Landon gently shook Amala's shoulder. "Amala," he whispered. "Wake up."
She stirred, a small, sleepy groan escaping her lips before her eyes fluttered open. She blinked, her gaze a little confused, and then she remembered. She sat up, her cheeks flushing slightly as she realized how close they were.
"Hey," Landon said softly. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"
"Oh, yeah, of course," she replied, her voice still thick with sleep. She got off the sofa and immediately headed for the small kitchen. "I'll go get started on breakfast."
Landon grabbed his phone from his hoodie pocket, seeing the endless stream of missed calls. "Hey," he called out to her. "If anyone named Rachel or Emma calls, can you answer it? Just tell them my location and ask them to bring me some fresh clothes."
Amala just nodded, a small smile on her face. "Got it," she said, already pulling out eggs from the refrigerator. She cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started whisking, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. She glanced over at the phone Landon had left on the counter, the screen still dark. She found herself questioning everything that had happened in the last few hours. Was it all just a dream? Had she gotten her hopes up over nothing? Was his promise to sign her just a moment of exhausted kindness, a celebrity's empty gesture? She was a struggling artist, and he was an international superstar. Could he really just hand over a career like that? Was she just another girl he'd met one drunken night?
She cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started whisking, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. She glanced over at the phone Landon had left on the counter, the screen still dark. She found herself questioning everything that had happened in the last few hours. Was it all just a dream? Had she gotten her hopes up over nothing? Was his promise to sign her just a moment of exhausted kindness, a celebrity's empty gesture? Her thoughts were abruptly shattered by the sharp, insistent ringing of the phone. It was Rachel. Amala nervously picked it up and answered. Before she could even say a single word, she heard Rachel's voice, a furious torrent of worry and frustration.
"Landon! Where are you? Why aren't you answering? I swear, if you don't say something in the next five seconds, I'm gonna hang up this phone and send out a search party. Your car is still at the hotel, this is so unlike you. What's wrong with you, making us worry like that?!"
"I'm sorry, this isn't Landon," Amala said, her voice a little shaky as she finally managed to interrupt. There was a sudden, jarring silence on the other end of the line. The panic was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp demand.
"Who is this?" Rachel snapped. "And why do you have his phone? Where is he?"
"My name is Amala," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "He's in my apartment. He's fine, he just fell asleep. But, his taking a bath right now." She hesitated for a moment. "He told me to tell you his location and that he needs some fresh clothes."
Rachel was silent for a long moment, the shock of the situation slowly dawning on her. "An apartment?" she finally said, the anger gone, replaced with sheer bewilderment. "He went to an apartment? And he's just... asleep? He's never done anything like this before. He's an indoor guy, and he just disappears after the biggest night of his life? I don't understand."
"He's okay," Amala repeated, her voice calmer now.
"Okay," Rachel said, her voice a mix of disbelief and relief. "Just... stay there. We're on our way. Don't let him leave."
"I doubt he'll leave," Amala said, a faint smile in her voice as she cracked another egg into the bowl. "We're about to have breakfast."
On the other end of the line, Rachel was left speechless. A breakfast? After a night of disappearing and a nationwide panic? The sheer ordinariness of the situation was completely baffling. "Just... just give me the location," Rachel finally managed to say, her voice strained. Amala calmly rattled off the street name, the apartment building, and the room number. "Room 32." Rachel quickly punched the address into her GPS. "It's about an hour drive," she said. "We're on our way."
Landon emerged from the bathroom forty minutes later, a fresh, clean scent clinging to him. The hot water had done little to soothe his inner turmoil, but it had at least washed away the grime of the city streets. He looked at Amala, who was flipping the omelet in the pan, a soft smile on her face. "Are you a mermaid or something?" she asked, a playful glint in her eyes. "You've been in there for a while. I actually thought you might never leave my bathroom."
Landon laughed, the sound rusty and tired. "I just had a lot to think about," he said honestly. The words felt heavy, but with her, it was easy to share.
"I'm just going to brush my teeth and wash my face," she said, her voice gentle. "But you're welcome to start without me."
"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "I'll wait."
Five minutes later, she returned, her face scrubbed clean and her hair pulled back. She sat down across from him, and they finally ate, the small apartment filled with laugher as they made jokes as they ate, a comfortable rhythm of conversation settling in. They talked about everything from their favorite TV shows to their worst first dates, a small, shared world they were building outside the chaos that had brought them together.
Just as he was telling her about a disastrous open mic night from his teenage years, a soft, tentative knock came from the door.
"Amala, it's Rachel," a muffled voice called from the hallway. Landon and Amala froze, their laughter dying in their throats. The two of them looked at each other, a silent, shared realization dawning in their eyes. They had completely forgotten. Rachel and Emma had arrived.
Landon and Amala looked at each other, the laughter and comfort of the morning evaporating in an instant. This was it. The real world had come knocking on the door of their small, temporary bubble. Landon took a deep breath, a look of tired resignation on his face. "Stay here," he said, getting up from the floor. He opened the door to find Rachel and Emma standing in the hallway, their expressions a mix of frantic relief and seething frustration. Rachel held a garment bag and a carry-on, while Emma clutched a large bag of coffee and a box of pastries.
"Landon! There you are!" Rachel exclaimed, relief flooding her voice as she shoved the bags into his arms. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been? The whole world thinks you've been kidnapped or had a breakdown after winning four AMAs!"
She finally stepped inside and stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes widened as she took in the small, cozy apartment. The coffee brewing, the half-eaten omelets on the table, and most importantly, Amala. "Who… who is this?" Emma whispered, her eyes fixed on Amala who was still sitting on the floor.
Landon just smiled. "Guys, this is Amala," he said, his voice calm and clear. "She's the reason you're not filing a missing person's report right now."
Landon looked at Amala. "Is it cool if they come in?" he asked, a silent apology in his eyes for the chaos he was bringing to her doorstep.
Amala nodded, a small, weary smile on her face. "Of course."
Rachel and Emma entered the small apartment, their initial shock giving way to a more pragmatic, "Mother Hen" demeanor. Rachel placed her bags on the floor and sat down on the sofa, gesturing for Emma to do the same. She crossed her arms, a serious look on her face. "Okay, Landon," Rachel began, her voice firm. "Start talking. What happened?"
Landon took a deep breath, looking from Rachel's worried face to Emma's equally concerned one. He started from the beginning. "After the awards, I went back to the hotel, but I couldn't sleep. So I called an Uber and went to a club." He paused, seeing the judgment on Rachel's face. "I know, I know. But I got bored after a few drinks and went out to walk around." He glanced at Amala, who was listening intently. "A few blocks away, I was walking down a street and heard a scream from an alley. It was Amala. She was cornered by three guys who were trying to rob her." His voice hardened slightly as he recounted the fight. "I stepped in to help her." He looked at Amala, who gave a small nod, confirming his story. "And that's how we met."
Emma, still looking skeptical, spoke up. "That doesn't explain why you didn't just come home after you helped her. You disappeared off the face of the earth, Landon. What happened after that?"
Amala, seeing the exhaustion on Landon's face, decided to answer for him. "Well, after he walked me home, I could see he was burdened. He just looked so tired and sad. I invited him in for a coffee, and our conversation just naturally took off."
Landon smiled at her, a silent thank you, and picked up the story. "Before I knew it, we were talking about music. She's incredibly talented, and she wasn't so sure about it. I told her what I thought, and one thing led to another. Before you know it, we ended up making a song together."
He gestured to the recording equipment still set up across the room, a microphone connected to the laptop on the small table. Rachel and Emma stared at the gear, their disbelief palpable.