The kitchen at the apartment had its own gravity, and tonight, it was centered entirely on the stove. The air was thick with the scent of garlic and simmering sauce—a warm, grounding contrast to the sharp architectural lines Kiran had been staring at all day on his tablet.
Pheet sat perched on the edge of the marble counter, his legs swinging idly. He watched Kiran move with a practiced, focused grace—a sharp contrast to the restless energy Pheet usually brought into a room.
"Open up," Kiran murmured, not even looking away from the pan as he brought a wooden spoon toward Pheet's face.
Pheet leaned forward, tasting the sauce with the seriousness of a food critic. "Mm. Needs more salt. Or maybe I'm just biased toward things that taste like effort."
Kiran huffed a small, exhausted laugh, pulling the spoon back. "It doesn't need salt, Pheet. You just want an excuse to keep tasting it while I try to finish this." He nudged a stack of blueprints and tablet screens further down the counter, away from the splashing oil. "I still have that project to wrap up before midnight. If I don't focus, the structural integrity of this imaginary building is going to be as shaky as your attention span."
"Hey, my attention span is focused exactly where it needs to be," Pheet grinned, reaching out to steal a chopped vegetable from the cutting board. "Right on the chef."
Later that night...
The apartment had grown quiet, but the lights hadn't gone out. Kiran was still hunched over the dining table, surrounded by digital renderings of support beams and floor plans. Across the room, Pheet was sprawled on the sofa with his guitar unplugged, his fingers ghosting over a F\#m to Bm transition. He was frustrated; the melody in his head was perfect, but his fingers were acting like they'd forgotten the map.
"Go to sleep, Pheet," Kiran said without looking up from his screen. "I can hear your brain whirring from here."
"I can't. If I sleep, the melody for the bridge will vanish into thin air," Pheet muttered, staring at the ceiling. "It's like a ghost. I have to catch it now or it's gone forever."
Kiran finally set his stylus down and rubbed his eyes. "Life goes on even if you miss one note, you know."
"Not this note," Pheet countered, sitting up and looking at Kiran. "This one feels... important. Like the suite to everything we've been playing." He paused, watching the way the desk lamp caught the tired lines of Kiran's face. "You coming to practice tomorrow? Jace and Rye already messaged the group chat. Jace wants to fix the second verse, and Rye... well, Rye just wants to hit things."
Kiran exhaled, a long, tired sound that ended in a nod. "I'll be there. My lecture isn't until the afternoon, and it's online. I can afford to watch you guys argue for a few hours."
The Next Morning
The routine kicked in at sunrise—a rhythmic, quiet dance they'd mastered over years. The sound of the kettle whistling and the clinking of cereal bowls filled the space. They didn't need words; the comfort was in the shared silence.
By 9:00 AM, they were pushing open the heavy, soundproof door to the practice room. The air inside smelled like stale coffee and old carpet, but to Pheet, it smelled like potential.
Jace was already there, meticulously tuning his bass with a focused scowl, while Rye was unsuccessfully trying to balance a drumstick on his nose.
"You're late," Jace said without looking up, though there was no real heat in his voice.
"Blame the chef," Pheet joked, tossing his guitar bag into the corner and immediately checking his pockets for a pick. "He insisted on a balanced breakfast. Now, are we actually going to play, or is Rye going to keep auditioning for the circus?"
Rye caught the drumstick and pointed it at Pheet. "Hey, it's called performance art. But yeah, let's go. I've had three espressos and I'm ready to break something."
Pheet strapped on his guitar, feeling the weight of it settle against him. He glanced at Kiran, who had found his usual spot in the corner with his tablet, before looking back at Jace and Rye. "Alright, let's take it from the top. I've got a new bridge. It's a bit selfish, it's a bit raw... but it's exactly what the song needs."