Zane sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop balanced on his knees, the bedroom door firmly closed behind him. His hair was still slightly tousled from sleep, and his hand hadn't left the back of his neck since the call connected. On the screen, Adrienne's face was composed as ever — her chic blazer, her calm tone — but he could tell she already had questions in her eyes.
Sunny sat quietly in the living room outside, curled up with a mug of tea. She didn't knock, didn't eavesdrop — just waited, like she trusted him to handle this.
Adrienne got to the point. "So. You requested this meeting. You've been hard to pin down lately, Zane."
He gave a small nod, clearing his throat. "Yeah. I know. I've been meaning to talk to you sooner. Just… needed to figure out what I wanted to say."
She didn't interrupt. Just waited. So he continued.
"When I first signed with the label — and yeah, I know that was only seven weeks ago — I was excited. It felt like a huge step forward. Big shows, professional writers, serious momentum. They offered me a rooftop showcase with sushi, and I was like, 'Okay, this is it. This is real.' I jumped on it."
He gave a weak laugh, then ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I was ready. And maybe I was — just not for... this."
That got a small laugh out of Adrienne, though her expression remained thoughtful.
"And in the beginning, I threw myself into it. I wanted to prove myself. And I think I did — I know I did. I showed up early, stayed late, took every meeting seriously." He hesitated for a breath. "But lately… it's been wearing on me. The schedules, the structure, the... machine of it all."
Adrienne's gaze didn't waver. "You're saying you've grown disillusioned?"
Zane rubbed his hands together. "I'm saying… what started as a dream project doesn't really feel like mine anymore. And I don't blame anyone for that — it's the nature of the industry, right? But I realized I was happiest when I was doing things my way. Writing my own music. Putting out things that sounded like me, not what tested well with a target audience."
Adrienne leaned back slightly in her chair. "I won't lie — I've noticed the shift. Your enthusiasm... dipped. Your manager mentioned it, actually." Her voice softened a bit. "Is there something we can do to reignite that spark? New collaborators, different direction?"
Zane hesitated. "Honestly? I don't think this label is the right fit anymore. I'm not looking to jump into another machine. I want something smaller. Personal. Something that gives me room to breathe."
There was a pause. A long one.
Then Adrienne sighed — not frustrated, not angry, just quietly contemplative.
"You know we take contracts seriously, Zane. You knew what you were signing up for."
"I did," he said quickly. "I did. And I'm not asking to burn any bridges. I just… I'd appreciate if you could look into options. Maybe there's a clean way out. I don't want to make waves. I just don't want to lose myself in this."
Adrienne gave a slow nod. "We don't want miserable artists on our roster either. That's not good for anyone. I'll see what I can do. No promises, but I'll talk to legal."
"Thank you." Zane's voice came out smaller than he meant it to.
"Don't thank me yet," Adrienne said. "This won't be simple. But... I respect the honesty."
When the call ended, Zane let out a long, uneven breath — one he hadn't realized he'd been holding the entire time. He closed the laptop and just… sat there for a moment, quiet.
Then he opened the door. And there was Sunny, waiting. She looked up from her tea and gave him a soft smile.
He smiled back.
---
"So…?" Sunny asked softly, the moment she saw him emerge from the bedroom.
Zane didn't answer right away — just walked over and sat beside her on the couch, running a hand down his face. His expression wasn't defeated, but it wasn't exactly triumphant either.
"She's considering it," he finally said. "She said she'd see what she can do."
Sunny exhaled, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned slightly closer. "See? I knew she'd hear you out."
He looked at her, his tired eyes softening. "Yeah… I just didn't know how much I needed to actually say it out loud until now."
She gave him a gentle smile, brushing her fingers over his knuckles. "I'm proud of you. That's not easy to do."
He let out a low chuckle and leaned back, bumping his shoulder into hers playfully. "Thanks for not giving up on me when I clearly had no idea what I was doing."
"I always know what you're doing," she teased. "I just wait until you figure it out yourself."
That finally earned a real laugh from him — tired but genuine — and for a moment, the heaviness between them lifted.
---
Then, as the moment settled, Sunny's expression shifted — just slightly. The playfulness faded from her features, replaced by something gentler, more serious. She reached for his hands, her fingers curling around his palms, grounding him.
"Zane…" she began, her voice quiet but unwavering. "You're not just doing this for me, right?"
Zane blinked, brows knitting slightly.
"I mean," she continued, locking eyes with him, "this is… what you truly want?" Her thumbs brushed over his knuckles slowly. "You're not just trying to make me happy?"
He stared at her for a moment, then gently pulled one of her hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against her fingers.
"I'm doing this… because of you," he admitted. "But not just for you."
Sunny tilted her head, still unsure.
He held her gaze now, unwavering. "You reminded me of what matters. Of what actually makes me feel alive. When I signed that contract, I thought I wanted everything that came with it — the structure, the push, the promise of something big. But it stopped being my dream the moment it stopped sounding like my voice."
He exhaled through his nose. "I lost sight of that… until you."
Sunny's eyes welled slightly, but she blinked it away with a shaky smile. "Okay," she said softly, squeezing his hands. "Then… let's chase your dream. Together."
And Zane smiled at that — not just because she was there, but because for the first time in weeks, he finally felt like he was too.
---
The summer air was thick with the scent of sweet syrup and toasted waffle cones as Zane and Sunny strolled hand-in-hand through the city plaza, each holding a cup of ice cream. Zane had gone for classic vanilla with caramel drizzle — safe, dependable — while Sunny was proudly licking a neon blue scoop of bubblegum swirl like it was a badge of honor.
"Don't judge me," she said through a grin as Zane raised an amused brow at the color staining her lips.
"I'd never," he replied, smirking. "Although it looks like your tongue lost a fight with a unicorn."
She elbowed him lightly, laughing, and they continued along the path toward the nearby outdoor ice cream bar — one of those quaint open-air patios with colorful stools and string lights overhead. It was usually buzzing with chatter and music, but today, Zane slowed as he spotted a familiar figure sitting alone near the edge of the seating area.
"Hey... isn't that Amelia?" he asked, squinting slightly.
Sunny's eyes followed his gaze — and sure enough, there she was. Amelia sat with her chin resting in her hand, a mostly-melted scoop of pistachio untouched in front of her. Her usually styled hair was loosely tied back, and she wasn't wearing her signature dramatic sunglasses. Just a hoodie, shorts, and a far-off look in her eyes.
Sunny's steps quickened. "Amelia?"
Amelia blinked out of her haze, her expression flickering with surprise. "Oh—hey. Didn't see you guys."
"You okay?" Sunny asked gently, pulling out a nearby chair. Zane stayed standing, letting Sunny take the lead.
Amelia hesitated. For a second, it looked like she was going to brush it off with a joke or a casual wave, but instead, her shoulders slumped slightly.
"It's Nico," she said, her voice quieter than usual. "He's leaving."
Sunny blinked. "Leaving…? What do you mean?"
"His IT project ended. The contract was only two months. He's going back to the States next week."
Zane sat down beside Sunny, eyes softening. "Damn. I didn't realize it was that soon."
Amelia gave a hollow laugh. "Yeah. Me neither, apparently. He told me this morning over coffee like it was just a random fact. 'Oh by the way, I booked my flight.'" She mimicked his voice with a dry smile, then stirred her melting ice cream with the back of her spoon. "I mean, I knew it wasn't permanent, but... I thought we had more time."
Sunny leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. "Did you tell him how you feel?"
Amelia shrugged. "What's the point? It's not like I can follow him to Chicago. I have school, my design portfolio… my life is here."
There was a pause.
Zane broke it gently. "He'll still be your brother, Ames. And you'll still matter to him, no matter the distance."
"I know," she mumbled, eyes downcast. "It's just… when things finally felt normal again, you know? I always knew he'd leave eventually… but I was starting to get used to having him around."
Sunny reached across the table, placing a hand gently over hers. "You still have us."
Amelia looked up — and for a moment, something fragile flickered in her eyes. The tiredness, the quiet ache, the way she hadn't let herself feel it until now. She gave a small nod. Then her lip quirked slightly.
"…I'll still be hanging out with you losers every weekend though."
Zane smirked. "Good. Who else is gonna roast me for my movie takes and terrible snack choices?"
They laughed, the mood lightening just enough. Sunny raised her cup.
"To ice cream and staying connected."
Zane clinked his spoon against hers. "And bubblegum unicorn tongues."
Amelia finally smiled for real. "God, I hate you both."
But she didn't pull her hand away from Sunny's.
That's when Sunny asked softly, "When is he leaving?"
Amelia stared down at her half-melted scoop of pistachio. "…Tomorrow morning."
Sunny's expression shifted — just barely, but enough. She looked away for a second. That timing… it was too familiar. Zane had left in the morning. Amber too. Always mornings. Always after quiet goodbyes.
She drew a slow breath and looked back up. "Think he'd mind spending his last day with us?"
Amelia tilted her head. "He's out with some friends today. I'm not sure."
But Sunny leaned in, insistent. "Can you call him?"
There was a pause. Amelia hesitated, thumb hovering over her screen. Then, with a small sigh, she tapped his contact and brought the phone to her ear. It only rang twice before Nico picked up.
She stepped away for a bit, speaking quietly, nodding, listening. When she returned to the table and put her phone down, her voice was casual — but there was something unreadable in her eyes. "He said he wouldn't mind. He'll come by later."
Sunny brightened. "That's great."
Zane, meanwhile, kept his eyes on Amelia. He wasn't saying much, but the slight tilt of his head and the subtle glance they exchanged said enough. There was something unspoken between them — not rivalry, not exactly — but a history. At the party, they'd had that conversation. Nico had always been a quiet shadow in the background of Zane's mind — the long-game competitor, the guy who understood Sunny's past better than he ever could.
But now he was leaving. And Zane didn't feel threatened. Not anymore.
He slid his arm around Sunny's shoulder, drawing her close with a quiet pride, and shot Amelia a knowing smirk. "Sounds like a plan."
Amelia rolled her eyes. "Don't get smug."
Sunny just smiled between them, blissfully unaware of the undercurrent. All she saw was her two closest people agreeing to spend the evening together — one last night before another goodbye.
---
They didn't plan much — just agreed on something casual. Bowling. Easy, nostalgic. The kind of thing you do when you don't want to think too hard about the fact that someone's leaving in the morning.
It ended up being the four of them: Zane and Sunny on one team, Amelia and Nico on the other.
At first, it was innocent. Zane even joked that he hadn't bowled in years and would probably throw it into the snack bar. Nico just laughed and said, "Good. Gives us a head start." But when that first round started and Nico hit a clean spare, Zane's grin tightened a little.
Challenge accepted.
He stepped up to the lane and rolled with laser focus, knocking down nine. Not bad. Sunny clapped beside him, completely unaware of the silent battle forming behind the flashing neon and the cheesy 80s playlist.
Amelia raised a brow, sensing it almost immediately. "Is it just me," she muttered under her breath, pulling out her phone, "or are they treating this like a death match?"
She filmed them discreetly — Zane narrowing his eyes in concentration before a throw, Nico cracking his knuckles and straightening his shoulders with theatrical flair. Both of them were smiling, but there was an edge to it. A competitive undercurrent neither would ever admit out loud. Not with Sunny sitting there on the padded bench, cheerfully sipping her soda, oblivious to the low-key male posturing playing out just feet away.
To her, it was just fun.
But to Zane?
It was personal.
It wasn't about bowling — not really. It was about proving something. To Nico, to Amelia, to himself. That he wasn't just back. He was staying. That he wasn't the same guy who ran off to Osaka. That he belonged beside Sunny — and this time, no quiet, waiting figure from the wings would outlast him.
When Zane got his first strike, he shot Nico a subtle look.
Nico just chuckled, shrugged, and rolled a strike right after.
Amelia whistled and turned the camera on again. "We are not responsible if this turns into a turf war," she deadpanned to the phone, before aiming it back at the scoreboard.
Sunny turned toward her with a grin. "You recording their silly little rivalry?"
Amelia smiled faintly. "Oh no, Sunbeam. I'm documenting history."
And so it went — laughs, competitive tension, and four people clinging to one more evening before things shifted again.
---
The night had cooled by the time the four of them stepped out into the open air. Crickets hummed somewhere in the bushes, and the scent of oil and wax still clung faintly to their clothes after two hours of bowling.
"Thanks for tonight," Sunny said, her voice light but warm. "I'm really glad we got to do this."
"Same here," Amelia replied, looping an arm through her brother's as they stood near the curb. "Felt like old times. Almost."
Zane offered a casual wave. "Safe trip tomorrow, man."
Nico nodded. "Thanks. You two take care."
Then Amelia and Nico turned to walk the other way.
But Nico paused. Just for a moment.
He looked back.
His gaze found Sunny — bright-eyed and radiant in the city glow, her laughter still echoing from a final joke Zane had whispered in her ear.
It wasn't a long glance, but it lingered.
And both Zane and Amelia noticed.
Zane's reaction was immediate. He slid his arm around Sunny's waist, tugging her gently but deliberately closer, letting his hand rest at her hip. He didn't say anything. Just made sure Nico saw it.
Nico did. His expression didn't change — not exactly — but Amelia could see the flicker of something behind his eyes. Something small and resigned.
"Come on," she said softly, nudging him forward.
He nodded, and they disappeared down the path.
---
The night was calm, the city buzzing in the distance while their footsteps echoed down the quieter side streets. Streetlights flickered above them, casting long shadows as Amelia and Nico walked side by side in silence, neither in a hurry to get home just yet.
Amelia shoved her hands into the pocket of her hoodie, her eyes fixed on the sidewalk. Nico walked beside her, his gaze distant.
"You packed already?" she asked, not really because she didn't know — she'd seen it earlier — but just to break the silence.
"Mostly," he replied, rolling his shoulders. "Still need to decide what jacket to wear on the flight."
She gave a dry laugh. "That's the biggest dilemma, huh?"
"Life or death," he smirked.
They rounded a corner. Another stretch of road opened before them. Empty. Quiet. The kind of space that demanded honesty.
Amelia hesitated. Then, with her gaze still fixed forward, she said it:
"You had a crush on her, didn't you."
It wasn't sharp. Just… flat. Matter-of-fact. Almost casual, like asking if he liked his coffee black.
Nico slowed a step, eyes flicking toward her. She didn't turn.
He could've joked — she thought he would — but instead, he sighed, deep and unguarded.
"Yeah."
Amelia stopped.
She turned toward him, searching his face. "Really?"
He met her eyes, gave a tired half-smile. "No point in denying it, right? I mean… it's Sunny."
Amelia rolled her eyes. "God. You're so predictable."
"Come on, Ames. You've seen her. She's warm, she's creative, she always smells like sun flowers—"
"—and she's dating a pop star," she finished for him, eyebrow raised.
He chuckled softly. "That too."
They started walking again, the moment settled between them like a pebble in a shoe — small, but impossible to ignore.
"I didn't mean for it to happen," Nico said quietly. "I just… I liked being around her. And when Zane left... it felt like there was this window. Like maybe, if I was patient, things might change."
Amelia didn't respond at first.
But then she sighed, not in anger — more like something resigned. "You always do this. You always play the long game."
"Yeah, well. Didn't work this time."
"No. It didn't." Her voice wasn't cruel. Just honest.
They reached the streetlight near their building. The soft glow turned her profile golden.
"Are you gonna be okay?" she asked finally, turning to him.
He looked at her for a moment, the silence stretching between them. Then he nodded. "Yeah. I will be."
And despite everything — the crush, the loss, the missed timing — Amelia believed him.
She nudged his shoulder gently. "Still pathetic though."
Nico smiled faintly. "Comes with the territory."
They crossed the street in silence, the soft hum of city life behind them. They didn't talk about Sunny again. They didn't need to. The air between them was quiet, but not empty. It held the kind of understanding only siblings could share.
And tomorrow, life would move on.
But for now, it was enough to just walk.