The morning sun filtered through Zane's penthouse windows — a soft golden wash over the room. Sunny stirred first, eyes fluttering open as she registered the unfamiliar ceiling... and the arm draped securely around her waist.
She blushed at the memory of the night before — not from regret, but disbelief. She had stayed. All night. In Zane's bed.
But it didn't feel scary.
It felt right.
She turned slowly, watching him breathe, messy hair tousled over his forehead. He looked so... peaceful. Different from the charismatic, cocky performer he was onstage. This was Zane, off the record. Unfiltered. And all hers.
A small smile tugged at her lips. "I never thought I'd be this girl..."And yet, here she was — warm, safe, and tangled up in someone who made her feel seen.
He stirred not long after, sleep-heavy eyes cracking open, already smiling."Good morning, Sunshine."
---
Zane's hoodie swallowed her — a soft, oversized blanket of fabric that draped off one shoulder and covered her hands.
He whistled low when she walked into the kitchen. "You're going to kill me looking like that."Sunny rolled her eyes, but her pink cheeks betrayed her.
They decided on pancakes — "basic," Zane teased, "but in a hot couple kind of way."
Cooking with Zane wasn't efficient. It was loud, playful, and filled with floury handprints, hip bumps, and teasing kisses. He hugged her from behind while she stirred the batter, pressing his cheek against her shoulder.
When she burned the first pancake, she flailed a little. "Ugh — I messed up—"
Zane snatched it with dramatic flair. "Correction: I get the first sacrifice.""Zane, it's burnt—""Tastes like love," he grinned, chomping down with a wink.Sunny groaned, hiding her face in the hoodie sleeve, which only made him laugh harder.
---
The syrup was a little too sweet, a little too sticky, and Zane had definitely overdone it on his second pancake. But neither of them cared.
Sunny sat on the marble counter, legs swinging gently, plate in her lap. Zane leaned against the kitchen island, bare feet planted casually on the tile, still wearing the rumpled shirt from the night before. His hair was a mess. Her hoodie sleeves covered her hands. Everything felt unpolished… and strangely perfect.
Between bites, their playful chatter began to soften, like a song fading into its final notes.
Sunny glanced down at her plate, syrup pooling at the edges, then looked up at him — her voice quiet.
"This is… our first night together."
She'd stayed over at friends' places before. With Laura during late-night editing sessions. She used to have sleep overs with Amelia. At Axel's when they pulled long rehearsals and she ended up falling asleep on the couch. But this… this was different.
Zane stilled. His hand, holding his fork, hovered in the air for a second before he gently set it down.
He tilted his head slightly, curiosity soft in his eyes."And?"
She hesitated, cheeks flushing just a little under his gaze.
"And… I didn't think I'd feel this comfortable."
Zane's expression shifted — less amused, more sincere. He pushed his plate aside, stepped closer, and leaned in against the counter beside her.
"I've had people crash here before," he said softly, "but I've never woken up wishing they'd stay longer."
Sunny glanced at him, surprised. The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard.
"I didn't think I could trust someone this much," she admitted.
He looked at her then — truly looked — before reaching out to brush a stray crumb off her cheek with his thumb.
"I'll give you every reason to keep trusting me," he said. And this time, he didn't grin. He meant it.
Her eyes shimmered, not quite tearing up, but close.
And then he leaned in and kissed her, slow and warm, the way morning sunlight creeps in through half-closed curtains — quietly, tenderly, promising more.
---
Sunny had promised to help Amelia out today — something about her dad needing extra hands with "the studio cleanup." Turned out, Amelia's dad, Mr. Villanova, owned a private photography and product showroom studio tucked into one of the side wings of their sprawling villa. He occasionally used it for brand shoots, family portraits, or cataloging his growing collection of vintage film cameras — which were, in his words, "both historical treasures and dust magnets."
Sunny didn't entirely know what she'd signed up for — she thought she was tagging along to hand Amelia tools, maybe hold a reflector. Instead, she found herself carefully helping to catalog and clean delicate camera equipment from the '60s while Amelia wiped down the shelving.
"You said this was going to be light work," Sunny muttered with a playful groan, brushing dust off her sleeves.
"You said you wanted fresh pastries," Amelia grinned, unbothered, pulling her curls into a bun. "We have a deal."
---
The real reward for their effort?Amelia's mom's fresh lemon lavender scones — soft, buttery, with the faintest floral glaze. They were already cooling on the marble countertop when the girls came in from the back studio, their sleeves dusty and hands smelling like lens cleaner.
Sunny sat at the island counter while Mrs. Villanova poured them homemade peach iced tea in tall glasses. The kitchen smelled like vanilla and rosemary. It was warm. Safe.
Despite their wealth — the villa was airy, with tall windows and a grand piano in the hallway — Sunny felt oddly at ease here. It wasn't showy. It felt lived in. Amelia's parents were clearly proud of their daughter, doting in that classic but good-natured way.
Amelia, now 20, still lived at home — and made no apologies for it.
"I'm not spending money on rent when I can study in peace here," she'd told Sunny. "No study loans. No roommates stealing my oat milk."
She was currently in her second year of Communication Design and Digital Branding. It made sense — Amelia was stylish, had a sharp visual eye, and talked like she was already a creative director in the making.
As they ate scones, Mr. Villanova poked his head into the kitchen, waving a thank-you to Sunny.
"Couldn't have done it without you, Sunbeam," he said.
Sunny blinked. "You know my username?"
"Amelia shows us all your music videos. Big fans."
Amelia rolled her eyes but smiled.
Sunny flushed a bit. Not many parents knew her like that.
---
Later, as they sat in Amelia's room — messy, cozy, with posters, magazine clippings, and half-sketched fashion designs taped to the walls — Amelia flopped back on her bed with a mischievous grin.
"So. You and Mr. Superstar," she started, her voice sing-songy. One perfectly plucked brow arched in anticipation. "Don't tell me you stayed over."
Sunny, mid-sip of iced tea, nearly choked. She quickly set the glass down and buried her face into the nearest pillow.
Amelia gasped, delighted. "Oh my god, you did!"
Sunny mumbled something unintelligible into the pillow. That only made Amelia lean in closer, practically vibrating.
"You did! You totally did! I knew it!" She kicked her heels against the mattress like an overexcited middle schooler. "Was it romantic? Was it like, movie-scene romantic? Did he light candles? Wait—was there music? Tell me everything!"
Sunny let out a strangled noise and lobbed the pillow directly at Amelia's face.
"Agh—hey!"
That was the only warning Amelia got before the second pillow hit her square in the stomach. In an instant, it devolved into chaos. Pillows flew. Laughter erupted. Amelia shrieked as she fell back, Sunny finally lifting her head from her hiding spot, flushed pink but giggling uncontrollably.
It was like being fourteen again — except now, they were older, wiser, and had actual stories to tell.
Eventually, the pillow fight calmed down. Amelia collapsed against her bedframe, panting and laughing. Sunny leaned back against the wall, catching her breath, brushing hair from her flushed cheeks.
Amelia smiled. A softer kind of smile this time.
"No but seriously," she said, voice quieting. "I'm happy for you."
Sunny looked over, touched.
Amelia added with a wink, "Although… I did call it."
Sunny groaned, covering her face again."You're impossible."
"And right." Amelia shot her finger guns.
---
Amelia finally flopped fully onto her bed, arms spread like a starfish. Sunny sat beside her, fiddling with the hem of her skirt, the laughter fading into a quiet hum between them.
A gentle breeze came in through the cracked window, rustling a fashion sketch pinned above Amelia's desk. For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then Sunny broke the silence.
"…I love him."
Amelia turned her head slowly, eyebrows lifting.
Sunny was staring down at her hands. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but each word carried weight.
"I didn't think I'd fall this hard," she continued, "but I did. It's different with him. It's like… everything clicks. He understands me, he listens, and—when I'm with him, it feels like I'm finally allowed to be myself. Not the curated version. Just… me."
She gave a shaky smile, blinking a little faster than usual. Amelia sat up gently, listening.
"But the concert's in two weeks." Sunny's voice cracked just slightly. "And after that… the contract ends. He'll leave. He has other projects, other places to be, and I know he means it when he says he'll visit, but…"
She exhaled. "I've never done long distance. I don't know if I can handle it. Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn."
Amelia was quiet for a moment, taking it in.
Then she reached over and rested a hand on Sunny's arm.
"Sunny…" she said softly. "Of course it scares you. That's how you know it matters."
Sunny looked up at her, eyes glassy but not crying.
"I don't want to lose this," she admitted.
"You won't," Amelia said. "I've seen the way he looks at you. He's not going anywhere unless you tell him to. And yeah, long distance sucks. But it's not about the miles—it's about the choice. If you both keep choosing each other… you'll find a way."
Sunny looked down again, lips pressed into a line.
"And if you ever need me," Amelia added, giving her a little nudge, "I'll be here. Whether it's for advice, a distraction, or just a stupid pillow fight."
That finally earned a small laugh from Sunny. She leaned sideways and let her head rest lightly against Amelia's shoulder.
"…Thanks," she said quietly.
Amelia tilted her head toward hers. "Anytime."
---
Sunny, still curled slightly against Amelia's shoulder, let the silence linger for a beat longer. Then, softly:
"…What about you, Amelia?"
Amelia blinked, glancing down at her. "Hm?"
Sunny sat up a little, her expression gentler now. "How are you holding up? I know we haven't really talked about it since… everything with Leo."
The name hung in the air. It wasn't sharp anymore — just a dull memory, smoothed over by time.
"I didn't want to push," Sunny added. "But maybe… you're ready?"
Amelia exhaled slowly, leaning back against the headboard. Her gaze wandered to the ceiling.
"…It's weird," she admitted. "For the longest time, I thought I wasn't allowed to be upset. Like… if someone cheats on you, you're supposed to be mad, right? Move on, burn their hoodie, post a fire selfie and never look back." She gave a wry smile. "But I wasn't mad. I was… wrecked."
Sunny listened quietly, her fingers fidgeting in her lap.
"I think it was the betrayal more than the person," Amelia continued. "Leo wasn't perfect, but I trusted him. I really thought he saw me. And then one day, it was just—over. And I didn't see it coming. I blamed myself for a while. Wondered if I was boring. If I wasn't enough."
Her voice faltered just slightly. "But I'm starting to see now… it wasn't about me. It was about him. And what he lacked."
Sunny reached over and gently touched Amelia's hand.
Amelia gave a small, tired smile. "So yeah… I'm okay now. Not perfect. Still a little scared of letting anyone in again. But I'm starting to feel like myself. And talking to you? It helps more than you think."
Sunny squeezed her hand. "You are more than enough, Amelia."
"Don't make me cry, I swear—" Amelia said, half-laughing, blinking rapidly.
"I mean it," Sunny replied, softer now. "You're one of the strongest people I know. You were there for me when I didn't even know how to ask. So if you ever need to fall apart a little… I've got you."
Amelia wiped her eye with a dramatic sniff. "You're gonna make me ruin my eyeliner."
Sunny smiled. "It's worth it."
---
The sun was still bright when Sunny and Amelia left the villa, arms linked and laughing about something unimportant. They had time to kill — no rehearsals, no deadlines, just the afternoon. Amelia had mentioned she needed a new carry-on suitcase for an upcoming student trip, and Sunny had agreed to tag along.
It was easy. Familiar. Smoothies in hand, they wandered through store after store, bickering about sunglasses and rating the most absurd shoes they could find.
Until Amelia stopped mid-step.
Sunny almost bumped into her. "What—?"
Her eyes followed Amelia's stare, and—
Zane.
He was walking with a group of people — familiar faces from his music circle, maybe some backup dancers or mutual friends from his label. Sunny relaxed a little. He looked chill, laughing, hoodie sleeves pushed up. Her Zane.
But one girl caught Amelia's eye — not just walking beside him, but laughing too hard, leaning in too close, brushing her fingers along his forearm.
"Okay," Amelia said slowly, "who the hell is that?"
Sunny blinked, confused. "I don't know? A friend? Maybe someone from his team?"
"Mmhmm," Amelia said, clearly not convinced. "You're telling me she needs to whisper in his ear like that?"
Sunny rolled her eyes with a smile. "You're being ridiculous. He's allowed to have friends. I trust him."
"Yeah well, I trusted someone too," Amelia muttered, eyes narrowing as she tracked their movement across the plaza.
Sunny turned toward a shop window. "Okay, but Zane's not Leo. Come on. Let's go into this one."
"You go," Amelia said, pulling out her phone. "I'll catch up."
Sunny sighed, shooting her a really? look over her shoulder as she stepped into the boutique.
---
Cue the dramatic background music — in Amelia's head, at least.
---
She slipped on her oversized sunglasses like a spy preparing for a mission. "Target acquired," she whispered, ducking behind a potted fern outside the boutique.
She snapped a selfie over her shoulder, capturing Sunny browsing inside the store, blissfully unaware. The caption practically wrote itself:"Shopping with the oblivious girlfriend 🙄"Sent to no one. Just for effect. Just to cope.
She tiptoed along the storefront's edge, smoothie clenched like a walkie-talkie. Her heels clacked once on the tile — she winced, then kicked them off, carrying them like gear. This was war.
Click. A peep over the corner. There they were.
The café.Zane and his entourage were laughing, half-finished drinks and sunglasses scattered across the table. And her. The Girl. Sitting just a little too close. Whispering something in Zane's ear that made him smirk — his head tilted toward her, just enough to make Amelia fume.
She gasped. "Oh, you did not just flick his sleeve like that."
From her hiding spot behind a decorative pillar, she watched Zane casually lean back. The group seemed to be wrapping up — laughter dying down, people standing. She crouched lower, peeking around as they parted ways.
Zane stood with her.
They didn't follow the others. Instead, they lingered by the railing of the outdoor café, city noise buzzing softly beneath their feet.
Amelia moved to a better angle — crouching between two parked bikes, smoothie gripped like a grenade. Her heart thudded with suspicion.
The girl reached for Zane's wrist.
Zane didn't pull away — but he didn't smile, either. His brows furrowed. She said something — soft, probably meaningful. His body stiffened, unsure.
Amelia's eyes widened.
Then — the girl stepped closer, her hand rising to brush Zane's cheek. It lingered, and he didn't move. A flicker of something passed between them — history? Regret? Familiarity?
Amelia stood there, frozen in disbelief.
And then —She kissed him.
Not a quick peck. Not innocent. Her hand still on his cheek, the kiss lingering just long enough for Amelia's stomach to drop.
"Oh my GOD."
She staggered back a step, knocking over a bike with a sharp clatter. Her smoothie nearly slipped from her hands. She grabbed her phone, fumbling to unlock it.
Zane. Zane just got kissed. By her.
And Sunny — Sunny! Inside the boutique right now, completely unaware.
Her first instinct was fury.Her second — heartbreak.And her third?
She didn't know yet.But one thing was certain — that was not just a friendly moment.
And the worst part?
Zane didn't push her away.
---
She stood there, behind the row of parked bikes, heart pounding in her chest like a war drum.
Her thumb hovered over her phone.
Text Sunny?No. No, that would wreck her. A bomb to the chest with no warning.Call her over?She'd crumble on sight. Not fair.
Amelia stared at the screen, teeth clenched. She could see Sunny now — just inside the boutique, holding up a frilly skirt to her reflection. Smiling.
God. She looked so happy. She had no idea.
Amelia lowered the phone. Hands shaking slightly.
"Should I really be the one to tell her?"She didn't want to be the bearer of heartbreak. Not again. Not for someone like Sunny, who trusted so deeply it hurt.
But then again — if she didn't step in now, who would? Let Zane get away with it? With that... girl?
No.She wasn't going to sit back and let her best friend be blindsided.
Amelia took a breath, set her smoothie down, and stood up.Straightened her top. Brushed her hair back. War face on.
She stepped out from behind the row of bikes and strode directly toward them.
Zane saw her first.
His eyes widened.
His whole body tensed — panic flashing through his expression like a lightning bolt. The girl beside him turned slowly, confused by his sudden shift in energy.
Amelia didn't wait. She stepped right between them, expression cool but cutting. Arms crossed. Eyes locked on Zane.
"Zane."
Her tone could've sliced concrete. She didn't shout. Didn't make a scene.
But her presence alone turned the moment cold.
The girl looked between them. "Uh… do you two—?"
"Not talking to you," Amelia said, not breaking eye contact. "Zane, we need to talk."
He opened his mouth, already fumbling. "Amelia, it's not—"
"Don't. Not here. Walk."
She gave him a look that left no room for negotiation.
Zane glanced at the girl — who was now backing off, clearly sensing something had gone very wrong — and then back at Amelia. He ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, then nodded reluctantly.
He followed her as they stepped away from the café, away from the view of Sunny, into the side alley behind the shops.
The tension hung heavy.
Amelia waited until they were alone before stopping, spinning on him.
"You want to explain to me what the hell that was?"
Zane leaned against the wall, rubbing the back of his neck, breath uneven. "I didn't kiss her."
Amelia narrowed her eyes. "Right. Because she kissed you. And you just… stood there like a stunned golden retriever."
"I didn't expect her to—!"
"Did she know?" Amelia interrupted, voice sharp. "About Sunny. Did you tell her?"
Zane's silence answered for him.
Amelia's jaw dropped slightly. "Are you kidding me?"
"I didn't think I had to," he said, suddenly defensive. "It's not like I invited her out one-on-one. It was a group thing. I didn't expect her to still be into me like that. She just showed up, said she missed talking, and I—"
"You knew she was still into you," Amelia snapped. "Don't act stupid, Zane. You read people. That's, like, your whole thing."
He winced. She wasn't wrong.
"I didn't flirt," he said. "I didn't touch her. I didn't say I was single, but come on — she follows me online. There's articles about Euphony, videos, people shipping me and Sunny. I thought it was obvious."
"People don't operate off assumptions," Amelia bit back. "You didn't tell her. That's what matters."
Zane closed his eyes, exhaling hard. "I was going to."
"When? After she kissed you? After you let Sunny walk into that café and see it with her own eyes?"
He flinched. That hit.
Amelia crossed her arms. "You care about her, right?"
Zane looked up immediately. "More than anything."
"Then act like it. Be honest with her before someone else has to do it for you."
A beat of silence.
Amelia looked him up and down. "Because if you don't tell her — I will."
Zane stared at her, his jaw tight… but eventually, he nodded.
"…I'll tell her."
"You better," Amelia said, turning to go. "Before this turns into something that can't be fixed."
---
Sunny held up a pair of earrings, the plastic card dangling from her fingers."These are cute, right? Or maybe too sparkly? I feel like you could totally pull them off. You have, like… shiny energy."
She turned, smiling—expecting a playful eye-roll or a sarcastic quip from Amelia.
But instead, Amelia stood still.
No grin. No banter. Just this quiet, unreadable look in her eyes.
"…What?" Sunny's smile faded. "What's going on?"
That's when she noticed movement behind Amelia.
Zane.
He stepped into view, looking like he hadn't meant to be seen yet. His expression wasn't his usual cool confidence, either. It was… hesitant. Like he was bracing for impact.
Sunny blinked in surprise. "Zane?"Her voice lifted slightly, confused but warm. "Wait, were you out here too? You could've just said hi if you saw us, we—"
She stopped.
She really looked at him now.
His jaw was tight. Eyes not meeting hers. That small flicker of guilt across his face, plain as day.
And just like that… her stomach sank.
"Why do you look like that?" she asked, a touch quieter.
Her gaze flicked between him and Amelia, piecing something together she didn't want to see.
Zane opened his mouth, slow and careful. "Sunny… we need to talk."
Amelia's eyes closed. She stepped aside, folding her arms tightly. She couldn't bear to witness it.
Sunny tilted her head slightly, confused. "What's going on…?"
Zane's voice was low, careful. "Someone was with the group today… someone from my past. I didn't invite her — she just came along."
Sunny blinked, her expression searching. "Okay…"
He hesitated. Then, quietly:
"She kissed me."
The words felt… wrong. Foreign. Like they didn't fit in this quiet little store. For a moment, nothing moved. Even Amelia held her breath.
Sunny's mouth parted. "She… kissed you?"
"I didn't kiss her back," Zane said quickly. "I didn't expect it, I swear. I thought she knew about us—"
Sunny looked at him, not angry. Just… stunned. Disoriented.
"You thought she knew?"
"I didn't say anything. I just figured…" He ran a hand through his hair. "I thought it was obvious."
Sunny swallowed, her fingers curling gently around the earrings she still held. Her voice came quiet.
"You didn't think to mention I existed?"
Zane stepped closer, expression pained. "Sunny, it wasn't like that. I didn't lie. I just… I wasn't prepared. I was caught off guard. I wasn't thinking—"
"I know," she murmured, not quite looking at him now. "I can tell."
He stared at her, searching her expression for something — anything.
But she wasn't lashing out. Wasn't storming off. Her voice stayed soft.
"I know you didn't mean for it to happen. And I believe you didn't kiss her back." She drew a breath. "But it still hurts."
Zane's face crumpled. "I love you."
"I know," Sunny whispered. "But love's not just feelings. It's action. And I don't know what this means yet… I just need time to think."
Before Zane could speak again, Amelia stepped in — voice sharp.
"You need time?" she said, incredulous. "He let another girl kiss him and you're giving him the benefit of the doubt?"
Sunny turned, startled. "Amelia—"
"No. Sorry. I've watched you open up, little by little, and trust someone, and now this happens and you're acting like you're the one who made a mistake."
"I'm not saying that—"
"You're not mad, and that's the problem."
Sunny's lips trembled. "I'm not mad, Amelia… I'm just trying to understand."
Amelia threw her hands up. "Well, I am mad. So I'll be mad for both of us."
There was a tense pause.
Sunny finally looked at Zane again — eyes sad, but still gentle.
"I'll talk to you later. I just… I need space."
Zane didn't try to stop her. He just nodded, even though it hurt.
Sunny turned and walked toward the exit, her steps calm, steady.
Amelia glared at Zane as she passed.
"You had something good. And you almost fumbled it."
Then she followed Sunny, leaving Zane in the middle of the store — still holding the pieces.
---
Amelia caught up to Sunny just outside the store. For a while, they walked in silence. The street was busy, but the noise felt muffled, like the city had dipped into a softer, sadder frequency.
Amelia finally spoke, her voice taut. "Why didn't you lash out?"
Sunny didn't answer right away.
"I mean," Amelia went on, "how could you be so calm? He just—" She stopped herself, voice cracking with emotion. "I don't get it."
Sunny hugged her arms close to her chest. She didn't look over, just stared ahead.
"Frustration's… foreign to me," she said softly. "I don't know what it looks like on me. I don't know what it would do to me."
Amelia slowed.
Sunny continued, voice barely above the hum of the crowd. "I don't think I've ever been angry. Not really. Not even as a kid. Sad, yes. Always sad. Sadness is my anger."
That's when the tears started falling — quiet, steady.
"I'm upset," she whispered. "Of course I'm upset. But I just… I don't think Zane would ever intentionally hurt me."
She sniffled, brushing a tear from her cheek. "I think he really thought she knew. I think he gave her the benefit of the doubt. Just like I'm doing for him."
Amelia stopped walking. Her heart cracked a little at Sunny's quiet honesty.
"Sunny…" she said, her voice gentler now. "You're too good for him."
Sunny paused. Her eyes were red, but she didn't cry harder — just stood there, holding that hurt like something fragile and sacred.
"I'm… not sure about that," she murmured. "I just don't want to falsely accuse him. Not when… it isn't quite justified."
Amelia swallowed hard. She wanted to argue. She wanted to scream that Sunny deserved rage, deserved to be defended. But all she could do was reach out and pull her friend into a hug — gentle, careful, as if Sunny might break.
And maybe… she already had, just a little.
---