The studio is calm that afternoon.
Laura sits at the piano.
Back straight — but not rigid.
Her new posture is subtle.
Less carved.
More lived-in.
Axel tunes quietly near the corner.
Sunny hums through harmony lines.
Zane scrolls through lyrics on his phone.
Theo steps out to take a call.
Laura places her hands on the keys.
They begin.
It's a piece they know well.
Structured.
Clean.
Predictable.
Her fingers move automatically.
Years of training.
Precision.
Timing.
Control.
Halfway through the second progression—
she pauses.
Just slightly.
Zane looks up.
He doesn't say anything.
Doesn't prompt.
Doesn't challenge.
Axel glances over.
Sunny notices the break in rhythm.
Laura inhales.
And plays the wrong note.
Clear.
Deliberate.
Unmistakable.
It clashes.
Not violently.
But enough.
The room stills.
Sunny blinks.
Zane doesn't move.
Axel doesn't react.
Laura keeps her hands on the keys.
She waits.
For the tightening.
For the internal collapse.
For the familiar spike of panic.
It doesn't come.
The note lingers in the air.
Imperfect.
Interesting.
She presses it again.
Intentionally.
Once more.
It sounds different when it's chosen.
The door opens.
Theo walks in.
Stops.
"What—"
He stares at the piano.
"That is not the progression."
Laura looks at him calmly.
"No."
Theo's eyes widen slightly.
"Are we restructuring?"
"We might be," Zane says smoothly.
Theo looks between them.
"Was that intentional?"
Laura nods.
"Yes."
The room waits.
She plays the correct note next.
Then the wrong one again.
This time softer.
Layered differently.
Axel adjusts his chord slightly underneath it.
Sunny experiments with harmony above it.
The dissonance becomes texture.
Not mistake.
Choice.
Laura feels it.
No spike.
No dread.
No collapse.
Just sound.
Theo exhales slowly.
"…Continue," he says, still slightly disturbed.
They do.
The piece shifts subtly.
Not broken.
Just altered.
When it ends, no one speaks for a moment.
Laura lifts her hands from the keys.
Her heart is steady.
Not racing.
Not spiraling.
Zane watches her carefully.
He doesn't smile.
He doesn't comment.
He just nods once.
She returns it.
Small.
Then—
barely—
she smiles.
It's not dramatic.
Not triumphant.
Just quiet recognition.
She did it.
Not because someone told her to.
Not because she was challenged.
Because she chose to.
Theo clears his throat.
"We will discuss this adjustment."
Laura looks at him evenly.
"Yes."
And for once—
there's no fear behind it.
Just authorship.