Penelope looked at Nolan, as he gestured for her to join him on the couch. Was this some kind of trick? To make her open up, and then use it against her, the way that she had planned to use information against him?

“C’mon, Penny,” he coaxed. “I really do want to know you better. You were right at the bar about one thing—we haven’t really gotten to know each other. And to be honest…I do know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?” said Penelope, as she took a cautious step towards him.

“You asked if I’ve ever felt small. And the answer is yeah, I have,” Nolan said sincerely.

“You’re high,” said Penelope, dismissively. “I mean look at you, you have everything…charm, talent, good looks,” she blushed, embarrassed that she said it out loud.

“I’m not that high,” he said, smiling. “Let’s go back to the part about my good looks—-”

“Let’s go back to the part about you feeling small,” Penelope said, cutting him off. “What did you actually mean by that?” She finally approached him and sat on the far end of the couch which, for a loveseat, was not that far.

“My parents…they’re not rodeo clowns,” Nolan said, as she was getting comfortable.

Penelope feigned a look of shock. “You don’t say!”

“They’re accomplished. Really accomplished. My mom is this kick ass attorney and my dad is in mergers and acquisitions. I think they both assumed that I would grow up and follow in at least one of their footsteps.” Nolan looked away from Penelope. “I tried, I really did. But music…it was just always what I loved the most.”

“Surely your parents understand that?” asked Penelope gently.

Nolan let out a bitter laugh. “Not exactly. When I told them I wanted to pursue it full-time, like for a career, they told me they’d think about it. For a week or two, I had real hope that they’d stand behind me. And then my dad hosted this super fancy dinner party for people at work. This guy he worked with asked when I’d start interning, so I said that I was a musician. Everyone got really quiet…and instead of backing me up, my dad said ‘music is for dilettantes and children.’ My mom said nothing. I was hurt, obviously. So I went upstairs to pack my stuff that night. They cut me off. And I haven’t talked to them in months.”

Penelope took this in. Did she actually feel sorry for Nolan?

“That sounds really hard,” she said, putting a hand on his knee for comfort. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t talk to my mom.”

“Yeah, I miss them,” Nolan said, looking at his guitar. “But I can’t let it stop me. When I make it, it’ll all be worth it.”

“Have they ever heard you play?” asked Penelope. “Nolan, you’re really good.”

“Not yet,” he said, sighing. “I hope someday. I’m guessing you know what that’s like, to push your own ambition ahead, even if you don’t have a lot of support.”

Nolan and Penelope looked at each other in a moment of silent understanding. Penelope realized her hand was still resting on Nolan’s knee and she immediately removed it, breaking the silence.

“Anyway,” Nolan said, changing the subject. “The date with Marcus was good? He does seem like a decent dude.”

“Yeah, it was,” said Penelope, nodding. She decided to leave it at that.

“But…?” Nolan elbowed her.

“I had this, like, moment where I thought I saw my ex. It made me wonder if I’m ready for a new relationship. I just don’t know if I’m good at picking guys,” Penelope said, surprised at her own honesty. “Even if they seem decent, like Marcus. He even offered to introduce me to his roommate, who works at this awesome firm I would kill to get in with.”

“Penny, I think you should give it another date before you make any decisions,” Nolan said, now reaching out his hand to her knee. “Take it slow. And at the least…get that intro!”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” said Penelope. And then she felt a yawn coming on. “You know, Nolan, this has been surprisingly…nice…but I’m wiped. I’m gonna head to bed. Turn the lights off, okay? I can’t deal with another night of endless fluorescence.”

She hopped off the couch, noticing Nolan wasn’t saying anything. “Nolan? You good?”

“So in the spirit of honesty,” Nolan said, pausing. Penelope was nervous about where this conversation might be headed next.

“Yes…?” she said, waiting for his truthful moment.

Nolan took a breath. “When I was a kid, my mom and dad both used to work late. They bought me this nightlight so I wouldn’t feel alone if it was bedtime and they couldn’t be there. I guess I got a little too attached…I’m really not good with the dark. I need light to sleep.”

At first, Penelope thought it was another joke, or at least a straight up lie, like the rodeo clown bit. But she could see Nolan was deadly serious. And even a little embarrassed. She softened.

“Well, if the lights are going to be on, I might as well try to get some work done,” she said with a small smile.

Nolan returned her smile, picking up his guitar. “In that case, maybe we can both jam.”

Penelope changed into sweats and grabbed her laptop from her bedroom. “Ok if I hang with you on the couch?” she asked, returning.

“Sure thing,” he said, making room.

Soon, Nolan was softly strumming while Penelope was clicking away on her keyboard. The symphony of both of their work went late into the night.

And the next thing she knew, Penelope was drifting to sleep, stretched out on the couch, the sound of Nolan’s soft voice carrying over into her dreams—even though all of the lights were still on.