The morning after the party, after the last crumbs of laughter and tension had settled, Zane had made up his mind.
Something in Sunny's words had stuck with him — "You're always chasing the next big thing…" — and it echoed louder the longer he sat with it.
He didn't want her to feel like that. Not ever. And if his current trajectory — this label, this contract — was taking him away from the people he cared about, then maybe it wasn't worth it.
He didn't say anything to her that morning. He just kissed the top of her head, said he had some things to take care of, and opened his laptop.
Then he started researching.
"Can you terminate a record label contract?""Loopholes in entertainment agreements.""How to walk away without getting sued."
He pulled up the PDF of his own contract and scrolled through the endless clauses, fine print, and glossy legal traps. Some of the language made his stomach turn — ownership of his songs, limitations on outside collaborations, appearance requirements. He read every word. Twice. Then a third time, slower.
He didn't know if it was possible. But if there was a way out, he was going to find it.
---
Sunny, meanwhile, watched him from across the room that morning, unsure of what to say.
He had been… distant. Focused. Not cold, exactly, but preoccupied. And she could tell it wasn't about her. He wasn't pulling away from her — just drifting somewhere else. Somewhere in his head that she didn't have the key to.
At first, she told herself it was just post-party exhaustion. That things would settle. That Zane just needed time.
But two days had passed.
And that quiet ache in her chest — the one that bloomed when she tried to talk and got half-hearted hums in response — was growing louder.
This wasn't what she'd imagined when he said he'd visit again.
She'd imagined late-night laughter, spontaneous songwriting, hands brushing over coffee mugs in the morning. Not this slow, creeping uncertainty.
She slipped on her coat without a word and stepped outside, the air brisk enough to bite through her brave face.
She pulled out her phone, thumb hovering for a moment before she tapped Axel's name.
It rang twice.
"Hey," he answered casually, voice calm, familiar.
"Hey," she replied, trying to sound light. "Just wanted to check in. How are you? How's Laura doing? I… I remember you guys headed home early the other night."
There was a pause. Not long, but enough.
Axel's mind flickered briefly to the message from Laura's mother, still lurking in her phone. He glanced toward the bedroom where she was resting. She hadn't brought it up again, and neither had he.
"She's okay," he said finally, his voice measured. "We just needed some quiet after everything. She's taking it easy."
Sunny gave a small hum in response.
"That's good. Really. I'm glad."
Another pause.
Then, quieter: "Do you think… I could come over for a bit? I don't want to intrude, I just… I don't know. I'd like to see you both. Maybe talk."
Axel recognized the shift in her voice instantly — the way she tried to sound casual, but couldn't quite mask the heaviness underneath.
"Of course," he said without hesitation. "Come by whenever. We'll be here."
"Really?"
"Sunny," he said gently. "It's fine. You're always welcome."
She let out a small breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"Okay. I'll be there soon."
And with that, she tucked her phone away and started walking — toward the people who, maybe, could help her untangle the space Zane had left behind.
---
Sunny arrived not long after the call.
She stood in front of the door for a moment before knocking — taking in the familiar hallway, the quiet hum of the building. She hadn't been here since that one time — the day she, Zane, and Laura went looking for Axel. But even then, they'd never actually gone inside. He hadn't been home, and they'd turned back before crossing the threshold.
Now, standing here again, it felt different. Like crossing some invisible line between casual and something closer to personal.
Axel's place.
That's what they'd always called it. But now… she supposed it wasn't just his anymore.
Laura hadn't returned to her own apartment in weeks. At some point, without announcing it or making a big deal, she had simply stayed. Clothes folded neatly in Axel's drawers. Tea mugs side by side in the kitchen. Her soft slippers by the door. This was her home now.
Sunny found that… heartwarming. Beautiful, even. Not just that Laura had found comfort here, but that she trusted Axel enough to let herself belong. There was something so quietly powerful about it — something Sunny admired deeply.
She supposed she might have done the same with Zane… would have, even. If things had gone differently. If he hadn't grown so distant lately. If the space between them hadn't widened without warning.
Her hand hovered near the door.
This visit wasn't about confrontation. It wasn't even really about Zane. It was about her. About feeling safe enough to ask for warmth when she didn't know where else to turn.
She didn't like to admit it — wouldn't even dare say it aloud — but…
Axel and Laura were like parents to her.
Not in the literal sense. But in the quiet, sacred way you cling to the people who see you. Who hold space for you when you feel like a shrinking version of yourself.
It wasn't something they ever talked about. There was no dramatic confession, no tearful gratitude. Just a silent, unshakable bond — one that had grown over time, gently stitched into shared glances, casual hangouts, and comfort offered without question.
They'd never admit it. None of them would. But it was there.
And right now… Sunny needed that.
She knocked softly, then waited, clutching the strap of her bag like it might anchor her.
A moment later, the door opened — and Axel's familiar face greeted her with a calm smile that told her she was exactly where she needed to be.
---
Axel stepped aside and welcomed her in with a quiet smile, motioning her inside like he'd been expecting her all along.
Sunny stepped over the threshold and immediately took in the space.
It felt different now. Warmer. Softer. Like a place where people lived, not just passed time.
When Axel had lived alone, the apartment had been clean, organized, and… gray. Not sad exactly, just stiff — minimal furniture, monochrome tones, a vibe that said "functional" more than "home."
But now… there were hints of Laura everywhere.
A soft throw blanket draped over the couch. A tea kettle resting on the counter. A faint floral scent in the air that hadn't been there before. There was even a tiny potted plant in the corner — barely hanging on, but surviving, and clearly loved.
And there, on the couch, sat Laura — legs curled up, a book resting closed at her side, gently petting the street cat they'd all grown familiar with.
The cat wasn't one for strangers. It had always been a little aloof — streetwise, suspicious, like it didn't quite trust the world. But now it sat contentedly beside Laura, tail twitching occasionally, half-lidded eyes watching the room without urgency.
Sunny stepped forward slowly, crouching in front of the cat.
"Can I?" she asked softly, eyes flicking up to meet Laura's.
Laura hesitated — not out of doubt, but out of habit. Then she gave a small nod. "If she lets you."
Sunny extended a careful hand, letting the cat sniff her fingers first before gently stroking between its ears. The cat didn't recoil. It leaned slightly into her touch, which surprised Sunny more than she let on.
"She's getting used to people," Laura said quietly. "Little by little."
Sunny smiled faintly at that, still petting. "She's lucky. She found the right ones to trust."
Laura looked at her for a moment, her expression unreadable at first. Then she softened.
"Hey," she said gently. "I'm glad you came."
Sunny looked up from the cat and met her eyes. "Me too."
---
Sunny settled onto the couch beside Laura, careful not to crowd her. The cat had relocated to the armrest, curling up like a coiled ribbon, content with the background hum of quiet conversation.
Axel had disappeared into the kitchen — the soft clinking of mugs and kettle sounds punctuated the silence like a warm rhythm in the background.
Sunny turned to Laura, her voice gentle. "How are you feeling?"
Laura didn't respond right away.
She stared ahead, letting the question settle in the air between them. Sunny didn't press — she knew better. Laura always took her time with these kinds of things, weighing the words before choosing them.
Then, finally, she answered with a quiet honesty: "I'm getting better."
It wasn't a grand declaration. There was no smile to sell it, no dramatic pause to build suspense — just the simple truth, spoken without performance.
Sunny smiled in relief. That meant more than anything else could've. Her instinct was to reach out — to hug her, to close the space — but she didn't. She knew Laura wasn't the most physically affectionate person, and she didn't want to invalidate that boundary, especially not now.
So instead, she nodded. "Good. I'm really glad."
There was a pause. Then Laura turned slightly toward her.
"What about you?"
Sunny blinked. She hadn't expected the question so soon. But of course Laura would ask. Of course she'd see right through the soft smile and casual voice.
She didn't get the chance to respond.
Axel reappeared from the kitchen, holding a small tray with three tea cups and a pot still steaming. He placed it on the coffee table carefully, then handed Sunny her cup.
She looked down at it and paused — surprised.
It was the same one she used to drink from every time she visited. A slightly chipped mug with faded cartoon stars on the rim. She hadn't even realized she'd grown attached to it… but clearly, Axel had.
"You remembered?" she asked, a little warmth blooming behind her voice.
Axel gave a small shrug. "Of course I did."
She smiled, touched.
She brought the mug to her lips and took a small sip — then blinked.
It wasn't the usual flavor.
"This is… new?" she asked, curiosity lighting in her voice.
Axel nodded, settling into the armchair with his own cup. "Yeah. It's a newer brand. They're still experimenting. Trying out different blends, different notes."
Sunny paused, letting the words sink in.
Experimenting.
And just like that, it clicked.
Her gaze flicked to Laura, who was quietly blowing on her tea, taking small, cautious sips.
Sunny's smile faded — not completely, but just enough to show the guilt slowly crawling in.
All this time… she'd been dragging Laura into cafés and restaurants, encouraging her to try new things, share bites, explore flavors. Not forcefully — never forcefully — but still.
She'd never realized how hard that must have been for Laura. How foreign or overwhelming it might have felt. How much of it Laura may have tolerated for her sake.
Because she hadn't known. No one had told her about Laura's condition — her sensory processing issues, the taste-related flatness, the textures that could overwhelm or numb or confuse.
And now… she could see it.
She could feel it in the way Laura held her tea so carefully, sipping it like it might slip away from her if she wasn't deliberate. Like she was learning how to connect to something the rest of them experienced without thinking.
Sunny looked down at her cup again.
She hadn't meant to make things harder. She just hadn't known.
And still… the guilt lingered.
"I didn't know," she murmured, mostly to herself.
Laura glanced over, curious. "Know what?"
Sunny shook her head quickly, giving her a soft smile. "Nothing. Just… thanks for letting me visit."
There would be time to talk about it. But for now, she chose to just be here — with them. With the people who loved her enough to notice when she didn't say anything at all.
---
"So," Axel began after a moment of silence, his voice even but not without warmth. "What brings you here, Sunny?"
He already had a guess — Zane — but he didn't say it. He wouldn't draw conclusions. He wanted to give her space to say it herself, if she was ready.
Sunny shifted slightly on the couch, her hands warming around the tea mug. She looked down for a moment, then up again, her expression soft but uncertain.
"It's Zane," she admitted. "He's just been… distant. I don't know. Not cold, just… somewhere else. Like his head's caught up in something, and I'm not really part of it."
Axel nodded slowly, saying nothing.
"He keeps disappearing into his work, I think," she added. "He hasn't said much, but it feels… heavy. Whatever it is."
Across from her, Laura and Axel exchanged a quiet glance — a flicker of shared understanding without words. Then Laura sat up slightly, her posture subtly shifting. Her fingers curled around her mug, but her eyes sharpened just a bit, her tone shifting.
"Sunny," she said, voice calm, focused — just bordering on business-like. She didn't mean to slip into that tone. It was just how her brain worked when the pieces started falling into place. Like a switch had flipped — emotion clearing way for clarity.
Sunny looked at her.
"I know how much it meant for Zane to be back," Laura continued. "To be here. With you. Even when I talked to his manager last week — about the agency's upcoming release cycle — she mentioned he's been off. Quiet. Not behind, but… detached. Like his heart's somewhere else entirely."
Sunny's brows drew together slightly.
Laura leaned forward now, gently but deliberately laying down her thoughts like tiles on a table. "So let's piece it together. This change — him pulling back — it started after the party, right?"
Sunny nodded. "Yeah… not immediately, but… yeah. That's when it shifted."
Axel, still leaning back in the chair, watched the conversation unfold like a quiet observer. He'd seen Laura like this before — when emotion gave way to insight. It was always fascinating to watch the gears turn behind her calm exterior.
Laura continued, her tone neutral but precise. "I know how that party got out of hand. People started inviting themselves — word spread faster than the guest list could keep up. What was supposed to be something intimate… turned into a full-blown industry showcase."
Sunny blinked, surprised. "You heard about that?"
Laura gave a small nod. "I was there, remember?" Her tone was calm, but edged with something more personal now. "I saw how fast it escalated. How the room shifted. One moment it felt like a celebration, the next it was a spotlight — industry people circling, cameras flashing, names being dropped like currency."
She paused, eyes distant for a moment. "It stopped feeling like a party pretty early on."
Sunny looked down at her hands, quiet.
Laura continued, her voice steady. "I watched Zane that night. Even when he was smiling, he was tense. Like he was trying to hold the whole thing together with duct tape and charm. He wasn't enjoying it. Not for a second."
Sunny sighed and set her mug down. "Zane was panicking. He tried to keep it together, but I could tell. He hated every second of it."
Laura softened, just slightly, but didn't stop.
"I think he's trying to fix it," she said. "Not just the party, but… everything. I think he's looking for a way out. Out of the label. The contract. All of it."
Sunny stared at her.
Laura met her gaze evenly. "That's why he's distant. Not because he's drifting away from you… but because he's fighting for something. Quietly. Without telling you, because he's probably afraid you'll worry. Or stop him."
Sunny didn't say anything at first. The words settled over her like soft rain.
She hadn't seen it like that. Not fully.
She'd assumed he was pulling away — that she was becoming another thing on his to-do list. But if Laura was right… he was trying to claw his way back.
Her chest tightened, not with guilt, but with something close to awe.
And maybe… hope.
---
When Laura's train of thought finally reached its destination, when all the logic and observations had been laid out cleanly and carefully, something shifted.
She took a slow breath, like someone surfacing after diving deep underwater, and leaned back against the couch cushions. It was subtle, but noticeable — like watching a light switch click off. The sharp edge in her eyes softened. The businesslike composure gave way to something more human. More vulnerable.
Then, she did something unexpected.
At first, her hand twitched slightly against her lap, like she was second-guessing herself. Then slowly — hesitantly — she reached out and placed her hand gently over Sunny's.
No words. No explanation.
Just quiet, grounding contact.
Sunny blinked in surprise, her breath catching for a beat. Laura wasn't someone who reached out physically, not often — not unless it truly mattered. The weight of that small gesture landed in her chest like a stone in still water, rippling outward.
Sunny almost blushed at the gentleness of it.
She was still processing it when Axel stood up, walking over from his chair. He stopped just beside her and placed a steady hand on her shoulder — warm, solid, there.
"Zane loves you, Sunbeam," he said, his voice low and full of quiet certainty. "He wouldn't have come back if it wasn't for you. And now he's trying — trying so hard — to make things right. So that you don't have to say goodbye again in eight days."
Sunny's lip trembled. She looked down, clutching Laura's hand like a lifeline.
Laura added softly, "I know it doesn't feel like it right now. I know it feels like distance, like silence. But sometimes… that's just how people fight for what they can't bear to lose."
Axel nodded, squeezing her shoulder gently. "Trust us."
And that's when Sunny broke.
The tears came slowly at first — blinking them back, biting her lip, trying to keep it in. But then they spilled, quiet and trembling, rolling down her cheeks as her shoulders shook.
She didn't speak. Didn't need to.
And then — without thinking — she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around both of them. Laura stiffened at first, caught off guard by the sudden embrace, but she didn't pull away. Axel moved easily, folding into the hug and pressing his chin gently atop Sunny's head.
No one said anything.
But in that moment, it was clear:
She wasn't alone.
Not now. Not ever.