I wasn't sure when I fell asleep, but I woke up on the couch with a fleece blanket over me and sunlight radiating through the curtains of Jess’s living room. Someone must have put the blanket over me after I passed out.

The Keurig was sputtering in the kitchen, the bowls and pot from the mac and cheese last night cleaned and drying on the dish rack. I could hear Bastien singing something soft, his voice was deep and full, and Jess shuffling around, probably looking for her phone and blaming the universe for mornings. I envied Bastien's boundless energy, and in truth, loathed mornings as much as Jess.

I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My notebook was on the floor, still open to the page where I'd scrawled a verse before nodding off:

I found my once in a lifetime, no one can take it away...

I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed it felt to have those words in the open. What if someone really could take it all away? Like Dean… I felt in my pocket and grabbed onto the hackysack to make sure it was still there.

Bastien appeared with a Dragonball-Z mug, most likely his and not Jess's, and handed it to me. “Coffee, no cream, right? Just made it.”

I smiled, sleepy and grateful. “Thanks.”

Jess sat down on the couch beside me, one knee tucked under her. “You should record that one.”

I hesitated. “It’s not finished.”

“So? It'll never be finished if you leave it on the page. Then it's just a poem.” She said it lightly, but the meaning landed.

Bastien set his own mug down and crossed the room to his laptop, which was already plugged into a battered audio interface and their “studio mic,” a hand-me-down condenser duct-taped to a repurposed camera tripod. “Let’s just try it. No pressure. No posting. Just… record it. For you.”

I looked between them. Jess gave me an encouraging nod.

I stood up before I could talk myself out of it. That song wasn’t finished, but there was one I thought I could get through without embarrassing myself. One I wrote about the only girlfriend I had, the one who cheated on me with the soccer captain. The song Dean said “slaps hard.” Back when I could still find anger in heartbreak instead of just loss.

They cleared space, dimmed the overhead lights, and threw the fleece blanket over the window to muffle the sound. Bastien adjusted the levels with practiced care, and Jess handed me my guitar with an encouraging smile.

I sat in front of the mic. It wasn’t a stage, but it felt like one. I took a breath, then another. And then I played.

The song wasn’t perfect; the second verse still needed a better rhyme, and I hit one note a little flat, but it didn’t matter. It was raw, honest, stitched together from memories and emotions I’d tried to forget, but still lingered. My voice was steady. I let the words carry.

When the last chord faded, nobody said anything for a moment.

Then Jess whispered, “Holy shit. Someone did you dirty.”

Bastien spun slowly in his chair. “Dude, that was really good.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. My hands were shaking, but not from fear this time. It felt more like adrenaline. Like I just ran the 800 meter and pushed through to the end.

Bastien clicked save on the file and looked up. “You want to upload it?”

The question landed like a soft echo in the room. I didn’t answer right away. I just stared at the screen, the waveform still pulsing faintly, like it was alive.

“I don’t know,” I said, honestly.

Jess squeezed my shoulder. “You don’t have to. But if you ever want to… we’ll be right here.”

I nodded slowly, heart full and aching. I didn’t feel ready. Not yet. For now, in this space, with Bastien and Jess, no one could take it away. But if I let it out to the world...

But maybe next time. Maybe tomorrow.