The morning after Jamie walked out of the café with Alex's melody, Alex woke up with their heart pounding.
It took three blinks against the sunlight streaming through their curtains to remember why.
Jamie had played their song.
Not just played it;performed it. At a real gig. With real people listening.
Alex groaned and pulled the blanket over their head.
Their phone buzzed from somewhere under the pillow. Maya, probably. She'd sent approximately twelve texts last night after Alex had told her what happened, each one more obnoxious than the last. ("Oh my GOD you're basically a celebrity now" and "When's the wedding?")
Alex fumbled for the phone, squinting at the screen.
Not Maya.
An unknown number.
Hey. It's Jamie. From the café?
Alex's stomach did something complicated.
You alive?
Alex stared at the words, their fingers hovering over the screen. What were they supposed to say? No, I died of embarrassment when you actually played my song in public?
Before they could decide, another text popped up.
Come to the park today. 2pm. Bring more napkins.
Alex's breath caught.
A second later:
No audience. Just me. Promise.
The Park Bench
Alex was fifteen minutes early.
They'd told themselves they wouldn't go. That it was stupid. That nothing good could come from sharing their music with a near-stranger, no matter how unfairly pretty his smile was.
And yet.
Here they were.
The park was quiet for a Saturday afternoon;just a few joggers, a couple walking their dog, the distant laughter of kids by the playground. Alex sat stiffly on a bench, their backpack full of crumpled napkins feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds.
"You came."
Alex jumped. Jamie stood in front of them, guitar slung across his back, sunlight catching the gold in his hair. He was grinning like he'd won something.
"I" Alex swallowed. "I was just walking by."
Jamie's grin widened. "Uh-huh." He dropped onto the bench beside them, close enough that their knees almost brushed. "So. You bring the goods?"
Alex hesitated, then pulled a handful of napkins from their bag. They were less crumpled than usual;they'd actually tried to smooth them out this morning, which was embarrassing in hindsight.
Jamie took them carefully, like they were something precious. He scanned the first one, humming under his breath. "Damn, you're good at this."
Alex's face warmed. "They're just rough ideas."
"Rough ideas that are better than most polished songs I know." Jamie looked up, his eyes startlingly earnest. "Seriously, Alex. You've got something special."
Alex didn't know what to do with that, so they focused on picking at a loose thread on their jeans.
Jamie nudged their shoulder. "Hey. Look at me."
Reluctantly, Alex did.
"I mean it," Jamie said softly. "This?" He held up a napkin. "This is magic."
Something in Alex's chest cracked open.
The First Duet
It started with humming.
Jamie would play a few bars from one of the napkins, then pause, waiting for Alex to fill in the next part. At first, Alex could barely manage more than a whisper, their voice shaking.
But Jamie didn't laugh. Didn't rush them. Just waited, his fingers resting lightly on the guitar strings, his eyes patient.
Slowly, note by note, Alex began to sing.
Their voice was rough at first, unpracticed, but as the song went on, it grew stronger. Jamie matched them effortlessly, his guitar weaving around their melody like it had always belonged there.
When they finished, the air between them was electric.
Alex's hands were trembling.
Jamie was staring at them like he'd never seen them before.
"That," he said, his voice rough, "was incredible."
Alex shook their head. "It was okay."
"Alex." Jamie reached out, his fingers brushing their wrist—just the lightest touch, but it sent a shock up Alex's arm. "You're incredible."
Alex's breath caught.
And in that moment, something shifted.
The Confession
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, Jamie set his guitar aside.
"Why don't you perform?"
The question caught Alex off guard. They'd been lost in the quiet comfort of the afternoon, in the easy way their voice and Jamie's guitar fit together.
Alex shrugged, picking at the edge of a napkin. "Not really my thing."
Jamie studied them. "You're not scared of singing. I just heard you."
"It's different with you." The words slipped out before Alex could stop them.
Jamie went very still. "How?"
Alex hesitated, then sighed. "When I was twelve, I had a solo in the school concert. I practiced for months. But when I got on stage..." Their throat tightened at the memory. "I froze. Completely. Couldn't make a sound. Everyone laughed."
Jamie's expression darkened. "Kids are assholes."
Alex huffed a laugh. "Yeah, well. Never really got over it, I guess."
For a long moment, Jamie was quiet. Then...
"Play with me."
Alex blinked. "What?"
"At my next gig. Just one song." Jamie's eyes were bright, determined. "No one will laugh. I won't let them."
Alex's pulse skyrocketed. "I can't"
"You can." Jamie leaned closer. "And I'll be right there with you the whole time."
Alex wanted to say no. Knew they should say no.
But looking at Jamie—at the certainty in his eyes, the way he seemed to believe in them more than they believed in themselves
"Okay," Alex whispered.
Jamie's smile could have powered the sun.
The Almost-Kiss
It happened when Jamie walked Alex home.
They were standing outside Alex's apartment building, the streetlights flickering on one by one, when Jamie reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Alex's ear.
His fingers lingered.
Alex's heart stopped.
For a breathless moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them charged with something new. Something terrifying. Something wonderful.
Then a car honked down the street, and the spell broke.
Jamie cleared his throat, stepping back. "So. Gig's on Friday. You'll be there?"
Alex nodded, their voice gone.
Jamie smiled, soft and private, just for them. "Good."
And then he was gone, leaving Alex standing there, their skin still burning where he'd touched them, their heart full of music and something dangerously like hope.