HAPPINESS WE SEEK FOR

Chapter 14

The soft hum of a fan fills the room as Elia, Maggie, Cardan, and Isa lounge in mismatched chairs, waiting for Elia and Isa's next scene. The air smells faintly of popcorn and fabric softener, and the cushy green room offers a rare moment of peace. Outside, the set buzzes with the energy of crew members hustling, but in here, the four of them exist in a bubble of nostalgia and unspoken grief.

Cardan is sprawled across a small couch, head tilted against the wall, fingers scrolling mindlessly on his phone. Isa sits cross-legged on the floor, drumming his fingers on his knees in a rhythm only he can hear. Maggie, hunched over in a chair, tosses a small foam stress ball into the air, catching it without effort. Elia, seated next to Maggie, picks at the loose threads on her hoodie. Her hair—usually meticulously styled—hangs in a lazy, half-wild mess.

They're waiting, but no one is in a rush.

They are just waiting to be called to do their scene. Isa and Elia at least. Maggie and Cardan were just there as the 4 of them love to stick together and hang together whenever they can. They spend most of their time with each other if they're not with their own respective family.

"How long has it been since you last got in your music room?" Maggie asked softly. The question lingers between them, gentle but deliberate. Maggie already knows the answer. She knows exactly why Elia hasn't set foot in that room for months. The last memory there wasn't just music and laughter—it was Jamie. Jamie played guitar while Elia tinkered on the piano, both of them improvising silly covers of songs.

And then... the accident. The music stopped, and Elia's world shattered.

Isa exchanges a brief glance with Maggie. Both of them know that if they wait for Elia to bring it up herself, it'll never happen. They've walked this line carefully—trying to give her space without letting her slip too far into her own grief. But Elia has a habit of shutting down, burying herself so deep that even those closest to her struggle to reach her.

And that's why they're here. They aren't trying to push her too hard, but they know Elia needs more than just time. She needs a nudge. Without one, she'll stay exactly where she is—frozen, stuck between the life she had before the accident and the one she's too afraid to step into now.

Elia stiffens for half a second at Maggie's question, the small comfort of the moment slipping through her fingers.

"I don't know, Mags." Elia said quietly as she fidgets with the strings of her hoodie, glancing at Isa as if for backup

Isa leaned forward from his spot, speaking gently but teasingly "It's just an empty room, Lia. No ghosts. Well... I mean, not the bad kind."

Elia gives her a small, reluctant smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Look, I get it. Trust me, I really do. I haven't touched anything that belonged to Jamie either. But you were so good with music. You need something, Elia. Just... something for you." Maggie exclaimed, softening her tone, her smile fading to something more serious "It doesn't have to be a big deal, you know. Just... open the door. Go in for a minute, see how it feels."

Elia's jaw tightens. She knows Maggie's right, but the thought of stepping back into that room makes her chest ache. It's not just a music room anymore—it's a time capsule of everything she lost.

Cardan, who's been silently flipping through the magazine, finally speaks up. His voice is low and steady, the way it always is when he's trying to be careful with Elia.

"Just because you go in there doesn't mean you're saying goodbye to him."

Elia glances at him, her expression flickering with something raw and vulnerable. Cardan knows what it's like to live with loss. Maybe not exactly the way Elia does, but close enough. He knows how grief can trap you, how it can make you afraid to revisit the things that once brought you joy.