Lily's second song was quieter.
Not slower—just… closer.
Bobby stayed where he was, hands in his pockets, afraid that if he shifted his weight the moment would crack. The system hovered at the edge of his vision, translucent and patient, like it was listening too.
> Listening…
Emotional Resonance increasing.
Her voice wasn't technically perfect. He could hear where a vocal coach would stop her, where breath support wavered, where a producer would say do it again, but cleaner.
And yet—
His chest tightened.
That was the thing the industry never figured out how to quantify. The ache. The way a song could sound like a memory you didn't know you were carrying.
When she finished, Lily lowered the ukulele and laughed softly, almost embarrassed.
"Sorry," she said. "That one's kind of… unfinished."
Bobby shook his head. "It's not."
She raised an eyebrow. "You a musician or something?"
The system flickered.
> Lie Detected (Potential).
Honesty may unlock alternative path.
He ignored it.
"Yeah," he said carefully. "Something like that."
She studied him for a moment, as if weighing whether he was worth the truth. Then she nodded toward the empty space beside her crate.
"Sit, then. Musicians don't hover."
Bobby hesitated. The sidewalk was dirty. His jeans were expensive. Old instincts screamed about image, about cameras, about headlines.
He sat anyway.
The system updated.
> Quest Completed: Listen without interrupting
Reward Unlocked: Skill — Active Empathy (Passive)
Effect: Deeper understanding of emotional subtext in music.
He didn't feel different.
He just felt… more present.
"I'm Lily," she said, adjusting her grip on the ukulele. "I come out here most nights. Better acoustics than my apartment."
"Bobby," he replied.
She didn't react.
No widened eyes. No sudden excitement. No oh my God, you're—
Just Bobby.
"Nice to meet you," she said.
That shouldn't have mattered.
It did.
They talked in pieces.
About music first—always music. Lily told him she'd grown up singing in her room, then on buses, then wherever people would stop long enough to listen. She'd tried uploading covers, originals, everything. A few thousand views here. Nothing that stuck.
"I don't want to be famous," she said, staring down at her strings. "I just want my songs to live somewhere bigger than me."
The system reacted.
> Emotional Alignment Detected.
Harmony Sync — Locked (Conditions unmet).
Bobby looked away.
He thought about his last album. The meetings. The strategy. The way every track was engineered to perform rather than exist.
"What about you?" Lily asked. "You play?"
"Used to," he said.
It wasn't exactly a lie.
A car passed too close, music blaring. Lily waited for it to fade before speaking again.
"You ever feel like the louder everything gets, the harder it is to hear yourself?"
Bobby laughed—short, sharp. "Every day."
That did it.
> Mental Stability: -1
Reason: Unresolved Internal Conflict
He felt the drop like a chill.
Lily glanced at him. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he said automatically.
She didn't press. She just nodded, accepting the silence the way real musicians did.
After a while, she packed up. The night was thinning out, the crowd gone.
"Thanks for listening," she said. "Most people don't."
Bobby stood. "You should keep singing."
She smiled. "I plan to."
As she walked away, the system filled his vision one last time.
> New Long-Term Quest Initiated:
Help Lily Hart reach her voice's true potential.
Failure Condition:
Lose yourself in the process.
Bobby watched her disappear into the city.
For the first time in years, he wasn't thinking about his next release.
He was thinking about a streetlight, a ukulele—
and a sound he suddenly couldn't afford to lose.