The melodies of our hearts

Chapter 5

The next morning dawned gray and misty, typical of Seattle. Lena wrapped herself in a warm sweater and made her way to the hotel lobby, trying to shake off the lingering haze of last night's concert and the unexpected conversation with Elliot. Every time she closed her eyes, she could still see the look in his—unfiltered, raw, and vulnerable. It was like she'd glimpsed a version of him that no one else got to see, and it lingered with her in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Mitch had arranged for a few hours of downtime before they hit the road again. Most of the crew and band members were likely still asleep, taking advantage of the rare late start, but Lena couldn't shake her habit of being up early. She was sitting with a steaming cup of coffee and her notebook open on the table when someone slid into the seat across from her.

"Morning."

It was Nate, his hair still damp from a shower, looking far too awake for someone who'd been out late with the band. She gave him a small smile. "Morning. Surprised to see anyone else up this early." Nate shrugged, flashing a grin. "I'm a morning person. Besides, gotta keep the energy up if I'm gonna survive another night of screaming fans." He took a sip of his coffee, studying her for a moment. "So, what did you think of last night?"

"About the show?" She pretended to be casual, but she could feel her cheeks warm. "Yeah," he said with a smirk. "And about my brooding friend. He's not easy to get close to, is he?" Lena hesitated, unsure of how much she wanted to share. Nate was perceptive, and something in his gaze told her he already knew more than he was letting on. "He's... complicated," she said finally. "I think he carries a lot that people don't see." Nate nodded thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against his coffee cup. "You're not wrong. We've been doing this for years now, and I still don't think I've got him all figured out." He chuckled, a note of sadness in his tone. "But there's a lot he doesn't say. Just throws it into the music and lets it be what it is."

Lena felt a pang of empathy, thinking back to Elliot's words the night before, his quiet admission about losing pieces of himself on stage. "It must be hard, giving so much of yourself to strangers every night." Nate looked at her, his eyes suddenly serious. "It's more than hard—it's dangerous. You give that much of yourself away, and you start to wonder if there's anything left for you at the end of it." Lena absorbed his words, feeling them echo her own thoughts. She'd seen other artists burn out, consumed by the constant demands and expectations. She'd written about those stories, but never from this close, never with the possibility of getting caught in the crossfire.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nate shrugged, but his gaze didn't waver. "Because I think he needs someone like you around. Someone who actually sees him." Lena's heart did a little flip at the way he said it, her cheeks warming again. "I'm here to do my job, Nate," she replied, trying to keep her tone light. Nate's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Sure you are."

Just then, the elevator doors opened, and Elliot appeared, his hair tousled and a hood pulled up over his head. His eyes found hers immediately, and he gave her a small nod before heading toward the coffee bar. She could still feel the effects of last night in that one look, the weight of everything unspoken simmering between them.

When he joined them at the table, Nate didn't miss a beat. "Morning, brooding artist," he teased. Elliot rolled his eyes. "Morning, annoying drummer." Lena stifled a laugh, and Elliot's eyes shifted to her, his smirk softening. "Did you sleep?" "Not much," she admitted. "Still riding the high from the show, I guess." Elliot's expression softened, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes. "It's... something, isn't it?" he said, his tone almost reverent. "Being up there, just... letting it all out." She nodded, feeling a tug of connection between them. "It's incredible. I think I get why people fall in love with it."

He held her gaze a moment longer, and then Nate cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. Got some things to do before we hit the road."

With a wink in Lena's direction, Nate stood and ambled away, leaving her and Elliot in a bubble of silence. The air felt charged, every word, every glance carrying a weight that hadn't been there before. She took a sip of her coffee, hoping it would settle the nervous energy buzzing through her.

"You were good last night," she said, breaking the silence. "Better than good, actually. I think that's the best I've ever seen you perform." Elliot looked down, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. "Thanks," he murmured. "It felt... different last night." He paused, glancing at her. "I think talking to you before the show... I don't know, made it feel a little more real."

Her heart skipped at the admission. She'd been around artists for years, but rarely had she seen someone so open about the blurred line between performer and person. "You told me that music is where you put the things you can't say out loud," she said softly. "It made me wonder what's behind those songs—the real stories." Elliot's eyes darkened, and he took a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze unfocused. "Sometimes I don't even know what they're about until I sing them a hundred times," he replied quietly. "Some of it's about... loss, I guess. The kind that doesn't make sense." She leaned forward, her voice gentle. "You mean... relationships?" He shook his head, his jaw tightening. "Not just relationships. It's more than that. Losing... parts of myself. Pieces I didn't even know I'd given away."

Lena's heart ached at his words. She could see it now, the unspoken cost of fame, of being everything to everyone but himself. The stage was a sanctuary, but it was also a place that demanded everything, leaving him emptied out and struggling to find who he was beneath it all. "Is it worth it?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. He looked at her, something raw and undefended in his expression. "Most days... yeah. But some days, I wonder what would be left of me if I just... stopped."

The vulnerability in his gaze was almost too much to bear, and she had to look away, blinking back the emotion his words stirred in her. She wanted to tell him it was okay to stop, to take a break, but she knew it wasn't that simple. For him, music wasn't just a job—it was a lifeline, a way to keep his demons at bay.

"Maybe you don't have to figure it all out now," she said softly. "Maybe it's enough just to... be here, doing what you love." He gave her a faint, grateful smile. "You're probably right." He paused, the shadow lifting slightly from his gaze. "I don't usually talk about this stuff. Guess I'm not used to having someone listen." Her heart fluttered, and she tried to ignore the warmth spreading through her chest. "I'm here to listen. You know that, right?" Elliot looked down, a smile tugging at his lips. "I know. That's what makes it harder to ignore you."

They shared a quiet laugh, the tension between them easing just a bit. He glanced at his watch, letting out a reluctant sigh. "Guess we should head out. Bus leaves in an hour."

They finished their coffees and stood, falling into step together as they made their way to the lobby. The rest of the band and crew were gathering, packing up bags and loading equipment. The familiar hustle and bustle of life on the road was in full swing, and yet, Lena felt a strange stillness within herself, like something had shifted between them.

As they boarded the bus, she found her usual seat and settled in, watching as Elliot moved to the back. Before he sat down, he caught her eye and gave her a small, private smile, one that made her heart beat just a little faster.

The bus rumbled to life, and she opened her notebook, jotting down notes from last night's concert, from this morning's conversations. But her thoughts kept drifting back to him, to the way he'd opened up in those rare, quiet moments. She felt a pull toward him, a magnetic draw that left her both exhilarated and terrified.

This wasn't just a story anymore. It was a glimpse into something real, something messy and beautiful. And for the first time, Lena wondered if she was ready to follow where it might lead.

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