Broken Chords

The studio felt different the next day.

Not better.

Not fixed.

But… lighter.

There was no dramatic declaration. No official group talk. Just the unspoken understanding that something had shifted.

Adrian was the first to break the silence.

"You know," he said, strumming a chord on Mia's ukulele. "I think the real reason we're all so messed up is because none of us drink enough water."

Mia rolled her eyes, grinning. "You drank vodka out of a measuring cup last weekend."

"Hydration is hydration," he replied solemnly.

Mia laughed, and Sienna actually cracked a smile—real, soft, hidden behind her coffee cup.

Elliot entered quietly, backpack slung over one shoulder, guitar case in hand. He gave a nod to the room. No dramatic entrance. No dramatic apology.

And no one asked for one.

Sienna didn't say much that morning.

She watched Elliot from across the room.

Not with sharpness. Not with longing.

Just curiosity.Like she was learning a new version of someone she thought she had figured out.

When he caught her eye, she smiled—small.She didn't wink.She didn't tease.

She just smiled.

And then turned away.

Mia noticed, of course.

She always did.

---

She sat beside Sienna later, legs dangling off the edge of the stage. The rehearsal had ended. The others were packing up. Lights were dimming.

"I saw the way you looked at him," Mia said gently.

Sienna shrugged. "Don't read into it."

"I'm not," Mia said. "Not too much."

A pause.

Mia's voice dropped, quieter. "But for what it's worth… if it's not Elliot you want…"

Sienna turned to look at her.

Mia didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to.

Sienna looked away—just for a second—then back again.

Her smile this time was different.

Not sharp.

Not guarded.

Just... maybe.

---

Outside, Dante walked Roxanne to her car. She jingled her keys absently, eyes still carrying remnants of the night before.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I think I'm going to be."

He nodded.

"Thanks for… everything."

He smirked. "Even when I was a little too angry on your behalf?"

"Especially then," she said. "You were honest. That's rare."

She climbed in, rolled down the window. "You ever think maybe we were meant to meet when we did?"

Dante shrugged, but his eyes said yes.

"I think," he said, "we're all still figuring out what we're meant for."

Then she drove off.

He watched her go.

Didn't chase.

Didn't need to.

---

Inside the studio, Adrian was leaning against the doorframe, chatting up a cute tech assistant with a lip ring. His smile was back. This one was real.

"I like your boots," he said, casual.

"Yeah?" he replied. "I like your chaos."

Adrian beamed. "Mutual appreciation. I love that."

---

Back in the empty rehearsal space, Elliot stood alone now.

No spotlight.No crowd.No Roxanne.

Just the ceiling. And the faint dust floating in sunbeams through cracked windows.

His hands were loose at his sides. Guitar case untouched.

He didn't feel full. Or fixed. Or redeemed.

But for once, he wasn't running.

Outside, clouds drifted slowly. The sky was a little too bright. The air was warmer than it had been in weeks.

Elliot looked up.

And breathed.

He wasn't whole.But maybe, just maybe…He was healing.