Laura is never late.
I arrive five minutes early.
She's already there.
Of course she is.
The café is small and bright, sunlight spilling across wooden tables. She sits straight-backed, a porcelain cup of pale tea in front of her.
Always tea.
Always the same.
No sugar.
No milk.
No variation.
I get a mango smoothie.
Because I refuse to drink something that tastes like warm air.
She watches me approach with that soft, assessing expression she always has when she knows I've come with a purpose.
"You look serious," she says calmly.
"I'm not."
"You are."
I sit down.
The ice in my cup clinks too loudly.
For a moment, I almost don't ask.
Then I do.
"Do you think I have what it takes for the duet?"
She doesn't even blink.
"Yes."
I frown slightly. "That was fast."
"It isn't complicated."
"It feels complicated."
Laura wraps both hands around her cup.
"Your voice is clear," she says evenly. "It carries emotion naturally. You blend well with Zane's tone."
"You've analyzed it."
"Of course."
I hesitate.
"But?"
She tilts her head slightly.
"You hesitate before you commit."
That lands.
"I don't want to ruin it."
"You won't."
"How do you know?"
She holds my gaze steadily.
"Because you care too much to ruin it."
That's kind.
Warm.
Safe.
I stir my smoothie slowly.
"Did you ever doubt yourself?" I ask.
She doesn't answer immediately.
"When I competed?" she says finally. "Constantly."
"And?"
"I performed anyway."
No drama.
No elaboration.
Just fact.
"Do you think I could carry a whole song?" I ask quietly.
This time, she studies me longer.
"Yes."
The answer is the same.
Calm.
Certain.
"But not yet," she adds gently.
My chest tightens slightly.
"Why not?"
"Because you don't believe you can."
It's not harsh.
Just observant.
Silence settles between us.
She takes another sip of tea.
I watch her.
"Why do you always drink that?" I ask suddenly.
She glances at her cup.
"It's simple."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
I laugh softly. "That's such a Laura answer."
She smiles faintly.
"You complicate enough things for both of us."
I grin.
But the thought lingers.
Simple.
Structured.
Predictable.
That's how she lives.
That's how she leads.
She leans forward slightly.
"You don't need to compete with Zane."
"I'm not."
"You are."
I sigh.
"I just want to know I'm good."
"You are."
"But that's your opinion."
"It's informed."
That makes me laugh.
"I trust you," I admit.
"I know."
"And Axel."
"I know."
"And Zane."
There's the smallest pause at his name.
Not disapproval.
Just awareness.
"You are not alone in this," she says carefully.
That's the thing.
I'm not.
And maybe that's part of the problem.
They love me.
They protect me.
They believe in me.
But they don't push me past my fear.
Zane does.
Laura doesn't challenge me.
She steadies me.
Axel shields me.
Zane unsettles me.
I sip my smoothie quietly.
"Laura?"
"Yes?"
"One day, I want to carry a whole song."
She doesn't look surprised.
"I know," she says softly.
The confidence in her voice almost makes it real.
Almost.
—
When we leave the café, she walks beside me like she always has.
Steady.
Composed.
Certain.
And I realize something gently.
They love me.
Deeply.
But they built me inside safety.
And maybe—
I'm ready to test myself outside of it.