Starstruck

6. Safiya

Queen Safi wasn't avoiding her own team house. She just... preferred her beach house. Usually. But it had been five days since Egypt Monroe moved in, and somehow Safiya found herself there every morning, drawn by the scent of whatever magical creation Egypt was cooking for the team.

     "Just admit you love her food," Marcus teased one morning, catching her sneaking into the kitchen before rehearsal.

     "I love punctuality," she replied smoothly, but they both knew she'd never arrived this early before.

Egypt stood at the stove, saxophone playing softly through her headphones while she cooked, completely lost in her own world. The protection beads warmed against Safiya's skin as she watched Egypt sway slightly to whatever she was playing, adding spices to something that smelled like heaven.

     "Morning, Queen." Egypt smiled without turning around, and something in Safiya's chest tightened. How did she always know when she was there?

     "Whatever you're making," Safiya managed, "it smells like my grandmother's kitchen."

Egypt turned then, eyes bright. "Island spice breakfast hash. My mom learned it from a Jamaican neighbor. Want to taste?"

Before Safiya could answer, Egypt was already holding out a spoon. Their fingers brushed during the exchange, and Safiya nearly dropped it.

The food tasted like home. Like Sunday mornings in Barbados, like Gran's kitchen, like belonging.

"Good?" Egypt asked softly.

Safiya could only nod, not trusting her voice. The protection beads felt like fire against her skin.

Later, in rehearsal, she tried to focus on being Queen Safi, on maintaining professional distance. But Egypt's saxophone wove through their music like it had always belonged there, filling spaces Safiya hadn't even known were empty.

     "Again," she called after their third run-through of a new song. "Egypt, try that riff from yesterday, the one that made Marcus cry."

     "I had something in my eye," Marcus protested, but he was already grinning, bass ready.

Egypt closed her eyes and played, and everything else disappeared. Safiya found herself singing harmony without planning to, their sounds merging like they were made for each other. When she opened her eyes, she caught Leila watching her with concern.

"Break," Leila announced suddenly. "Queen, can we talk?"

In Safiya's private studio, Leila didn't waste time. "What are you doing?"

"Working on the new album?"

     "Don't." Leila's eyes were serious. "I see how you look at her when you think no one's watching. How you show up early for her breakfast. How you can't help harmonizing with her solos."

"She's talented—"

"She has a girlfriend."

The words hit like a physical blow. Safiya touched her beads automatically. "I know that."

"Do you? Because the energy between you two..."

     "Is professional," Safiya finished firmly. But even she heard the lie in her voice.

That night, unable to sleep, she called Gran.

     "Took you long enough," her grandmother answered. "Tell me what's happening with de girl."

Safiya sank onto her beach house balcony, watching the waves. "She's everything you said, Gran. Her music, her soul, the way she takes care of everyone... but she has someone."

"Mmhmm. And your heart don't care 'bout dat."

     "My heart doesn't get a vote. She's my artist. My band member. Nothing else."

Gran's laugh crackled through the phone. "Child, when you gonna learn? De heart always votes. Always wins. You think love asks permission?"

     "What am I supposed to do?" Safiya's voice cracked slightly. "Every morning I tell myself to stay away, to keep it professional. Then she plays one note, or smiles, or feeds everyone like it's the most natural thing in the world, and I..."

     "And you feel everything," Gran finished softly. "Because dat's what happens when de ancestors send us what we need, not what we think we want."

After the call, Safiya found herself driving to the team house. She told herself it was to work on the new song. It was nearly midnight – surely everyone would be asleep.

But soft saxophone notes drifted from the practice room window. Egypt's window. Before she could stop herself, Safiya was inside, following the sound like that first day.

Egypt sat in her practice room, eyes closed, playing what sounded like a love song turned lament. She hadn't heard Safiya enter, lost in whatever emotion was pouring through her saxophone.

The protection beads burned against Safiya's skin as she settled at the piano. When Egypt hit the chorus again, Safiya's fingers found the harmony automatically.

Egypt's eyes opened, but she didn't stop playing. Something passed between them, heavy with things they couldn't say. They played together until the song ended, letting the music speak what words couldn't.

"Can't sleep?" Egypt asked finally, voice barely a whisper.

     "Something like that." Safiya's fingers traced piano keys absently. "That song..."

"Something I'm working on. An addition for the album maybe."

     "It's beautiful." Like you, Safiya thought but didn't say.

They sat in comfortable silence, the night wrapping around them like a secret. Finally, Safiya stood. She had to leave before she did something stupid like brush Egypt's hair back, or trace the curve of her jaw, or...

     "Queen?" Egypt's voice stopped her at the door. "Will you... I mean, would you want to work on it together? The song?"

Safiya knew she should say no. Knew late night writing sessions were dangerous. Knew Leila would give her that look tomorrow.

"Tomorrow night," she heard herself say. "Same time."

Walking to her car, Safiya could almost hear Gran's knowing laugh. The protection beads hummed against her skin, warm like Egypt's smile, like possibility, like warning.

Some waves, Gran had said, you just had to let crash over you.

Safiya was already drowning.rt writing your story