The lounge was quiet when Shade arrived.
It wasn't peaceful.It was pressure.
And she didn't arrive alone.
Blaze had showed up downstairs in the lobby — on time, unbothered, as if she'd been part of Echora for months instead of days. Shade tried to act like it didn't matter.
It did.
Shade headed for the stairs automatically.
But when Blaze stepped into the elevator, Shade stopped.
She followed her, pretending it was completely normal. Like she did this every day. Like she wasn't only doing it because Blaze was standing there.
The doors shut.
Blaze leaned back, relaxed.
Shade stared straight ahead, arms folded.
"You're tense," Blaze said casually.
Shade didn't look at her. "I'm not."
Blaze hummed. "You say that a lot."
Shade's jaw tightened.
The elevator dinged.
Shade walked out too quickly.
In the lounge, she sat across from Blaze and grabbed her phone like it was a weapon. She scrolled without seeing anything, trying to kill time until Nova and Echo arrived.
Blaze watched her.
Then:
"Are you always this allergic to small talk," Blaze asked, "or am I special?"
Shade's thumb stopped.
Her voice stayed flat. "You're not special."
Blaze's smile widened slightly.
"Ouch."
Shade's stomach did that stupid flip again.
She hated that Blaze could say one word and make her body react like a traitor.
Before Shade could respond, the lounge door opened.
Echo entered first.
And for once… Echo didn't look like she was about to cause a crime.
She looked almost toned down—still bright-eyed, but quieter. Like she'd been awake too long.
Then Nova appeared behind her.
Nova didn't waste time greeting the room. She only nodded once at Blaze.
That was her welcome.
Shade noticed something immediately.
Nova's shoulders were tighter than usual.Her eyes had that tired sharpness that came from skipping breaks.
Even Echo kept her mouth shut—which was genuinely concerning.
Nova didn't sit. She just turned toward the rehearsal room.
"Come on," Nova said.
Echo followed her without hesitation, not making it obvious she was following… even though she absolutely was.
Shade hesitated, then stood.
Blaze fell into step beside her.
"It's like they're being haunted," Blaze murmured.
Shade shot her a look. "Don't start."
Blaze raised her hands slightly, innocent. "I'm observing."
Shade didn't like how accurate Blaze was, even when she wasn't trying.
The rehearsal room was built for focus: microphones, screens, clean acoustics, and a speaker system that could shake the building if Nova wanted it to.
She did.
Nova played the instrumental.
A pulse of sound filled the room — familiar, intense.
Paranoia.
Nova's voice cut through immediately. Controlled and commanding. Echo harmonized with ease, like muscle memory. Shade joined without thinking.
Then Nova stopped it mid-way and looked at Blaze.
"Your turn," Nova said.
No sugar. No encouragement.
Just expectation.
Blaze didn't hesitate.
She stepped forward like she'd stepped into arenas her whole life.
Then she sang.
Her voice hit the room like heat.
Low. Strong. Effortless.
Shade's hands went cold.
Of course she sounds like that.Of course she does.
Nova watched the whole time with a neutral face — but Shade saw it: a tiny shift in approval. A silent good.
When Blaze finished, the room stayed quiet for half a second.
Nova nodded once. "Good."
That was basically a love confession in Nova language.
"Now harmonies," Nova said.
She pointed at a part of the chorus.
"Echo, Shade — take top. Blaze, take lower."
Blaze's mouth twitched. "Yes, boss."
Nova didn't react.
They tried it.
Once.
Twice.
By the third time, it started to lock together — voices stacking, tension smoothing into something powerful.
Shade hated how much she liked it.
She could feel Blaze's tone underneath hers like a hand at her waist.
Too close.
Not physically.
Something worse.
Nova stopped the track again.
She looked at the three of them like she was calculating a future.
Then she nodded.
Satisfied.
That was all Nova had wanted. Proof. Harmony. Potential.
"Welcome," Nova said to Blaze, almost as an afterthought.
Blaze blinked once, as if surprised she'd gotten even that.
"Thanks," Blaze replied.
Nova was already halfway to the door.
Echo followed immediately, like her body moved before her brain even had to decide.
Shade caught Echo's eye for a second.
Echo looked… distracted.
Like she wanted to say something but couldn't.
Nova didn't look back.
They were gone.
The room fell quiet again.
Shade exhaled softly, like she'd been holding her breath the entire rehearsal without noticing.
Blaze turned to her.
"Okay," Blaze said. "So."
Shade didn't like that tone. It sounded like Blaze was about to poke something with a stick.
"So what."
Blaze nodded toward the door Nova had left through.
"She's busy," Blaze said. "And Echo's following her around like a shadow."
Shade stiffened. "Don't psychoanalyze them."
"I'm not." Blaze's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm just not blind."
Shade picked up her phone again like it was suddenly urgent.
Blaze watched her.
Then, casually:
"Are we supposed to celebrate?" Blaze asked.
Shade's thumb froze.
"Celebrate what."
"My arrival," Blaze said like it was obvious. "I just joined your almost-band."
Shade's voice came out dry. "Nova doesn't celebrate."
Blaze smiled. "Shocking."
Shade's stomach fluttered again, irritated.
Blaze leaned back against the desk, calm.
"So," Blaze said. "Neon Static celebrated when we became official."
Shade glanced at her. "How."
Blaze shrugged. "Food. Drinks. Something normal."
Shade's expression didn't change. "And they're okay with you joining Echora?"
Blaze's eyes gleamed. "Who says I can't do both?"
Shade paused.
That was… fair.
It also reminded Shade of herself.
Acting. Music. Two paths. One life.
Shade gave a small nod. "Fair."
Blaze's smile softened—just barely.
Then Blaze took a step closer, as if testing whether Shade would flinch.
Shade didn't.
Her body did.
Blaze's voice lowered a fraction.
"Nova's too busy to celebrate," Blaze said. "Echo's clearly busy too."
Shade swallowed.
Blaze tilted her head.
"How about you?" Blaze asked. "Are you busy?"
Shade's brain stopped working.
Not externally.
Internally.
She stared at Blaze for a second too long.
Blaze waited, patient as a predator.
Shade forced her voice steady.
"I'm not busy," she said.
Blaze smiled like she'd won something.
"Good," Blaze said. "Then come celebrate with me."
Shade didn't ask if it was a date.
She didn't want to know.
She nodded once, like it didn't matter.
"Fine," Shade said.
Blaze's grin widened.
"Cute," Blaze murmured.
Shade's eyes narrowed. "Don't start."
Blaze laughed softly, then turned toward the door.
"On Sunday," Blaze said, like it was already settled.
Shade watched her leave.
Her heart was beating wrong.
And Shade didn't know if she was happy Blaze had joined Echora…
Or terrified her heart wouldn't survive it.