7

The next morning, Chas woke up to the smell of something delicious wafting through the air. She stretched lazily in her cozy bed, still adjusting to the newness of Nick's house. Glancing at the clock, it was just past 7 a.m. She rubbed her eyes, threw on her slippers, and padded downstairs, curious about the source of the enticing aroma.

When she entered the kitchen, she was greeted by the sight of Nick standing at the stove, flipping pancakes with a confident ease. He was dressed casually in a plain t-shirt and joggers, looking more relaxed than ever.

“Morning,” Nick said, glancing over his shoulder with a soft smile. “I figured you might be hungry, so I thought I’d whip up something special.”

Chas blinked, still waking up but feeling unexpectedly touched. “You’re cooking for me?” she asked, her voice laced with surprise.

“Of course,” Nick replied, motioning to the plates already set on the counter. “We’ve got pancakes, scrambled eggs, and some fresh fruit. Thought it might be a nice way to start the day.”

Chas couldn’t help but smile, the gesture warming her heart. “This is… really sweet, Nick. Thank you.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he teased with a grin, flipping the last pancake onto a plate. “I’m not that domesticated.”

Chas laughed as she took a seat at the kitchen table, the initial awkwardness from the previous day starting to melt away. “Well, for someone who claims not to be domesticated, this is impressive.”

Nick brought the plates over and sat across from her, gesturing for her to dig in. “You haven’t tasted it yet. It could be terrible.”

She grabbed her fork, took a bite of the pancake, and let out an exaggerated hum of approval. “Mmm, nope. Definitely not terrible. These are amazing.”

Nick chuckled, clearly pleased. “Good to know. I didn’t want to scare you off with my cooking on your second day here.”

As they ate, their conversation flowed more easily than it had the day before.

“I was tempted to wake you up earlier, but you looked so peaceful,” he admitted with a small smile. “Plus, I didn’t want to scare you by barging into your room.”

Chas laughed, playfully pointing her fork at him. “You better not! I would’ve screamed, and then you’d have pancakes on the floor.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said with a grin, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast.

As they continued to enjoy their breakfast, Nick leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee. A nostalgic smile crossed his face as he began, “You know, this isn’t too bad. Better than when I first started cooking. I think my earliest attempts were… catastrophic.”

Chas raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What happened? Did you burn the house down or something?”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite, but close. When I was about 12, I tried to make pancakes for my family. I misread the recipe and put in salt instead of sugar—like a lot of salt. My parents didn’t even pretend to eat them. They just stared at me like I’d tried to poison them.”

Chas burst into laughter, nearly choking on her orange juice. “Oh my gosh, that’s terrible! Did they make you eat it?”

“They threatened to,” Nick admitted, grinning. “But I think they felt sorry for me. I ended up making toast instead.”

Chas giggled, leaning forward on her elbows. “That’s adorable. You know, you sound like one of the kids I grew up with.”

Nick's interest piqued. “Oh yeah? What about you? Any kitchen disasters?”

Chas's eyes lit up as she remembered. “Well, when I was in the orphanage with my siblings, we didn’t exactly have much supervision in the kitchen. Once, we tried to make spaghetti. None of us had a clue what we were doing, but we wanted to surprise the adults.”

Nick smirked. “Let me guess—noodles everywhere?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Chas said, laughing. “We boiled the pasta for way too long, so it turned into this mushy, sticky mess. Then, we didn’t know how to make sauce, so one of the kids decided ketchup and water would do the trick. It was awful. Like, beyond inedible.”

Nick doubled over in laughter, picturing the scene. “Ketchup and water? That’s… creative, I guess.”

“Creative is a generous word for it,” Chas said, shaking her head. “The adults were so nice about it, though. They told us it was the thought that counted. But we all knew they were lying because none of them took a second bite.”

Nick wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. “Sounds like a scene from a sitcom. Did you ever get better at cooking?”

Chas shrugged, a playful glint in her eye. “A little. I can make a mean grilled cheese now. But I guess I’ll leave the fancy stuff to you, Mr. Pancake Chef.”

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m no pro either, but at least I know not to use ketchup as pasta sauce.”

They both laughed, the stories of their chaotic cooking experiences breaking the ice even further. By the end of breakfast, Chas felt a warm connection forming between them—something she hadn’t expected but was starting to embrace.

By the time they finished breakfast, Chas felt more at ease than she’d expected. The walls of formality between them had started to crumble, replaced by a growing comfort that felt natural and genuine.

“Thanks for this, Nick,” Chas said sincerely as she helped him clear the table. “It was really nice. I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

“Anytime,” Nick replied, his tone warm and earnest. “Besides, you’re stuck with me for a while. Might as well make it enjoyable, right?”

Chas smiled, feeling a flicker of excitement about the days to come. Despite the unusual circumstances that had brought her here, she couldn’t deny that this morning—this simple, shared moment—felt like the start of something good.

As they cleared their plates and placed them in the sink, Nick turned to Chas, leaning casually against the counter. “So, what’s your plan for today?” he asked, wiping his hands with a dish towel.

Chas grabbed her glass of water, taking a sip before replying, “I’ve got a lecture at 10, so I’ll leave around 9:30. After that, maybe some library time to catch up on assignments.”

Nick nodded, glancing at the clock. “Plenty of time to get ready then. Want me to drive you?”

Chas blinked, surprised by the offer. “Drive me? Oh, no, you don’t have to. I can manage.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, his expression teasing. “What, you don’t trust my driving skills? I’ll have you know I’m a great driver.”

Chas chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s not that. I just don’t want to trouble you. It’s my routine, you know? I’m used to it.”

Nick crossed his arms, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "Chas, you’re living here now. Let me make things a little easier for you. Besides, I wouldn’t mind seeing where this famous campus of yours is.”

Chas hesitated, looking down at her glass, then back at Nick. The sincerity in his voice was disarming. “You’re really insisting, huh?”

“Absolutely,” Nick said with a grin. “I’ve got nothing else planned this morning, so you might as well let me play chauffeur.”

Chas sighed dramatically but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. “Fine, you win. But if we’re late, I’m blaming you.”

Nick chuckled. “Deal. Now go get ready while I clean up here.”

As Chas headed upstairs to change, she felt a strange mix of amusement and comfort. Nick's offer wasn’t just kind—it felt like he genuinely wanted to help her settle into this new chapter of her life. And despite her initial resistance, she found herself looking forward to the ride with him.

-------------------------------------------------------

As Nick lounged on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone, he heard the soft creak of the staircase. Looking up, his gaze fell on Chas as she walked down. She had on a white fitted sweater tucked neatly into black jeans, her pink tote bag slung over her shoulder. Her curly dark brown hair framed her face, cascading effortlessly, while her natural makeup gave her a soft, fresh glow. She completed the look with her trusty Doc Martens, their clunky soles clapping gently on the hardwood floor.

Nick smiled and sat up straight, pretending to inspect her outfit. “Well, someone’s looking very studious and stylish this morning,” he teased, his tone light.

Chas chuckled as she adjusted the strap of her tote bag. “Studious, huh? That’s the vibe I’m going for.”

He leaned back, smirking. “And those Doc Martens—you could stomp out anyone who gets in your way. Very intimidating.”

Chas rolled her eyes playfully, descending the last step. “You have a problem with my boots again?”

“Not at all,” Nick replied, standing up and grabbing his jacket. “They’re perfect for crushing the hopes and dreams of your competition.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

Nick gestured toward the door with a mock bow. “Shall we, Miss Honeydew?”

Chas snorted but felt a flutter of warmth in her chest at how easily he could make her laugh. “We shall,” she said, walking past him, her boots thudding confidently on the floor.

As they stepped outside, Nick opened the car door for her, a small yet thoughtful gesture. She gave him a playful grin as she got in, feeling an odd sense of comfort and lightness in his presence.

“Ready for your chauffeur experience?” he asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Chas smirked. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

And with that, they were off, the awkwardness of the previous day slowly melting away as they navigated this new rhythm together.

As Nick started the car, the gentle hum of the engine filled the air. For a brief moment, the silence lingered, but this time it wasn’t awkward—it was comfortable, almost natural. Chas adjusted the strap of her tote bag on her lap, looking out the window as the scenery began to shift.

“So,” Nick started, glancing at her with a small smirk, “is this the part where you tell me to play something cool on the radio to impress you?”

Chas turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so you do want to impress me?” she teased, a grin spreading across her face.

Nick laughed, reaching for the radio dial. “I mean, no pressure or anything, but what if I already have the perfect playlist queued up?”

“Let me guess,” Chas said, crossing her arms. “Some dad rock anthem?”

“Wow, harsh,” Nick replied with mock offense. “What’s wrong with dad rock? It’s classic. Timeless.”

Chas rolled her eyes but chuckled. “Fine, show me what you’ve got, Mr. Timeless.”

Nick hit play, and the opening chords of Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way” filled the car. He gave her a smug look as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

Chas tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Okay, I’ll admit, not bad. But let me show you what’s really timeless.”

Reaching for her phone, she quickly connected to the Bluetooth. Moments later, “Into You” by Ariana Grande blasted through the speakers.

Nick groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on! Pop princess overload!”

Chas leaned back in her seat, grinning mischievously. “You’ll thank me later.”

Nick laughed, shaking his head as he turned onto the main road. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

Chas smirked, pretending to fan herself. “Wow, is this what it’s like to ride with a smooth-talking chauffeur?”

Their laughter filled the car as they continued down the street, the music a blend of both their tastes. It was the first car ride where the walls came down, and for the first time, it felt like they were simply two people enjoying each other’s company.

As they cruised down the street, Chas glanced over at Nick, her curiosity getting the best of her. “So, where did you go to college?” she asked, resting her chin on her hand and looking genuinely interested.

Nick chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

Chas raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? So what did you do after high school?”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking for a moment. “Well, after graduation, I worked at a department store for a couple of years. It wasn’t glamorous or anything, but it paid the bills. I was in the stockroom most of the time—loading boxes, organizing shelves. You know, real rockstar training.”

Chas smiled, amused by his self-deprecating humor. “Wait, you? In a department store? That’s kind of hard to picture. Did you ever have to, like, help customers?”

“Oh, God, no,” Nick said, laughing. “I was terrible with people back then. I was awkward as hell. They kept me in the back for a reason.”

Chas giggled, trying to imagine a younger, more awkward version of him. “So how did you go from stocking shelves to, well, this?” she asked, gesturing vaguely around them.

Nick's smile turned a little wistful. “After a couple of years in the stockroom, I joined a band with some guys I knew from the pub that i always went there back in the day. We played gigs at crappy bars and house parties, anywhere that would have us. It wasn’t exactly a fast track to stardom, but it was fun. It felt like we were building something, you know?”

Chas nodded, captivated. “What happened to the band?”

He shrugged lightly, a mix of nostalgia and acceptance in his expression. “We gave it four solid years. But like a lot of bands, we just… fell apart. Creative differences, life pulling us in different directions. After the breakup, I figured I’d try going solo. And, well…” He gestured to himself with a half-smile. “Here I am.”

Chas tilted her head, her eyes warm. “That’s actually really inspiring. You didn’t let it stop you—you just kept going.”

Nick glanced at her, his expression softening. “I guess I did. But enough about me—what about you? How’d you end up studying psychology?”

Chas grinned, leaning back in her seat. “Oh no, you’re not flipping this on me just yet. I have so many follow-up questions about your band days.”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, fire away. But don’t expect any embarrassing stories about eyeliner or leather pants. Those are classified.”

Chas couldn’t resist the playful urge to tease him. “Oh, come on, you can’t just drop a bomb like ‘no leather pants’ and not give me anything,” she said,

leaning forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I want the full rockstar experience, Nick. I need to know: Was there eyeliner? Was there a ridiculous amount of hairspray involved?”

Nick chuckled, clearly amused by her persistence. “I’m telling you, no eyeliner. And the leather pants? Well, let’s just say I learned very quickly that leather pants and rockstar swagger don’t always mix.” He shot her a smirk. “I couldn’t even sit down properly without feeling like I was suffocating in them.”

Chas burst out laughing, imagining Nick, probably in his younger days, struggling to maneuver in tight leather pants. “Oh my god, I need to see pictures of this. You have to have some, right?”

“Unfortunately, no photographic evidence exists,” Nick said, his voice deadpan. “I’m just going to keep that part of my history buried.”

Chas’s grin widened as she leaned back in her seat. “Oh, come on, you can’t leave me hanging like this. You were in a band, you must’ve had some wild stage moments! What’s the most embarrassing thing that happened to you?”

Nick looked over at her for a moment, then back at the road, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Well, there was this one time we had a gig in a tiny dive bar, and I slipped off the stage in front of the entire crowd. I landed flat on my back, and it took me a solid minute to get up. It was like watching a turtle try to get back on its feet. The whole bar was laughing, including my bandmates.”

Chas couldn’t stop laughing. “That’s it. You need to find me some old videos, or I’ll be imagining that for the rest of the day. A turtle falling off stage—I can’t.”

Nick shook his head, still smiling. “I’m telling you, you’d never believe it if you saw it. But that was the best part about being in the band—everything was chaotic, and we didn’t take ourselves too seriously. Just a bunch of guys doing what we loved.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun, even with the turtle moments,” Chas said, grinning. “I think I’m starting to get the picture now, Nick. The rocker who’s too cool for leather pants but definitely not too cool to fall off the stage.”

Nick chuckled, his heart warmed by her laughter. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. But you know what? I wouldn’t change any of it. It’s part of the story.”

Chas grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Well, you’ve definitely got my attention now. If you ever write a book, I’m buying a copy. I need to hear more about these stories.”

Nick shook his head, still laughing. “I’m not sure the world is ready for that book.”

“Trust me,” Chas said with a wink, “I think it’d be a bestseller.”

As the car pulled up to the front of the faculty building, Chas unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to Nick with a smile. “Well, this is me. Thanks for the ride,” she said, giving him a playful grin.

Nick nodded, but his face showed a slight concern. “Are you sure you’re okay being by yourself tonight? You’ve got a lot on your plate already, between class and your part-time job.”

Chas laughed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m fine, Nick. It’s just a few more hours of work. Plus, you know I love the independence. I can handle it.” She paused for a moment, giving him a reassuring look. “Besides, I’ll be home late, but I’ll be fine. I’ve got this.”

Nick studied her face for a moment, his concern still lingering. “I just don’t want you to overdo it. You’re already juggling a lot, and I don’t want you burning yourself out. Remember, you don’t have to do everything alone.”

Chas smiled warmly, grateful for his care. “I know. But I’m good. I’ll just finish my shift and come home to relax. Maybe we can watch a movie together or something when I get back?”

Nick's face softened at her suggestion. “Sounds perfect. You’ve earned it. Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself today, alright?”

“I promise,” Chas said, giving him a small wink before opening the car door. “I’ll text you later when I’m done. Don’t worry about me.”

Nick smiled as she stepped out of the car, watching her head toward the entrance of the building. “See you tonight, Chas,” he called after her, his voice filled with affection.

Chas turned around and waved, her smile bright and carefree. “See you, Nick! Thanks again for the ride!”

As she walked into the building, Nick watched her for a moment longer, feeling a mix of pride and protectiveness. He knew she could handle things on her own, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to be there for her every step of the way. After a few seconds, he shook his head with a chuckle, already thinking about what movie they could watch later that night when she got back.

As Chas disappeared into the building, Nick couldn’t help but smile to himself. Despite her independence, he always admired her ability to juggle everything—school, work, and still manage to stay so upbeat. He just wished she didn’t have to do it all alone.

Shaking off his thoughts, he turned the key in the ignition and drove off, his mind now focused on the night ahead. He was looking forward to their quiet evening, the two of them unwinding together after a long day. The movie suggestion she mentioned sounded perfect, though he’d probably let her pick—it was always more fun that way, watching her get excited about whatever film she was in the mood for.

As he made his way home, Nick pulled out his phone and sent a quick message: Let me know when you’re done, I’ll have everything ready for when you get back. He then paused, feeling like he should add something more, but after a moment’s hesitation, he simply hit send.

Chas's independence was something Nick respected, but it was also clear to him that there were times when she needed to lean on others. He only hoped she wouldn’t wait too long to ask for help when it all became too much. For now, he was content to wait for her to finish her shift, and once she was back, they could settle into the comfort of each other’s company.

-------------------------------------------------------

As Chas sat with her friends on a sunny bench in the campus park, she felt a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling inside her. Leon, always perceptive, the handsome but flamboyant boy who was one of her closest friends, had been watching her closely.

Leon leaned in, raising an eyebrow as he took a bite of his sandwich. “Okay, Chas,” he began, his tone casual but tinged with curiosity. “You’ve been acting… weird lately. First, you’re always smiling like you’re in on some big secret. Then, you keep getting these texts, and sometimes you just go quiet for no reason. What’s going on?”

The rest of the group, who had been chatting among themselves, suddenly went silent. All eyes turned to Chas, and she could feel their gaze like a spotlight. Taking a deep breath, she realized it was time to share her secret. She trusted these people—they’d always supported her, and this moment wouldn’t be any different.

Grinning nervously, she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Okay, guys… promise you won’t freak out?”

Everyone leaned in, intrigued. Gigi, the mature, mother-like one who also had a flair for the dramatic, placed a hand on her chest. “Wait, are you pregnant or something? I’ll faint if you say you are!”

Chas burst into laughter, shaking her head. “No, no, nothing like that. But… um, well, I’ve been living with someone for the past two days.”

Nina, the girlish and feminine one, smirked, tilting her head. “Who, Chas? Are you seeing someone now? Come on, spill it!”

Chas hesitated for a moment before finally blurting it out. “Okay, here goes… I’ve been living with Nick Sinclair.”

A beat of silence passed before the group erupted in shock and disbelief.

Leon nearly choked on his sandwich. “Nick Sinclair… the Nick Sinclair?”

“Yep, that’s the one,” Chas said, laughing nervously, overwhelmed by the sudden attention.

Katy, the calm and gentle one, blinked rapidly, as if trying to process the news. “Are you serious? As in, the rockstar Nick Sinclair? The soft rock legend with the crazy guitar riffs and soulful lyrics?”

“Wait,” Martin cut in, his voice almost too neutral. “The one with the leather pants and the mullet back in the day? You’re living with him?”

Chas nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. It’s… complicated. We’ve been talking since the charity event at my orphanage a while ago, and one time, after we bumped into each other at the café where I work, he drove me back to my dorm. He said he was worried about the place and offered me a room at his house. At first, I was hesitant, but after everything that’s happened—and talking it over with my foster mom—I decided to take him up on it. He’s just trying to help me. And honestly, guys… he’s incredible.”

As the group processed her words, Chas’s eyes flickered to Martin. He was smiling, but there was something unreadable in his expression. Her chest tightened briefly before she looked away, focusing on the warmth of her friends’ reactions instead.

Leon leaned back, his face a mix of awe and disbelief. “Cash, that’s insane. I mean, Nick Sinclair? Isn’t he, like… way older than you?”

“Yeah,” Chas admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly, “he’s a bit older, but honestly, it doesn’t feel that way. I don’t know. It just… works.”

Gigi raised an eyebrow, grinning mischievously. “Okay, but tell me more. Is he a total rockstar at home, too? Does he blast his own music and wear sunglasses inside?”

Chas laughed, shaking her head. “No sunglasses, but he definitely plays his music way too loud sometimes. And honestly? I kind of like it. It makes the house feel alive.”

Josh, the jokester of the group, leaned back with a mock-serious expression. “So, what you’re telling us is that you’re living in a rockstar’s mansion, eating rockstar food, and probably walking past rockstar Grammys on your way to the kitchen. Sounds tough, Chas.”

The group burst into laughter, and Chas found herself relaxing.

But Leon, ever perceptive, leaned forward again, his voice gentler this time. “You sure you’re okay, though, honey? Living with him, I mean. It’s not like you two have been together for years.”

Chas nodded, her tone sincere. “I know it’s fast. But… it just feels right. It’s weird, and I’m still getting used to it, but I don’t want to walk away from this. I really like him. And he’s been amazing.”

The group exchanged glances, their teasing fading into genuine smiles. “Well, if he makes you happy, then we’re all for it,” Katy said with a wink. “But you have to bring him around soon, okay?”

“Definitely,” Chas grinned. “I’ll introduce him next time.”

As the group teased her about being the “luckiest housemate alive” and joked about her “rockstar boyfriend,” Chas found herself stealing another glance at Martin. He was laughing along with the others, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something unsaid between them.

Still, as the sun warmed her skin and her friends’ laughter surrounded her, she felt a wave of relief. Sharing this part of her life had been terrifying, but now, she was glad she had. Whatever lay ahead with Nick—or even with her own tangled feelings—she knew her friends would always have her back.

Chas leaned back on the bench, taking a deep breath as her friends continued to chatter around her. The initial wave of excitement over her revelation about Nick had simmered down into a comfortable hum of conversation. The teasing and wide-eyed disbelief had given way to quiet acceptance, and for the first time since moving in with him, she felt a genuine sense of peace.

Leon stretched his legs out in front of him, breaking the silence. “You know,” he began thoughtfully, his usual playful tone replaced with sincerity, “I think it’s cool that you’re taking things slow. I mean, with someone like Nick Sinclair, it would be easy to lose yourself in the whirlwind of it all. But it sounds like you’re really thinking things through.”

Chas smiled at him, grateful for the reassurance. “Yeah. Honestly, I didn’t plan any of this—it just sort of happened. But I didn’t want to rush into anything. I want to figure it out as I go, especially with everything moving so fast.” She glanced at her friends, her voice softening. “Living with him hasn’t been as overwhelming as I thought it would be. If anything, it feels… easy. Like a breath of fresh air.”

Gigi tilted her head, curiosity lighting up her face. “But come on, Chas,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially, “what’s he like when he’s not being Nick Sinclair, the rockstar? What’s he like when it’s just the two of you?”

Chas’s eyes softened, her thoughts drifting to the quiet moments she had shared with Nick. She thought of their late-night chats over coffee, their shared laughter while watching old sitcoms, and the way he always managed to make her feel like she belonged. “He’s… normal,” she said finally, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Really normal. He’s nothing like what you’d expect. He’s kind, thoughtful, and so down-to-earth. Honestly, I forget he’s even famous half the time. He’s just… Nick.”

Leon raised an eyebrow. “So, no backstage tantrums? No smashing guitars in the kitchen?”

Chas laughed. “None of that. He’s probably the least dramatic person I’ve ever met.”

Martin, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, finally spoke up, his voice steady but warm. “Sounds like he’s a good guy,” he said, offering her a small smile. “A keeper, maybe.”

Chas’s laughter bubbled up again, this time softer, more vulnerable. “I don’t know about that,” she said, her cheeks flushing slightly. “But he does make me feel… heard. And that means a lot to me.”

Nina, ever the sarcastic one, crossed her arms and leaned back with a smirk. “Well, just promise me one thing, Chas. If he ever starts acting like a diva—wearing sunglasses indoors or referring to himself in the third person—you’ll let us know, right?”

Chas grinned, the sparkle in her eyes unmistakable. “I promise. If he so much as hums his own songs around the house, you’ll be the first to hear about it.”

The group burst into laughter, their voices echoing across the sunny park. For a moment, Chas let herself bask in the warmth of their presence, their support wrapping around her like a protective shield.

Then Gigi chimed in, her voice dripping with mock drama. “You better not forget us when you’re off touring the world as his muse, Chas. Next thing we know, you’ll be in Vogue, posing with him in matching leather pants!”

Josh leaned forward, grinning. “Or better yet, she’ll start her own pop career as Chas Sinclair! I can already see it—headlining with ‘The Rocker and the Rookie!’”

Chas rolled her eyes, her laughter bubbling up again. “Oh, stop! I’m not marrying into a rock band dynasty, okay? And there will be no leather pants, Gigi!”

Gigi gasped, clutching her chest. “No leather pants? Honey, you’re killing my dreams here!”

The group broke into another fit of laughter, and Chas shook her head, wiping a tear from her eye.

Leon nudged her playfully. “Just don’t forget about us little people when you’re living the rockstar life.”

“Never,” Chas said, smiling so brightly it reached her eyes. “You guys are stuck with me, no matter what.”

In that moment, surrounded by her friends’ teasing and laughter, Chas felt everything fall into place. The uncertainty and doubts she’d been carrying melted away, replaced by a newfound confidence in the choices she’d made. She didn’t know what the future held, but for now, she knew she wasn’t alone—and that was more than enough.

-------------------------------------------------------

As they walked toward their next class, Gigi and Leon flanked Chas on either side, their energy buzzing as usual. The hallway bustled with students, but the trio moved as if they were in their own little bubble of conversation.

Gigi flipped her hair dramatically, her voice laced with mock disdain. “Did you see Martin’s Instagram story yesterday? He was all lovey-dovey with Ana again. Ana, of all people. What does he even see in her?”

Leon snorted, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “Oh, you mean Ana-from-another-campus Ana? The one who always looks like she’s auditioning for a toothpaste commercial?”

Chas rolled her eyes at their theatrics but couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at her lips. “Guys, don’t start.”

“What?” Gigi gasped, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying, she’s… basic.”

Leon grinned mischievously. “Oh, totally. Like, she’s the kind of girl who claps when the plane lands. You dodged a bullet, Chas.”

Chas tried to stifle her laughter, but Gigi caught it immediately. She narrowed her eyes playfully. “You’re laughing because you agree, don’t you?!”

“I’m laughing because you two are ridiculous,” Chas said, shaking her head.

Leon shrugged. “We’re not saying anything that isn’t true. Martin really downgraded. And don’t even get me started on how fast he moved on. Like, seriously? It hasn’t even been that long since you two broke up.”

Chas’s smile wavered for a split second, but she quickly masked it with a casual shrug. “It’s fine. Let him and Ana have their lovey dovey romantic life before it's over.”

Gigi stopped in her tracks, eyes widening in shock. “What the hell chas, i'm sure they'll not last long”

Chas hesitated, glancing at the floor as they resumed walking. “Earlier at the park bench when we talk about Nick, i saw a notification from her pop up on his phone once, back when we were still trying to stay friends. It was pretty obvious.”

Leon groaned, his voice tinged with frustration. “Ugh, what a jerk. He didn’t even try to hide it?”

“No, and honestly, it stung a little at first,” Chas admitted, her tone calm but honest. “I mean, seeing how quickly he moved on… it hurt. But what can I do? Life goes on, and so do I.”

Gigi threw an arm around her shoulders dramatically. “You’re too good for him, babe. You’re, like, filet mignon, and he downgraded to a drive-thru burger. He’ll regret it one day.”

Leon snapped his fingers in agreement. “Exactly. And while he’s stuck with Ana-and-her-basic-self, you’re out here thriving—with a rockstar, no less!”

Chas shook her head, laughing softly. “Can you two stop bringing up Nick like he’s some trophy? He’s not part of this.”

“Oh, honey, he’s absolutely part of this,” Gigi said, grinning wickedly. “If Martin sees you with Nick, he’ll probably cry himself to sleep. And honestly? Good. He deserves it.”

Chas sighed but smiled despite herself. “You two are impossible.”

They reached the classroom door, and as Chas stepped inside, she caught sight of Martin already seated at their usual row. As Chas slid into the seat beside Martin, she offered him a small, polite smile. It felt almost mechanical—polite but distant. Martin returned the gesture, his expression neutral, as if the weight of their history wasn’t sitting between them.

“Hey,” he said casually, adjusting his notebook.

“Hey,” Chas replied, keeping her tone light. She pulled out her own notes and focused on the front of the class, determined not to let her mind drift.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t warm either. It was the kind of quiet that lingered after two people decided to keep things civil, even if the cracks beneath the surface hadn’t fully healed. Her stomach twisted ever so slightly when she noticed him scrolling on his phone, the faint glow of Ana’s name lighting up the screen for a moment before he swiped it away.

Taking a deep breath, she settled into the seat beside him, brushing the moment aside. Martin glanced at her and gave a small, awkward smile, but Chas barely acknowledged it.

Behind them, however, Gigi and Leon were anything but civil.

Leon leaned over to Gigi, cupping his hand around his mouth to whisper—loud enough for Chas to catch, of course. “Do you think he’s wearing that hoodie because Ana picked it out for him? It screams discount rack.”

Gigi stifled a laugh and nodded. “Definitely. Or maybe she just borrowed it and stretched it out. That’s why it looks so… sad.”

Chas fought the urge to turn around, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Martin, thankfully, seemed oblivious, too focused on scrolling through his phone.

“Psst, Chas,” Gigi whispered, poking her shoulder with the end of a pen. When Chas finally glanced back at her, Gigi made a dramatic heart shape with her hands, then immediately “shattered” it by miming a breaking motion.

Chas shot her a look, somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Stop it,” she mouthed.

But Leon wasn’t done. He leaned forward, tapping her notebook with his finger. “Hey, Chas, you think Ana proofreads his notes for him now? Or maybe she just highlights everything because she doesn’t understand any of it.”

Gigi snorted so loudly that a few students turned around to see what the commotion was. She quickly pretended to cough, waving her hand dramatically in front of her face.

Martin glanced at her briefly, then turned back to Chas. “What’s up with them?” he asked under his breath, gesturing toward the duo behind them.

“Oh, you know them,” Chas said lightly, shrugging. “They’re always… themselves.”

Martin chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, they haven’t changed a bit.”

Chas smiled faintly, grateful that he didn’t press further. She returned her attention to her notes, but the ridiculous antics behind her were impossible to ignore.

Gigi tapped Leon’s arm and then mimed typing furiously on an invisible phone, complete with exaggerated facial expressions. “Dear Ana,” she whispered theatrically, “Today, Chas sat beside me. Please don’t be mad. Love, your loyal lapdog.”

Leon covered his mouth, shaking with silent laughter. Chas finally turned around and glared at them, though her lips twitched in amusement. “Will you two behave?” she hissed, keeping her voice low.

“Never,” Gigi whispered back with a wink.

Leon crossed his arms, pretending to pout. “We’re just being supportive friends, Chas. You’re lucky to have us.”

Rolling her eyes, Chas turned back to face the front of the room, ignoring the amused smile creeping onto her face.

Martin glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, suppressing a laugh. “Just my supportive friends.”

Gigi leaned forward one last time, this time whispering loudly enough for Chas to hear but not Martin. “You’re a saint, Chas. If I had to sit next to him, I’d demand hazard pay.”

Leon nodded sagely. “Absolutely. She deserves an award.”

Chas didn’t bother turning around this time. Instead, she smiled to herself, shaking her head. It was moments like this—filled with chaos and laughter—that made her realize how lucky she was to have Gigi and Leon in her corner.

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Night comes, Nick had just finished cleaning up and was still in his comfy clothes, the familiar exhaustion of a long studio session creeping in. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already 11:00 PM, and Chas still wasn’t back. He tried to shake off the slight worry creeping into his chest, reminding himself that she often worked late, but something about the silence of the house felt different tonight. He sat on the couch, his thoughts drifting to her.

When the front door creaked open, Nick immediately stood up, relief washing over him. Chas walked in, her bag slung over her shoulder, looking tired but content. Her eyes met his, and she flashed a small smile.

“Hey, you’re home,” Nick said, his voice light but with an underlying tone of concern.

“Yeah, just got back from my shift,” Chas replied, kicking off her shoes and stretching a little. She walked into the living room, where Nick was standing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost track of time.”

Nick couldn’t help but smile at her nonchalant attitude, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. “It’s fine, I just… you know, I wasn’t sure where you were. And it’s getting pretty late.”

Chas chuckled, walking over to him and playfully bumping his shoulder. “I’m not a kid, Nick. I can take care of myself. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

“I know,” Nick said, his voice softening as he gazed at her. “But still, I’m just glad you’re home.”

Chas leaned back against the couch and sighed, letting the exhaustion settle in. “Honestly, I’m glad to be back. It’s been a long day, and now I can finally relax.”

Nick sat down beside her, his arm casually draping over her shoulders. He could sense she was still a little wired from the long day, but she was clearly relieved to be home. As the minutes passed, the quiet of the night settled around them, a comfortable stillness that spoke of their growing connection. Nick could feel the weariness of the day lifting, replaced by the soft presence of Chas beside him. It was strange, this feeling of ease that seemed to come naturally when they were together, yet he couldn’t deny the small tug of uncertainty in his chest.

Chas, sensing the calm, leaned back a little more into the couch, her eyes briefly closing as she let out a quiet sigh. “I’m really glad to be home,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper now. “It’s been a long day.”

Nick nodded, his gaze steady on her. “I can tell. I’m just glad you’re back safe.”

There was a moment of silence, and Nick felt his mind wander. He wasn’t sure what exactly he felt for Chas yet—there was something there, something he couldn’t quite place—but it was still too new, too uncertain for him to name. He’d been through a lot in his life, and this… whatever this was, with Chas, was different. But in a good way.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” Nick asked, his tone light but still tinged with concern. “You must be starving after working all day.”

Chas turned her head to meet his gaze, her smile soft and genuine. “I’m good for now. Just… sitting here with you is enough,” she said, her voice warm but not quite intimate.

Nick smiled back, appreciating her ease, even though there was still a part of him that longed to understand more. “Alright. But if you change your mind, I’m here.”

They both fell into a comfortable silence again, the kind that came with shared space but not yet a deep connection. Nick could feel the tension in his chest ease with each passing second, but there was still a lingering uncertainty. He wondered if Chas felt the same—if she, too, was unsure of where this was going.

After a few moments, Chas spoke again, her voice breaking the quiet. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Nick replied, turning his head to face her.

She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Do you ever feel like everything’s just… moving so fast? Like, we’re both figuring things out, but it doesn’t feel bad, just… different?”

Nick thought for a moment. He wasn’t sure he had a clear answer, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah. I think I get it. Things are changing, but… it’s not a bad thing. At least, not for me. But it’s all kind of… new, you know?”

Chas smiled faintly, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah. It’s like we’re both trying to find our footing in this, but I think… I think we’re doing okay.”

Nick nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to his lap for a moment. “Yeah. I think so too.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it carried the weight of things unsaid, of boundaries not yet crossed, and of paths still unfolding before them. Nick stood up, breaking the stillness, offering his hand to Chas. “Want to head to bed? You look like you could use some rest.”

Chas looked up at him, then glanced down at his hand before meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I think I will.”

With a small nod, Chas took his hand and stood up. The night stretched out before them, full of possibility but also uncertainty. Yet, as they walked to their own bedroom.

As they reached the hallway, Nick paused by Chas’s door, releasing her hand gently. “Good night, Chas,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that lingered in the quiet space between them.

Chas turned to face him, her tired smile reaching her eyes. “Good night, Nick,” she replied, her tone light yet sincere.

For a brief moment, they stood there, caught in a shared silence that felt both ordinary and significant. Then Chas opened her door, stepping into her room, while Nick lingered for a beat longer before heading to his own bedroom.

As the doors quietly clicked shut, the house returned to its usual stillness, leaving them both to their private thoughts.

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Chas’s Room

The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated Chas’s small, cozy room. She sat cross-legged on her bed, her journal open in front of her, pen in hand, but the words wouldn’t come. The day had been long and draining—too many coffee orders, too many fake smiles, and far too much time thinking about Martin.

She let out a shaky breath, tossing the pen aside. Leaning back against her pillows, she pulled her blanket over her legs, the weight of the day finally settling in. Her phone lay beside her, the faint glow of the screen showing the group chat with Gigi and Leon. Their texts from earlier still lingered:

Gigi: Can you believe Martin’s new gf? She looks like a Disney princess LOL.

Leon: Yeah, I saw her Insta. Like, how does HE land someone like her?

Chas: Right? Ana looks like she stepped out of a magazine. Guess he upgraded or whatever.

Gigi: You’re too good for him anyway, Chas. He’s a clown.

Leon: Biggest clown.

Chas had laughed along with their teasing, even joined in, throwing in snarky comments about Ana’s perfect hair and impossibly white teeth. But now, alone in her room, the laughter felt hollow.

She wiped at her cheeks, frustrated to find them wet. “God, get over it already,” she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.

But it was easier said than done.

Chas’s mind wandered back to the café earlier that day when she’d overheard two customers talking about their relationships. One of them had gushed about their partner—how thoughtful they were, how loved they felt. And all Chas could think about was how unfair it was that Martin had moved on so quickly while she was still here, stuck in the past.

She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly. “Why does it still hurt?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

It had been a few months since their breakup—Martin, with his easy charm and warm smiles, had been everything Chas thought she wanted. And then it had all crumbled. He’d walked away so easily, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And now, here she was, crying alone in the quiet of her room, while he was out there with Ana, the perfect new girlfriend.

It wasn’t fair.

Chas sniffled, grabbing a tissue from her nightstand and dabbing at her nose. She hated feeling this way—weak, vulnerable, like she was still holding onto someone who clearly didn’t care about her anymore. But the truth was, deep down, some small part of her still wanted him to come back.

She bit her lip, her thoughts spiraling. Maybe if I’d been more patient, or less clingy, or… better somehow, he wouldn’t have left.

The thought made her stomach twist. She hated that she still blamed herself, even though she knew, logically, it wasn’t her fault. But logic didn’t matter when it came to feelings, did it?

Her eyes flicked to her phone again. She wanted to text Gigi or Leon, to distract herself with their jokes and banter, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach out. Instead, she let the silence of the room wrap around her, heavy and suffocating.

Chas let out another shaky sigh, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. She closed her eyes, willing herself to stop the tears, to stop the thoughts, to stop everything. But in the quiet of the night, all she could feel was the ache in her chest and the nagging voice in her head that whispered: You’re still alone.

On Nick's side

Nick’s footsteps were soft against the wooden floor as he walked toward the kitchen, the quiet of the house enveloping him. The clock on the wall ticked faintly, and the dim glow from the hallway light cast long shadows. He was halfway to the kitchen when he paused.

There it was. A sound so faint he almost thought he’d imagined it.

A muffled sob.

He turned his head toward Chas’s door, his brows furrowing. The faint, stifled sound broke through the stillness of the night, tugging at something deep in his chest. For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at her door as the soft cries continued. She was trying to be quiet, he realized, but the pain in her sobs was unmistakable.

Nick swallowed, his hand tightening into a fist at his side. He wanted to knock, to ask if she was okay, to do something. But he hesitated, the weight of uncertainty rooting him to the spot.

What could I even say? he thought.

It wasn’t like her to cry—or at least, not that he’d ever seen. Chas was always full of life, her laughter echoing in the house like a melody. But hearing her like this, so vulnerable, so raw, made Nick’s chest tighten. He hated not knowing what was wrong.

He took a small step toward her door, his hand reaching out halfway before he stopped himself. This was her space, her private moment, and he wasn’t sure if barging in would make things better or worse.

What if she doesn’t want me to see her like this?

Nick let out a soft sigh, his arm falling back to his side as he stared at the door, his jaw tightening. The sound of her sobs was quieter now, almost drowned out by the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen. But he couldn’t shake the ache in his chest, the helplessness he felt just standing there.

“Chas…” he murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible.

For a moment, he debated again, his mind at war with itself. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her she didn’t have to cry alone, but he couldn’t bring himself to cross that boundary. Not yet.

With a heavy heart, Nick finally turned and walked away, heading to the kitchen. The sound of her muffled cries stayed with him, lingering in the back of his mind as he poured himself a glass of water. As he leaned against the counter, sipping slowly, he stared out the window into the dark night, his thoughts clouded with worry.

I’ll ask her tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll just find a way to make her smile again, he resolved silently.

But even as he tried to push the moment aside, Nick couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something more was going on with her—something he wasn’t sure she was ready to share.

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