BENEATH THE CITY LIGHTS

Episode 5: Static in the Signal The sun rose behind a curtain of grey clouds, casting the city in a soft, smoky glow. For the first time in weeks, Amara didn’t need an alarm to wake her. Her thoughts had done the job. Memories of Kian’s lips on hers, the warmth of his touch, and the safety of his silence pulsed through her like music. Every beat of her heart was still wrapped in that night. She smiled to herself as she stood at the kitchen counter, pouring tea. Nia stepped out of her room, bleary-eyed. “You’re glowing.” Amara smirked. “It’s just the tea.” “No,” Nia said, pointing her spoon. “That’s a post-kiss blush. You didn’t text me all night. I figured either you were working or... working.” Amara laughed, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “We talked. And built another track. That’s it.” “Uh-huh. And the universe is silent.” Amara dodged a playful nudge and grabbed her phone. There was no message from Kian yet. That was fine. They didn’t need constant texting. What they shared felt deeper. Didn’t it? --- Later that day... The studio felt different. Amara walked in with a small bag of pastries from Kian’s favorite café, but something in the air was off—cooler. Quieter. Kian stood at the mixer, headphones on, eyes unreadable. He gave her a quick nod but didn’t reach for the bag or say anything beyond a soft, “Hey.” She paused. “Everything okay?” He pulled off his headphones slowly. “Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind.” “Want to talk about it?” He hesitated. “Can’t right now. I have a meeting in twenty.” Amara blinked. “Oh. I didn’t know.” “Didn’t think to mention it,” he said, eyes back on his screen. The silence between them wasn’t the kind they shared that night. It was sharp. Heavy. She set the pastries down. “I’ll get out of your way.” As she turned, Kian spoke, softer now. “Amara... things are moving fast. The label heard the track we made. They want it. They want me again.” Her eyes lit up. “Kian, that’s amazing.” He nodded, but his expression didn’t match the moment. “They want to repackage me. Reintroduce ‘Kay.’ They want to own the track... the one we built.” Something in her sank. “Are they crediting me?” “They—” he paused. “They said featuring a stylist with no rep would confuse the story.” A cold silence. Amara’s voice was steady, but her hands trembled. “I’m not just a stylist. You know that.” “I do. But this is my chance to finally get back in. I can’t mess it up.” She stared at him. “So you’re choosing them. Over the truth. Over us.” Kian exhaled. “It’s not that simple.” “No, Kian,” she said, stepping back. “It’s exactly that simple.” --- That night... Amara sat alone in her apartment, the city buzzing beneath her window. She opened her laptop, clicked through rough cuts of the track. Her humming still floated over the beat, raw and full of wonder. She remembered the night they recorded it. How he looked at her like she was the only sound in a noisy world. She clicked delete. Not the track—just the playlist folder titled “Us.” It was time to stop confusing rhythm with resonance. --- Meanwhile... Kian stood in the empty studio, the pastries untouched. His meeting had gone well. The label was excited. His name was trending again in whispers across the underground music scene. But the room felt colder than ever. He played the track again. Her voice. Her warmth. Static buzzed in the background, low and insistent. Kian turned off the soundboard, closed his eyes, and whispered to no one: “I messed up.” --- End of Episode 5

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