The midday sun falls over a familiar building, and muffled instrument sounds leak from inside.
In one of the bedrooms, cables and guitar picks are scattered across the floor; the walls are plastered with posters of musicians.
By the door, a small desk with an old computer holds several board games.
Beside the desk, a small white cabinet sits with a record player on top. At its base, a plain box holds several records by famous artists.
Sitting on a plain bed, a black-haired boy rests a guitar on his thigh and plucks a few notes while tuning the strings.
A short distance away, sunk into a bean bag, a brown-haired girl keeps a steady groove on her bass, drawing an upbeat melody into the room.
"Alright," the boy said. "I'm done tuning. Ready to start?"
The girl, still a little sulky from the wait, scoffed.
"Took you long enough." She stuck out her lower lip. "You start—I'll follow your lead."
At her signal, he simply began to play.
His right hand set a steady, deliberate rhythm, the pick gliding across the strings. His left hand followed with precise movements, adjusting the tone with calculated timing.
The girl paused for a moment, eyes closed, listening to the melody as her hands found the bass.
With a few deep notes, she began to shape a melody of her own.
Her fingers slid freely across the strings, forming a loose, fluid rhythm—one that seemed to challenge the boy's methodical tempo entirely.
And yet, when the two melodies met, they blended into a quiet, beautiful harmony.
The exchange continued for another minute before a knock sounded at the door.
"Kris, can I come in?"
"Sure, Dad."
The door opened just enough for Jesse to lean inside, his expression slightly embarrassed.
"Sorry to interrupt you guys," he said with a quiet laugh.
Rose smiled, quick to put him at ease.
"No problem, Mr. Jesse."
"I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out now," he continued. "If you two end up leaving, don't forget to lock the door."
Kris set the guitar down on the bed.
"Alright. Where are you going, by the way?"
"Well…" Jesse began, leaning lightly against the doorframe.
"I got a call from work. Apparently something went wrong, and the higher-ups aren't too happy about it."
"I see," Kris said, his eyes still on his father. "Well, good luck, Dad. I hope everything turns out alright."
"Thanks, Kris. See you later, Rose."
"See you, Mr. Jesse. Good luck!"
"Thanks," he said with a small smile, closing the door behind him.
After that, Rose stood up from the bean bag, slipping the strap off her shoulders before resting the bass on its stand.
"So…" she said, a hint of a smile on her face. "Wanna go out for a bit?"
"Already?" Kris replied with a sideways smile. "Did my dad's comment give you an idea?"
"Boooh," she scoffed. "I already felt like going out."
He let out a short laugh as he got up from the bed.
"Alright, alright. Where are we going?"
"If I already knew," she said, "I wouldn't be asking you to go out."
Kris stared at her for a moment, genuinely stunned, before shooing her away with a wave of his hand.
"Alright, out you go. I need to change."
"Ooooh, what's that, princess?" she teased with a mischievous grin. "Gotta get all dressed up just to go out?"
"I know you well enough to know this isn't going to be just going out."
After Kris changed, the two of them stepped out of the building.
"Don't forget to lock the door, alright?" Rose said with a mischievous smile.
"Of course I won't."
He locked the door behind them, then headed down the stairs beside her as they set off down the street.
After a while, Rose glanced sideways at Kris.
"So… got any plans for your birthday?"
Right. I turn eighteen in a few weeks.
"Nah," he said. "Why? What do you have in mind?"
"How about we go out?"
Déjà vu?
"Aren't we already going out?"
She deflated a little, then huffed in frustration.
"You know what I meant!"
He shot back with a sly smile.
"And did you actually plan something this time?"
"Of course I did!" she replied. "I've got it all planned, from start to finish."
Kris blinked, genuinely surprised.
"Wow. Now that is new."
At that, Rose puffed out her chest.
"Please. When have I ever half-planned anything?"
"You really want me to answer that?"
"…"
She froze for a second—then her eyes lit up as she spotted a cafe ahead.
"Hey, let's go to the cafe!"
And before he could respond, she took off toward the building.
With a small smile, Kris followed her inside the café.
Inside, the noise of the street was softened by calm music and the low murmur of other customers.
The scent of coffee lingered in the air, giving the place a gentle warmth that made it easy to feel at ease.
Kris and Rose, having already placed their orders, sat at a table near the back, by the window.
She savored a slice of cake while he sipped a simple cappuccino, the two of them watching the city drift by outside.
Turning his gaze toward her, Kris asked,
"So… what have you been planning?"
She frowned slightly at the question before replying,
"Huh? Like I'd tell you!"
"So it's a surprise date, huh?"
"I never said it was a date," she shot back, a faint blush creeping onto her face.
He let out a soft snort.
"Pfft. By the end of the day, you're going to let something slip."
"Ha! Keep dreaming."
Just then, the bell above the door chimed.
Both of them glanced over—and froze.
A woman had stepped inside, ordered a cup of coffee, and taken a seat.
Moments later, three men followed her through the door, sitting down at the same table.
But that wasn't what caught their attention.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Rose asked, her eyes slightly widened.
"How could I not?"
The woman at the table had a faint blue tint to her skin.
The men with her were no less strange—each of them bearing colors no human should have: green, red, and pink.
"Wow," she said, still stunned. "I… really need to use the bathroom after seeing that. Can you take care of the bill?"
"Sure. I'll wait for you," Kris replied, still glancing sideways at the group as he stood up.
As he approached the counter, he noticed the cashier watching a news report on a small TV beside the register.
The footage showed a city buried under snow, while a reporter spoke about an unidentified man wearing a crown—someone who had frozen everything in his path.
Is something like that even possible? Kris wondered, a faint chill running through him, before briefly shifting his gaze back to the group—the woman now seated at the table.
"Hello, how can I help you?" the cashier asked.
"Oh—right," he said. "I'm ready to pay."
After paying, Rose finished using the bathroom and joined him by the door.
It seemed the strange group had argued while she was gone; by the time Kris looked again, they had split up and gone their separate ways.
With both events weighing on his mind, a quiet unease settled in.
What is really going on?