked a reluctant grin while pretending to judge their choreography.
As the song faded, Solana reached for the guitar leaning in the corner. She tuned it with slow precision, then settled cross-legged near the window where the sun caught the tips of her hair. Soft chords drifted out, gentle against the hiss of the sea.
Her voice slipped in — clear, low, unhurried.
"Is it alright to feel this way so early?"
On one line, Solana's eyes lifted and found Celine's across the room. The glance lasted only a heartbeat, but it sent a quick, traitorous warmth to Celine's cheeks. Solana looked away, fingers never faltering.
"But am I blind?
All the sweet nothing's, fallin' in love overnight."
The room stilled, caught in the hush of the melody. In one corner, Kaia's gaze flicked between Solana and Celine, a small knowing smile curving her lips.
"Didn't mean to get so close
And I know that I should probably go
But I got this feeling
Tell me, girl, I gotta know."
Solana raised her eyes again, this time holding Celine's gaze as if the words belonged only to her. Celine felt heat bloom along her face, no way to hide it.
"Touch you softly, I call you up late at night
Know that it isn't right, but you could be my one and only."
A quiet smile ghosted over Solana's mouth before she looked back at the frets, letting the last line drift like seafoam.
"You get me in the mood, know what I'm tryna do
Do you think that we can move closer, baby?
I want you, ooh-ooh, ooh, ay, yeah."
When the final note dissolved, she set the guitar aside with deliberate calm. "Alright," she said lightly, brushing her palms against her shorts. "Who's next?"
Before anyone could answer, Niko snatched up a ukulele, strumming a bouncy riff. Mateo joined in with a playful beat on an old guitar, their voices colliding in a goofy, off-key duet. Laughter broke the spell, echoing against the treehouse walls — yet under it all, Celine could still feel that quiet moment threaded through the song, like a secret stitched between her and Solana alone.
Laughter still clung to the air when a low roll of thunder shivered somewhere far across the water.
Celine paused, halfway through stacking a few records, and glanced toward the open window.
The sea below the treehouse had shifted — darker now, slate gray instead of bright blue. Clouds were gathering at the horizon, thick and heavy, swallowing the sun a little at a time.
"Looks like rain later," Niko said, leaning out the window. He didn't sound worried, more like someone reading a familiar sign.
"Probably just a passing shower," Mateo replied, though he kept peering at the sky.
Kaia marked her page and stood, smoothing her dress. "We should head back before it gets serious."
Solana rested the guitar against the wall and stretched, her gaze flicking between the clouds and Celine. "Storm season's starting early this year," she murmured.
Celine felt a prickle of unease under her skin — not fear exactly, just the quiet awareness of something shifting. The treehouse still smelled of wood and salt and music, but outside, the wind had begun to lift the edges of everything.
Solana sings "Softly" by Clairo (© 2019 Fader Label). All rights belong to the original artist.