Starstruck

2. Egypt

Egypt woke before her alarm, heart already racing.

The RV's small bedroom was still dark, Karma's soft breathing the only sound besides the distant waves. For a moment, Egypt let herself float in the familiar comfort - the warmth of Karma beside her, the knowledge that Osiris slept in the front cabin, everyone who'd helped her break free of her apartment walls within reach.

She slipped out of bed carefully, grabbing her saxophone case from where it rested against the wall. Osiris had insisted on buying her the new instrument on their first day in Florida, refusing to let her start this journey with the shadows of broken things. The brass gleamed in the pre-dawn light filtering through the RV windows.

"You're up early."

Osiris's voice drifted from the small kitchen area where the scent of coffee already perfumed the air. Her brother sat at the fold-out table, guitar across his lap, though he wasn't playing.

     "Couldn't sleep," Egypt admitted, settling across from him. "Keep thinking about the audition."

     "You got this, sis." His smile was gentle. "That video we posted? People can't stop watching it. You're ready."

Egypt's fingers found the saxophone keys, not playing, just touching. Grounding herself. "What if—"

     "Stop." Osiris reached across, squeezing her hand. "I've never seen you play like you did on that beach. Something's different now. You're different."

Heat crept into Egypt's cheeks. The beach video had gone viral overnight, comments pouring in about the raw emotion, the technical skill, the pure soul in every note. She still couldn't believe people had connected so deeply with her pain, her healing.

     "I made you something." Osiris stood, returning with a plate of french toast - their mom's recipe. "Need you fueled up for your big day."

The familiar cinnamon scent brought tears to Egypt's eyes. "Mom would've loved this. Being here, seeing me actually doing it."

     "She is here." Osiris's voice was firm. "Every note you play, she's right there with you."

Movement from the bedroom interrupted them as Karma emerged, sleep-rumpled and beautiful. "My star," she mumbled, dropping a kiss on Egypt's head before heading for the coffee. The simple affection settled Egypt's nerves slightly.

They arrived at Rising Sun Studios an hour early. Egypt had insisted - better early than anxious about being late. The building was unassuming - a converted warehouse with simple signage, nothing flashy.

     "Want us to come in with you?" Karma asked, squeezing her hand.

Egypt shook her head. "I need to... I don't know. Feel the space first? Is that weird?"

     "Not weird at all," Osiris assured her. "We'll get breakfast across the street. Text if you need us."

The studio's interior was cool and dark, seemingly empty this early. Egypt wandered, saxophone case clutched to her chest, taking in the space. Photos lined the walls - Rising Sun performances, award shows, recording sessions. And there in many of them, Queen Safi - commanding every frame with quiet power.

Then she heard it.

Music drifted from somewhere deeper in the building - a melody she recognized, but transformed. Her mother's favorite jazz standard, but with an island rhythm weaving through it. A voice like honey and smoke curled through the notes.

Without conscious thought, Egypt pulled out her saxophone.

The music drew her forward until she found its source - a small practice room, door slightly ajar. Through the gap, she saw her. Queen Safi, eyes closed, locs swaying as she sang, lost in the music.

Egypt's saxophone joined the melody before she could stop herself.

The queen's eyes opened, finding Egypt's instantly. Something electric passed between them. But neither stopped playing or singing. The song transformed into something new - jazz and island rhythms dancing together, healing and hurting and hoping all at once.

Neither heard the practice room door open wider.

Neither saw Karma and Osiris in the doorway, breakfast forgotten, watching their worlds shift.

Neither noticed the rest of Rising Sun gathering, drawn by the sound.

There was only the music, the melody, the magic of two souls speaking without words.

When the last note faded, silence fell heavy with possibility.

     "You play what's in my head, sweet girl." Queen Safi's voice was rich with her Bajan accent. "Been waitin' to hear dat."

Egypt's heart thundered. "I know that song. My mom..."

     "Your momma has good taste." The queen stepped closer, something knowing in her eyes. "Got her strength too, I feel it."

Applause broke the spell. Egypt turned to find their audience - Karma and Osiris in front, her brother's knowing smile matching Karma's proud glow. Behind them, faces she recognized from album covers and music videos, all wearing expressions of approval.

     "Well," a man Egypt would later learn was James, the label manager, said, "I guess we can skip the formal audition."

Later, after contracts were disscussed and plans were made, after learning about the team house and recording schedules, Karma pulled Egypt close outside the studio.

     "Baby, this is everything you've dreamed of," she whispered fiercely. "You have to take it. Have to chase it."

"But you...Atlanta..."

     "We'll figure it out." Karma's kiss was soft, certain. "I'm always going to root for you. Always going to be proud of you. This is your moment."

Egypt held her girlfriend tighter, grateful for the understanding, for the support, for everything that had led to this moment. She didn't see the look that passed between Karma and Osiris - a quiet acknowledgment of something they both recognized in that practice room, something they'd talk about much later.

For now, there was only possibility. Only music. Only the lingering echo of a voice like honey and smoke, weaving through Egypt's thoughts like destiny.