Starstruck

5. Egypt

Egypt woke before sunrise, the unfamiliar shadows of her new room both thrilling and terrifying. Beside her, Karma slept peacefully, but Egypt's mind was already in the kitchen downstairs. Cooking had always been her safe space, even during her darkest days. Something about creating sustenance, nurturing others – it centered her in ways only music could match.

"Going to cook?" Karma mumbled, feeling her stir.

     "Need to check what they have first." Egypt kissed her forehead. "Go back to sleep."

The team house kitchen was massive – professional-grade equipment that made Egypt's hands itch to create. She opened the industrial fridge, mind already planning. Her mother had taught her that feeding people was an art form all its own.

"You're up early."

Egypt startled. Maxwell sat cross-legged in the breakfast nook, eyes closed in meditation.

"Sorry, I wanted to..." she gestured vaguely at the kitchen.

     "Cook. I know. The ancestors whispered you'd bring nurturing energy to our space." His eyes remained closed but he smiled. "The kitchen's been waiting for someone like you."

Something in Egypt's chest loosened. This, at least, she knew how to do.

By the time the rest of the house stirred, heavenly smells filled every corner. Fresh biscuits, honey butter, scrambled eggs with herbs, crispy potatoes, turkey bacon, and her mom's special french toast – the one recipe that had gotten her through the darkest days after the attack.

     "Holy shit," Marcus stopped dead in the doorway. "Is this heaven?"

     "Language," Egypt and Leila said simultaneously, then caught each other's eyes in surprised amusement.

     "Egypt stress cooks," Karma explained, entering the kitchen fully dressed. Liliana would be arriving soon to drive her back to Atlanta.

     "Feeding people is love," Egypt said softly, plating more French toast. "My mom taught me that."

Something in Leila's expression softened. "My mother says the same thing."

They gathered around the massive kitchen island, passing plates and sharing stories. Egypt learned Maxwell was vegan (she'd made him special breakfast quinoa), Marcus couldn't function without coffee, and Leila had a secret sweet tooth.

     "Queen's going to be mad she missed this," Marcus said around a mouthful of biscuit. "She usually grabs breakfast at her place."

Egypt's heart did a little flutter at the mention of Queen Safi, remembering yesterday's musical connection. Before she could respond, the front door opened.

     "Something smells amazing," a honey-rich voice called. "Who's spoiling my band?"

Egypt nearly dropped the plate she was holding. Queen Safi stood in the kitchen doorway, fresh from her morning run, locs pulled up messily. She looked somehow more real than yesterday, more human.

     "Egypt stress cooks," Marcus grinned. "We're keeping her."

     "I can see why." The queen's eyes met Egypt's, something warm in her gaze. "Save some for me?"

Before Egypt could answer, another voice called from the front door. "Karma? You ready?"

Liliana. Egypt's stomach twisted. She'd almost forgotten this part was coming.

"Up here, Li!" Karma called back. To Egypt, softer: "Walk me out?"

They said goodbye in Egypt's room while she packed, private and bittersweet.

     "Call me after rehearsal?" Karma asked, fixing Egypt's collar. "Tell me everything?"

     "Of course." Egypt tried to smile. "Text me when you get home safe?"

     "Always." Karma's kiss was gentle. "You're gonna be amazing, baby. Show them what you showed me through that wall."

Watching Karma walk to Liliana's car was harder than Egypt expected. Not because she was leaving – they'd figure out the distance – but because of the easy way Liliana helped with her bags, the familiar touch on Karma's back. Egypt forced herself to focus on the day ahead instead.

The studio beckoned.

At precisely 8:55, she headed to rehearsal. The studio door felt heavier than yesterday. Inside, Rising Sun was warming up – Marcus testing bass lines, Leila at the piano, Maxwell adjusting his drums. And there, in the center of it all, Queen Safi.

"Right on time," the queen smiled. "Ready to work?"

The next three hours passed in a blur of music. They started with Rising Sun's hits, Egypt learning to weave her saxophone through established arrangements. But it was the new material that sparked magic.

     "Try this," Queen Safi suggested during a break, humming a melody. Egypt caught it instantly, adding harmonies that made the queen's eyes light up.

"Yes, exactly like that. Marcus, give us that rhythm from earlier?"

They built the song piece by piece, everyone adding layers. Egypt lost herself in it, anxiety forgotten in the pure joy of creation. When she opened her eyes after a particularly passionate solo, she found Queen Safi watching her with an expression she couldn't read.

"Lunch break," Leila announced. "Egypt, you cooking?"

The question surprised her, but warmth bloomed in her chest. "Give me thirty minutes?"

She lost herself in the kitchen again, throwing together Caribbean chicken with rice and peas – another of her mom's recipes. The familiar motions soothed her anxiety about Karma leaving, about Liliana, about everything changing so fast.

"Your mother taught you well."

Egypt jumped. Queen Safi stood in the doorway, something soft in her expression.

"Cooking and music," Egypt smiled. "Her two languages of love."

     "Some people just know how to feed souls." The queen moved closer, inhaling deeply. "Through music, through food, through love itself."

The air felt thick suddenly, charged with something Egypt couldn't name. Then Maxwell appeared asking about vegan options and the moment broke.

The rest of the day passed similarly – moments of pure musical connection interrupted by reality. By the end, Egypt was physically exhausted but mentally alive in a way she hadn't felt since before her mom got sick.

That night, alone in her new room, she called Karma as promised. They talked about everything and nothing – the rehearsal, the team house, plans for visits. Egypt didn't ask about the drive with Liliana. Karma didn't volunteer details.

"You sound happy," Karma said softly.

     "I am." Egypt touched her saxophone, still warm from the day's playing. "Is that okay?"

"Baby, that's all I've ever wanted for you."

After they hung up, Egypt stood at her windows, watching Miami's lights. Tomorrow would bring more challenges, more music, more moments of panic and triumph. But for now, she let herself feel it all – the grief of goodbyes, the excitement of beginnings, and something else, something new that fluttered in her chest whenever Queen Safi smiled.

Change, she was learning, didn't always feel like falling.

Sometimes it felt like flying.