Two weeks later.



New York had become a blur of long studio nights, early-morning interviews, and exhaustion that settled deep in Melina's bones. But now, finally, she was done.

She sat alone in the dimly lit studio, staring at the screen as the final mix of Sidelines finished exporting. The song that had lived in the back of her mind for months, the one she had almost been too scared to finish, was finally real. And yet, instead of relief, all she felt was a strange kind of weight—like she had just given away a piece of herself she wasn't sure she'd ever get back.

Her producer let out a long breath beside her. "Damn."

Melina swallowed hard, fingers hovering over her phone. "Yeah."

After a moment, she typed out a message.

Melina: It's done. Check your phone.

She attached the file and hit send.

Then, almost as an afterthought, she scrolled to another contact.

Melina: Mikey, record him when he listens to it.

—

Tucker was drained. He had spent the last few hours in the studio in LA, stuck in his own head, running through the same verse so many times he barely heard the words anymore. He leaned back on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly until a notification popped up.

Melina: It's done. Check your phone.

His chest tightened.

He opened the message, tapped the file, and hit play.

I'm not afraid of anything at all...

Melina's voice drifted through his headphones—soft, vulnerable, but carrying something heavier beneath it. The weight of the words hit him instantly.

Mikey, watching from the other side of the room, noticed the shift and silently pulled out his phone to record.

Tucker didn't notice.

His brows furrowed, his grip on his phone tightening as the song unraveled. He had heard pieces of it before, but never like this. Never finished. Never so exposed.

Had nothing to prove 'Til you came into my life Gave me something to lose...

A sharp breath left his lips. His jaw clenched.

By the time the bridge hit, he wasn't even blinking.

And then, the final note faded out.

Silence.

Tucker let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. He swallowed hard, exhaling slowly like he was trying to pull himself back into the room.

"Jesus," he muttered.

Mikey grinned, stopping the recording and immediately sending it to Melina.

Mikey: He's wrecked, bro.

—

Melina's phone buzzed, and she pressed play on the video, her stomach twisting.

Tucker was completely still, his expression unreadable at first. But she saw the way his fingers twitched, the way his chest rose a little too sharply—like he was feeling everything.

And then, at the very end, the smallest, breathless laugh.

Melina's throat tightened.

Melina: That good, huh?

Seconds later, her phone buzzed again.

Tucker: Come home already.

She smiled, exhaling as she typed back.

Melina: Soon.





The city blurred past her as the car sped toward the airport, but Melina barely noticed. Her body felt heavy with exhaustion, but her mind was restless—still caught somewhere between the last two weeks and what was waiting for her in LA.

She adjusted her hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands, staring at the half-empty water bottle in her lap. Everything had moved so fast. The studio, the press, finishing Sidelines. And now, just like that, it was over.

Her phone buzzed.

Tucker: You on the way to the airport?

Melina: Yeah. Few more hours.

She could almost picture him checking his phone between takes, his knee bouncing, waiting. The thought made her chest ache in a way she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with.

The past two weeks had been a whirlwind, but now, the only thing she could think about was home.

And Tucker.

—

The airport was a blur of check-ins, security lines, and tired glances exchanged with Liv, who had flown in that morning just to make sure Melina got home in one piece.

"Try to sleep on the flight," Liv reminded her, nudging her lightly as they walked toward the gate. "You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine," Melina muttered, but her body said otherwise. She felt like a stretched rubber band, the tension barely holding.

Liv eyed her but didn't push. "He's probably losing his mind waiting for you."

Melina huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, well... same."

She didn't even try to fight the smile that tugged at her lips.

—

The flight was long, but at some point, exhaustion won. Melina dozed off with her headphones on, the soft hum of the plane drowning out her thoughts.

When she woke up, the sky outside was a deep navy blue, speckled with city lights below.

Almost home.

Her phone buzzed the second they landed.

Tucker: Tell me when you're here.

She swallowed, heart pounding as she grabbed her bag and followed Liv through the airport.

—

The second she stepped outside, the cool LA air wrapped around her like a welcome. And then, she saw him.

Tucker was leaning against his car, hood up, hands in his pockets. The second their eyes met, he pushed off the car, striding toward her before she could even process it.

And then he was there.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight, his face buried in her hair. Melina let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, gripping the back of his hoodie like she needed to ground herself.

"I missed you," he murmured against her temple.

Her throat tightened, and she just nodded, eyes burning. "Yeah."

Tucker pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands still firm on her waist. His eyes softened as he searched her face, like he was making sure she was really there.

"You're home," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Melina smiled, leaning into him. "Yeah. I am."