The Sound Of Connection

A week had passed, and the bright feeling that had settled inside me ever since Hao came into my life only grew stronger. He was more than just a follower or another person in my DMs—he had become my closest friend, someone I could confide in, someone who understood me beyond the surface. Our conversations weren’t just about music anymore; we talked about everything.

It was funny how someone I’d never met in person could feel more real to me than the people I saw every day at school. Every morning, I’d catch myself smiling as I opened my phone, eagerly checking for his messages. I’d never felt this way about anyone before—not a friend, not even myself. I’d always been so guarded, afraid that people only saw me for my looks. But with Hao, none of that mattered. He didn’t even know what I looked like.

One afternoon, after school, I rushed home, excited to see what Hao had been working on. Over the past few days, he’d been talking non-stop about starting his own cover page. I could tell he was nervous, but that was part of what made me feel so connected to him. I knew those nerves all too well.

As I settled into my room, I saw a new message pop up on my screen:

Hao: “Hey, I’m thinking of covering ‘First Love’ by Hikaru Utada. What do you think?”

I smiled at the message. It was one of my favourite songs, a ballad full of raw emotion, heartbreak, and nostalgia. It was also a challenging song to cover, but I knew Hao could pull it off.

Me: “That’s perfect! It’s such a beautiful song, and your voice will be amazing on it.”

I could feel my heart racing as I typed. For some reason, I was more excited about Hao’s cover than I had been about my own songs recently. There was something thrilling about watching someone else’s journey unfold, knowing that I had played a small part in inspiring them.

Hao: “Thanks, Hana. I’m kind of nervous, though. What if people don’t like it?”

His words struck a chord with me. I had asked myself that same question a thousand times before every post, every cover. But somehow, saying it out loud to him made the fear seem smaller, more manageable.

Me: “They’ll love it. And even if they don’t, it’s not about them. It’s about you doing what you love.”

There was a pause before his next message came through.

Hao: “You always know what to say. I don’t think I would’ve had the guts to do this without you.”

My face flushed as I read his words. There it was again—that warmth, the feeling of being needed, of being someone’s inspiration. It made me feel like I was doing something right for once, like I mattered in a way that went beyond just being another pretty face.

That evening, we stayed up late, talking about everything from our favorite musicians to the pressures of school. The more we talked, the more I realized how much we had in common. Both of us used music as a way to escape, to express the things we couldn’t say out loud. Both of us had felt invisible in different ways, and yet, somehow, we had found each other.

The next morning, I woke up with a sense of anticipation buzzing inside me. Today was the day Hao was going to post his first cover. I could tell he was nervous, but I had complete faith in him. He had sent me a rough version of the song the night before, and it was beautiful—his voice full of emotion, perfectly capturing the bittersweet ache of the lyrics.

As soon as I got out of bed, I checked my phone for his message. Sure enough, there it was:

Hao: “It’s up. I’m officially a cover artist now, haha.”

I grinned and immediately clicked on the link he sent me, excited to see his profile. The cover photo was simple but elegant, just a shot of a sunset over the city skyline. The kind of image that made you feel nostalgic for something you couldn’t quite put into words. The video itself was equally stunning—his voice clear and heartfelt as he sang the first lines of “First Love.”

As I watched, I couldn’t help but feel proud. He had done it. Despite his nerves, despite his doubts, he had taken that first step, just like I had not too long ago. And now, he was part of this little world we had created together—a world where music connected us in ways nothing else could.

I quickly sent him a message:

Me: “You did it! I’m so proud of you, Hao. It’s beautiful. I can’t stop listening.”

His response came almost instantly:

Hao: “Really? You’re not just saying that, right?”

Me: “I mean it. You sound incredible. I knew you would.”

There was a pause, and then his next message made my heart skip a beat:

Hao: “Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve had the courage to post it if it wasn’t for you. You’ve made me feel like I can actually do this. Like I’m not alone.”

I stared at the screen, the words sinking in. Hao and I had become more than just friends through our shared love of music. We had become each other’s support system, encouraging one another to keep going, to keep creating, even when it felt like the world wasn’t listening.

As the days went by, Hao’s cover started gaining traction, just like mine had. He was thrilled, sending me updates every few hours about how many views it had got, how many new followers he had gained. It was amazing to see him so excited, so full of life. It made me realize that, in a way, we were both on this journey together, even if we were walking slightly different paths.

But despite the growing success, there was still a part of me that couldn’t fully shake the fear. Every time someone commented on Hao’s cover, praising his voice, I couldn’t help but wonder: Would they still care if they knew who he really was? If they knew who I really was?

It was the same question I had asked myself a thousand times before. I still hadn’t shown my face, still hadn’t revealed my true identity to my followers. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them—it was that I didn’t trust myself. I was afraid that once people knew the real me, they would lose interest, that they would see me as just another girl trying to make it in a world that didn’t care about girls like me.

One night, as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I thought about the message Hao had sent me earlier that day:

“You make me feel like I’m not alone.”

It was a simple statement, but it carried so much weight. Hao had come into my life at a time when I felt completely invisible, when I didn’t think anyone would ever see me for who I really was. And now, here he was, telling me that I had given him the courage to pursue his dreams. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

But at the same time, it terrified me. What if, one day, he asked to meet in person? What if he wanted to know who I really was, beyond the screen, beyond the music? Would he still see me the same way?

As these thoughts swirled in my mind, my phone buzzed on the night stand. It was a message from Hao.

Hao: “Hey, I was thinking... have you ever considered doing a duet? Like, we could cover a song together. What do you think?”

I stared at the message, my heart racing. A duet? It was a simple idea, but it felt like a huge step. Collaborating on a cover would mean even more interaction, even more connection. But could I do it? Could I let someone get that close?

After a few moments, I took a deep breath and typed back:

Me: “I’d love that. Let’s do it.”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***