Anthologies {MIKHAIAH AU}

rockstar pt 6

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the apartment, mingling with the sweet scent of pancakes sizzling on the stove. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden streaks across the living room floor. It was a mundane Sunday morning, but to Aiah, it felt like something out of a dream.

From the kitchen, she could hear the sounds of Enzo giggling and Mikha shouting in mock frustration.

"Enzo, no way—NO WAY! You're cheating!" Mikha cried dramatically.

"I'm not cheating, Teacher Mikha!" Enzo yelled back, his voice full of childish glee. "I'm just better than you!"

"Excuse me, Rockstar," Mikha replied, her voice laced with exaggerated offense, "but no one beats me at Guitar Hero. I'm a professional musician!"

Aiah peeked out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel, and smiled at the sight of them. Mikha was sitting cross-legged on the carpet in front of the TV, the bright plastic guitar in her hands as she furiously hit the buttons, her red hair bouncing with her movements. Enzo was beside her, gripping his own tiny Guitar Hero controller with all the seriousness of a five-year-old who truly believed he was in a rock band.

Mikha's tongue poked out slightly in concentration as she focused on the screen, while Enzo grinned mischievously, completely destroying her score.

"Mama, look! I'm winning!" Enzo called out when he noticed her, his voice bursting with pride.

"I see that, sweetheart," Aiah said, laughing softly. "Teacher Mikha, mukhang kailangan mong mag-practice pa."

Mikha turned toward her, feigning betrayal. "You're siding with him now?"

"Well, he's not wrong," Aiah teased, stepping back into the kitchen to finish plating the pancakes. "You're getting destroyed by a five-year-old, professional musician or not."

Mikha groaned dramatically, dropping her head back. "This is the most humiliating moment of my life."

"It's okay, Teacher Mikha," Enzo said kindly, patting her shoulder like a little sage. "You're still good at guitar. Just not this guitar."

Aiah burst into laughter as Mikha glared at Enzo in mock outrage. "Wow, Rockstar," Mikha said, shaking her head. "You really know how to humble a person, huh?"

Carrying two plates of pancakes, Aiah walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, her laughter softening into a smile as she took in the scene again.

It hit her then—an overwhelming sense of completeness.

The sight of Mikha sitting there with Enzo, laughing and playing, felt so natural, so effortless, that it took Aiah's breath away. For the first time in years, her life felt full. Whole. Complete.

She hadn't been looking for anyone—she had long since accepted that it would just be her and Enzo against the world. And she had been okay with that. But then Mikha had come into their lives, unassuming and unapologetically herself, and she had changed everything.

Mikha made her feel seen in a way no one ever had. She made Aiah feel loved and appreciated, without expecting anything in return.

And seeing her with Enzo—so patient, so adoring, so naturally maternal—only confirmed what Aiah had been feeling for weeks now.

She loved Mikha.

Without fanfare or dramatics, just as simply as she loved the sound of Enzo's laughter or the smell of pancakes on a Sunday morning.

Balancing the plates, she walked over to the couch and placed one in front of Enzo, who immediately dropped his guitar to dive into his breakfast.

"For the Rockstar," Aiah said, ruffling his hair.