Euphony Trio: The Missing Piece

The hallway buzzed with the usual cacophony of chatter, the scrape of sneakers against the tiled floor, and the faint echo of lockers being slammed shut. Sunny walked with a group of classmates, her golden hair catching the light as she listened with a cheerful smile to the conversation around her. It was a typical day at school, and yet, it felt anything but typical to her.

One of her friends nudged her playfully. "So, Sunny, how's it feel being a big-time star? Must be nice to have your own band and all."

Sunny laughed, waving it off. "Oh, come on. It's not that big of a deal. We're just doing what we love."

Another friend chimed in, "Not a big deal? You've got thousands of fans and actual music videos! If that's not a big deal, I don't know what is."

She shrugged, keeping her tone light. "I mean, it's cool, yeah. But it's still just us doing our thing. Nothing's really changed that much."

Except everything had changed. Sunny could feel it. The attention she'd once welcomed now came with strings attached. Lately, there'd been whispers—small cracks in the bubble of positivity that had surrounded her since the band's public debut. Not everyone was rooting for her anymore. Jealousy had started to creep in, manifesting in subtle digs and insincere smiles.

As she walked, her friends laughed and joked, but Sunny couldn't help wondering: Were they really her friends, or were they just here because she was Sunny from Euphony Trio? The thought lingered, but she shoved it aside, masking her unease with the same radiant beam that seemed to draw people to her like moths to a flame. Whether they liked her or not, they still wanted to be around her. That had to mean something, right?

The bell rang, and her group dispersed with hurried goodbyes. Sunny made her way to her locker, the cheerful facade slipping ever so slightly as she stared at the pile of textbooks she needed to review. Two tests this week—and not easy ones. She wasn't exactly the best at studying, and the weight of everything she had to juggle felt heavier than ever.

With a sigh, she grabbed her books and headed to the library. It was quiet there, a place where she could think. On her way, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a text from her mom:

Mom: How are you holding up? Remember, school comes first. The band is fine for now, but you need a backup plan. This won't last forever.

Sunny's grip on the phone tightened. She loved her parents, but their concern felt like a weight dragging her down. She had moved out months ago, using her earnings from the band to rent a small apartment in the city. It was her way of proving she could handle herself. Yet, the questions about her future never stopped.

She typed back quickly: I'm fine, Mom. Don't worry.

But she wasn't sure how true that was.

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By the time school ended, Sunny's energy felt drained. She stopped by a café to grab a snack before heading to the studio for rehearsal. Laura and Axel were already there when she arrived.

"Hey, you're early," Laura said, glancing up from her notes.

Sunny grinned, dropping her bag onto a nearby chair. "Trying to be responsible, you know? Actually, I was hoping you guys could help me study later. Got a couple of tests coming up, and I'm terrible at this stuff."

"We've noticed," Axel teased, earning a glare from Sunny that quickly melted into a laugh.

"Seriously, though," Sunny said, turning to Laura. "You're good at this kind of thing. Can you quiz me later?"

Laura nodded. "Of course. But only if you're serious about it. No distractions."

"No distractions," Sunny promised, holding up her hands.

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As they waited for rehearsal to start, Sunny's thoughts drifted to Zane. He'd only been with the group a short time, but he'd already made an impression. She liked the energy he brought—how he wasn't afraid to stand out. He even matched her enthusiasm in a way no one else had before. It was refreshing and... challenging.

Sunny smirked to herself, remembering how he'd dubbed Laura the "Ice Queen." It was funny because it was true, but she knew he meant it in good fun. And his performances? They had flair, that was for sure. He pushed her to do better, to match his energy and maybe even outshine him. She wasn't the most competitive person, but Zane brought out something in her she hadn't felt before. A spark.

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After rehearsal, Sunny stayed behind to practice some lines on her own. The studio was silent, save for the faint hum of the equipment. She sat at the piano, her fingers lightly brushing the keys as she tried to focus on the melody in her head. But her thoughts kept drifting—to the tests, to the whispers, to her parents' texts. The weight of it all felt suffocating.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a message from her dad:

Dad: Remember what we talked about. Have you started thinking about what you'll do after graduation?

Sunny sighed, setting the phone down. She knew they meant well, but the constant questioning about her future only added to the pressure. The band was her dream. It was working now, and she believed in what they were doing. Why couldn't that be enough?

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the door open behind her. Zane stepped into the studio, his sneakers making a faint thud against the floor. He had forgotten his notebook and had come back to grab it. But when he saw Sunny sitting alone at the piano, her usual vibrant energy dimmed, he paused.

For a moment, he debated whether to say something. Sunny always seemed so cheerful, so unshakably happy, as if nothing could bring her down. But the way she sat, her shoulders slightly hunched, her head bowed—it told a different story.

Zane shifted awkwardly, his hand brushing the strap of his bag. He wasn't sure if she'd want him to notice her like this. What if he said the wrong thing? What if she didn't want him to see this side of her at all?

He lingered for a moment longer, his mouth opening as if to speak, but then he closed it. Maybe it was better to leave her be. Everyone had their moments, and maybe this was hers. Quietly, he grabbed his notebook from the table and slipped out of the studio without a word.

As the door clicked shut, Sunny exhaled deeply, unaware she'd been holding her breath. She rested her hands on the piano keys, letting the notes fill the room. Even in the silence, the music felt like a small comfort, a reminder that she could keep going—even if she wasn't sure how.