Ryan checked his phone: 9:30 p.m.
He hopped into his K3 and drove straight to his old rundown apartment complex, the kind of place where shadows clung to every corner. Parking in the dim, grimy lot, he felt a twinge of unease—hope no one messes with the car—but figured a quick visit wouldn't tempt fate.
He climbed the creaky stairs to Unit 702 and knocked. Jamal swung the door open, his face lighting up.
"Yo, what's good? You back in the hood?" Jamal hollered over his shoulder, "Kylie, check who's here!"
Kylie bounced out of her room, her grin wide as she saw Ryan. "No way!" she said, pulling him into a quick hug. Ryan's smile matched hers—this was his first time back at Unit 702 since moving out, and the familiarity hit hard.
Once inside, he didn't waste time. "Actually, Kylie, I need a favor. I need to cut a quick demo."
"A demo?" she asked, curious.
"Yeah. I wrote a new song. It's for Selena Hartley. I need a rough version to send over."
