Unwritten Melodies

Chapter 10

Daou sat in the dressing room, surrounded by actors he'd spent the day with on the set of his new movie. Makeup brushes swept over faces, outfits were adjusted, and snippets of last-minute directions filled the room. Despite the chatter and activity, Daou's focus drifted to his phone screen.

Three weeks. Three weeks since he'd last seen Offroad in person. But even though their schedules kept them apart, Daou had never really stopped reaching out. Everyday, he'd send a text, a random photo, or a small update—anything to reconnect with him.

Today, he typed another message.

"Have you eaten?"

The message was simple, almost casual, but it carried layers of care. As he waited for a reply, he busied himself by nodding along to the conversation between his castmates, laughing in the right places. But his heart remained with his phone, as though each vibration could bring Offroad closer in some way.

He checked the screen again. Still no reply. But he knew he would wait.

Rinda, his hairstylist, noticed the way his attention kept drifting back to his phone, her eyes narrowing with a teasing glint.

"Waiting for a reply?" she mused, raising an eyebrow as she adjusted a few stray strands in his hair.

Daou rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. "Nosy much?"

"Oh, I'm not nosy," she said with a knowing smirk. "You're just making it way too obvious."

He feigned exasperation, but Rinda's playful observation had already stirred something in him. He glanced back at his phone, reopening their chat with a sigh.

Their recent messages scrolled by, a small archive of shared laughter and lingering warmth. Offroad had never been big on texting, especially not back in the early days. He'd always been the type to call, to let his voice do the talking. A voice message here, a late-night call there—texting had never really been his style.

Daou hesitated, fingers lingering over the keyboard. As much as he wanted to ask Offroad about his schedule, to maybe sneak in a quick meeting, he held back. 

He was just starting to rebuild something delicate, and he didn't want to push too hard. 

Baby steps, he reminded himself. If he wanted Offroad to feel comfortable again, to trust him like before, he had to tread carefully.

To distract himself, he opened X and scrolled through the endless stream of fans' posts, heartwarming messages, and tagged photos. They filled the screen with glimpses of concert highlights, behind-the-scenes photos, and fan art. Smiling, he allowed himself to take in the excitement of his supporters, feeling grateful for each post.

Curious, he typed Offroad's name into the search bar. He hadn't thought to ask him directly about his new ventures—hadn't dared to, really. 

Not yet. 

Asking about his schedules, his life, even simple things... it felt like too much, too soon. If he was going to reconnect with Offroad, he wanted it to feel genuine, not forced. He wanted Offroad to know he was patient, that he wasn't expecting anything more than what Offroad was ready to give.

As he scrolled through mentions and photos, Daou noticed a few posts from fans who seemed to be piecing things together too. Whispers of Offroad's latest work, excitement over his rumored comeback to the runway, and speculations about him possibly attending some upcoming events. It made Daou smile, seeing how Offroad's presence still had such an impact.

And somewhere in that sea of posts, there were subtle mentions of them together—old videos, tiny clips from their Lazicon days, posted by fans who remembered the way their dynamic used to be.