Bernard's thumbs-up from the side of the bar felt like a gentle push. I felt the weight of his encouragement, but it only made the anxiety in my chest grow. The saxophone sat in my hands like a forgotten memory, cool and unfamiliar, even though it was once an extension of me.

Kz signaled to the band, and I heard the faint shift of instruments adjusting, the anticipation building in the room. As the first notes of the sax drifted into the air, I wasn't able to shake the feeling of vulnerability. But then, I begun to play. The sound of the sax filled the space, wrapping around me like a blanket, each note spilling out with more ease than I expected.

I focused on the music, my fingers remembering the keys, the rhythms. The crowd faded away, and it was just me and the instrument, my soul speaking through it. When Kz's voice joined in, something clicked. Her voice blended with the sax in perfect harmony. The lyrics of Sining by Dionela felt like they have been written for us, like she was singing straight to me.

I wasn't able to look at her at first, but I felt her there, the undeniable connection, even without words. When our eyes finally met across the stage, something passed between us. It been as though the music erased everything—the past, the fear—and what remained was just the two of us in that moment. For the first time in a long time, I hadn't felt the weight of everything I had been carrying.

The fear I've been holding onto... somewhere in the middle of the notes, it disappeared. I didn't known when I let it go, but the sound of the sax no longer felt like a painful reminder. It felt like an expression, my expression, something free.

As the song wound down, I heard Bernard talking to the regulars, his voice light, but I wasn't able to focus on that. The only thing on my mind was the way Kz looked at me. It wasn't just the crowd watching... it was her. And for the first time in a long time, I felt seen.

When the song ended, the applause was overwhelming, but it wasn't the clapping that stuck with me. It was the quiet—the way everything around me seemed to hum with a kind of possibility I haven't felt before. This... whatever this was between Kz and me... felt different. And I wasn't sure where it would go. I was afraid to find out.