The kitchen smelled like cookies and leftover wine. Plates of half-eaten snacks were scattered across the counter, and someone had left a speaker quietly playing in the corner—Ophelia's new album, soft and a little haunting, the way only heartbreak wrapped in melody could be.
The group has been back in London for a few weeks; Ophelia's new album being the talk between them. Which is why they sat in Lou and Ophelia's shared apartment.
The sun had started to dip behind the clouds outside, casting the whole flat in that golden hue that made everything feel a little too nostalgic. Lou was curled into the arm of the couch, legs tucked under her, a bowl of popcorn dangerously close to falling. Audrey had taken over the floor, leaning back on her elbows, while Ava sat perched on the windowsill with her chin resting on her knees. Josh, Ryan, and Robert were spread across the mismatched armchairs like they'd melted into them. Elijah was in the corner, flipping through a magazine he wasn't reading.
"So," Audrey said after a lull in conversation, glancing up at Ophelia with that pointed look, "you gonna tell them?"
All eyes turned.
Ophelia sighed, sipping from her glass, and set it down with a small smile. "Right. Okay. I was gonna wait until everyone was more... drunk or distracted, but here goes nothing"
She stood up, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm moving. Like, properly moving. Out of Ireland. I leave next week."
The room paused. It wasn't quiet—someone's glass clinked and the music kept playing—but the energy shifted instantly.
"Wait, what?" Lou sat up straighter, brows furrowed. "You're leaving leaving?"
Ophelia nodded. "The album's out. Tour starts in a month. I'm crashing in London for a bit until we go. Audrey's coming with me—thank god—but yeah. It's happening."
Audrey gave a small wave from the floor. "Guess who's now Ophelia's emotional support roadie-slash-glorified bag carrier."
"Unreal," Ryan said, eyes wide. "You're going full rockstar."
"Popstar," Ophelia corrected, grinning. "But yeah. I guess so."
Josh shifted in his seat. "Well, you're not the only one. Our album's nearly there. We'll be on the road not long after. Gonna be weird not seeing anyone for a while."
There was a long pause. Audrey nodded slowly. "Looks like it."
Lou let out a small, dramatic gasp. "I'm going to be abandoned. You're all just gonna leave me here to rot in Ireland."
"You're not rotting," Ava said, half-laughing.
"Speak for yourself," Lou muttered. "I've been emotionally fragile since Ophelia dropped that song with my name in it."
Ophelia snorted. "It wasn't about you and your name isn't Amelie."
"But it felt like it was."
"Alright, calm down," Robert said, throwing a popcorn kernel at her. "We'll FaceTime. You'll see our dumb faces constantly. You'll beg for silence."
Lou pouted. "It won't be the same."
Elijah finally looked up. "Nothing's ever the same after an album drops. That's kind of the point, right?"
Ophelia glanced over at him, and their eyes caught just for a second too long. The room didn't notice. Or maybe it did, and no one said anything.
Josh cleared his throat. "Honestly, though, it's mad. Watching you go from dodgy little demos to this. Ophelia, your album's stupidly good."
"That one about drugs?" Ryan added. "Ruined me. Fully."
Ava nodded in agreement. "I cried on the bus. Twice."
"I didn't cry," Robert said. "But I did dramatically stare out my window like I was in a sad indie film."
"That's worse," Lou said.
"Agreed," Ophelia smirked.
Audrey glanced at Ophelia, then casually dropped, "You should probably tell them about the Swift thing."
Ophelia groaned. "I told you not to—"
Robert sat up. "The what?!"
She held up both hands. "Okay, look. Nothing's confirmed. Like, nothing. But there's talk I might open a few of Taylor's American shows, with Phoebe Bridgers"
The room erupted.
"You're joking!" Ryan practically yelled.
"Shut up!" Lou screamed, grabbing a cushion and chucking it at her. "Are you kidding me?!"
"I'm not," Ophelia said, laughing through the chaos. "But seriously. Keep it quiet. If it doesn't happen, I will have to disappear and live in a cave."
"No promises," Robert grinned. "I might have already tweeted about it."
"You don't even use Twitter."
"Exactly. That's how big a deal this is."
Someone turned the music up again, and the room dissolved into laughter and excitement and plans for when they'd next see each other. The sun had all but disappeared now, leaving the place bathed in soft lamp light and the kind of warmth that only came from knowing you'd be missed.
Lou raised her glass one last time, voice just a little wobbly now. "Swear to me, all of you. We come back. This flat. This couch. Same snacks, same terrible playlist. You have to come back."
They all raised theirs, one by one.
"Deal." "Swear it." "Even if we're famous?" "Especially if we're famous." "Even if I'm dating Taylor Swift?" Robert added.
"You won't be," Josh muttered.
Laughter broke out again.
And for a while, the world felt wide open—filled with tour buses and stages and empty airports and promises they hadn't yet broken
