The ramen place is loud.
Steam fogs the windows. Conversations overlap. Chopsticks clink against ceramic bowls. The smell of broth and spice wraps around everything.
It's smaller than I expected.
Which means—
Of course the only open seat is next to Zane.
He doesn't comment.
He just slides over slightly to make space.
Too easily.
Too comfortably.
His friends are already halfway through their drinks.
"Finally," says a girl with short brown hair and matching eyes. "You brought the mystery collaborator."
"This is Sunny," Zane says, casual.
Like saying my name isn't doing something strange to my nervous system.
brown-hair grins. "I'm Mira."
The guy beside her lifts his bowl slightly in greeting. "Eli."
"And that's Jace," Mira adds, pointing to a tall guy scrolling on his phone. "He only looks uninterested."
"I am uninterested," Jace says without looking up.
They all laugh.
I relax a little.
Zane nudges a menu toward me. "You eat spicy?"
"Moderately."
"Dangerous answer."
"I'm not fragile."
He raises an eyebrow but doesn't push.
The conversation flows easily around me at first.
Tour stories.
Local venues.
Someone mentions Aetheridge University's annual EGO tournament and how the finals last year were "insane."
"Echora's theme was blasting through the stadium," Eli says. "You could hear it from outside."
"Echora?" I ask before I can stop myself.
Zane glances at me. "You don't follow pop?"
"I follow… things."
He smirks slightly.
Mira leans in. "EGO basically owns this city. Game aesthetics, fashion, music — it's all bleeding into each other."
"That's why I want to study game design," she adds proudly. "Character visuals are the future."
Just like Amelia, huh?
That makes sense somehow.
Zane watches the exchange quietly.
"So you're from here?" I ask him.
He nods once. "Born here. High school too."
"With Axel."
"With Axel."
There's a softness in that repetition.
"This is home base," he adds.
The words land differently.
Home base.
Not just touring star.
Not just stage lights.
He belongs here too.
Our bowls arrive.
Steam curls up between us.
I try not to burn my tongue immediately.
Fail.
He notices.
Of course he does.
"Careful, sunshine."
My brain flickers again.
Across the table, Jace finally looks up from his phone.
"So Euphony Trio's collaborating with the big Zanesteir, huh?"
I choke slightly.
"Zanesteir?" I repeat.
"It stuck in high school," Eli says. "Long story."
"It did not stick," Zane mutters.
"It absolutely did."
Mira smirks. "Big Zane Calder lowering himself to group projects."
"Collaboration," Zane corrects calmly.
"Sure," Eli says. "So you managed to string up one of the two ladies already?"
The air shifts.
My chopsticks freeze mid-air.
Zane doesn't laugh.
Doesn't smirk.
Doesn't lean into it.
He sets his bowl down carefully.
"I don't string people up."
Mira raises an eyebrow. "Since when?"
"Since I grew up."
The table goes quiet for half a second.
It's subtle.
But real.
He doesn't look at me when he says it.
Which somehow makes it more honest.
Eli shrugs. "Tour life, man."
"Tour life is loud," Zane replies evenly. "Doesn't mean it's meaningful."
I stare at my ramen like it holds answers.
My heart is doing something complicated.
Mira glances at me.
Then back at him.
Interesting.
The conversation shifts again.
Safer topics.
Local venues.
Upcoming drops.
Jace complains about losing rank in EGO because "random teammates are useless."
I find myself laughing more than I expected.
Zane leans closer occasionally to make sure I can hear over the noise.
His shoulder brushes mine once.
Just once.
But it's enough.
When the bill comes, he reaches for it automatically.
Mira rolls her eyes. "You're insufferable."
"I'm generous."
"You're dramatic."
"Accurate."
Outside, the night air is cooler.
The city hums around us.
His friends peel off one by one.
"Don't corrupt her," Mira calls over her shoulder.
"Define corrupt," Zane replies.
She just laughs.
And then it's just us.
Walking side by side.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"You got quiet for a second in there."
"I was listening."
He studies me.
"You don't have to compete with anyone."
"I wasn't."
He hums like he doesn't quite believe me.
"I'm not… that guy anymore," he says casually, but not really casually.
"I didn't think you were."
He glances at me then.
Longer than necessary.
"You sure?"
I nod.
Because I am.
Because he didn't laugh at the joke.
Because he didn't let it slide.
Because he chose his words carefully.
We stop at a crosswalk.
The light turns red.
City glow reflecting faintly in his eyes.
"I like that you came," he says.
My heart does the drop-then-race thing again.
"I almost didn't."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
He smiles slightly.
"I'm glad you did."
The light turns green.
We cross.
And for the first time since this started—
I don't feel small walking beside him.