Eddie woke up and she didn't recognize her surroundings but something about what seemed to be a drying vomit mark on the unfortunate shag rug beneath the unfamiliar bed she laid in did trigger something in the middle of her pounding headache. There weren't many identifying features in the bedroom. A few framed photos of nature—gorgeous, she had to admit—and a couple plants tucked into corners. The bedsheets were charcoal grey and went well with the darker beige walls. Everything about the room was pretty plain and maintained. Nothing was out of place, spare the clothes left out on a dresser, but they were folded if nothing else. It was almost passable until Eddie saw a picture of herself. Framed. As threatened, as promised. It was still creepy even with other boxers framed around her.

"Oh, fuck—" Eddie groaned, putting her head in her hands. She tossed the bedsheets off herself and got out of the bed. Taking quick note she was absolutely wearing the same clothes that she had been while she was wandering around aimlessly some odd hours prior. At least she had that going for her.

It might have been the obscene hangover she had but Eddie had never woken up to someone whistling Mick & Moxie's Ghost in their kitchen before and she never wanted to again. (Not because the song was bad—quite the opposite, actually.) (More because whistling was annoying as was the whistler.) Poking her tongue in her cheek, the taste of death in her mouth, Eddie crossed her arms. Wiggling his ass to the music only playing in his head wearing a pair of Red Sox boxers was a look and a half. Hair that stuck up in a way only a couch could've styled. Definitely hadn't noticed her walking into the room.

"Hi." Eddie's voice sounded horrendously disgusting.

Axel jumped and turned around. The dumbass had on a shirt that said Your dad is my cardio across the chest, so Eddie wasn't sure who was in worse shape that morning. "You're awake."

"Sort of."

"Did you take the Aspirin—"

"There was Aspirin—"

"On the nightstand—guess not." Axel held a frying pan up. "I have breakfast if professional athletes eat that kind of stuff. Don't ask me about the nutritional value, there's frozen hashbrowns involved. Put an avocado or something on it if you care that much."

"Thank you."

"There's clothes in the room for you," Axel said. "Thought you might want to get out of those but I wasn't going to make you. I still have laundry to do if you want anything thrown in with it."

"Laundry this early?"

"One, it's noon. Breakfast is a figure of speech." Axel shoved a couple hashbrowns onto two plates, beside a sandwich piled high with too much shit Eddie didn't want to consider the contents of. "Two, it's going to take at least one wash to get the rest of the vomit off my shoes."

"I thought I dreamt that." Did that mean she didn't dream... other parts of the interaction?

"That's a dream to you?"

Eddie frowned. "Guess not."

"No shame. You seemed... upset. About something," Axel said. Pushing the plate toward her. "I would've brought you to yours but..."

"You don't know where I live."

"That..." Axel took a bite of hashbrown and pushed it to the side of his mouth. "And you refused to tell me because of the legally binding clause that is, you guessed it, stranger danger."

(The word danger had never sounded more like the word ninja in the history of those two words, dear God.)

Eddie groaned. "Jesus Christ."

Axel held his hands up. "I respect it."

"You're very... chill about this."

"I had a lot of time to think when I wasn't sleeping on the couch," Axel said, "because sleeping on a couch feels the closest to sleeping on a fuckin' wheat thin I think I'll ever be."

"A wheat thin?" Eddie raised an eyebrow. Scoffed.

"You ever eaten a wheat thin?"

"Of course."

"It's like a cheap shitty futon for... squeeze cheese."

"What the fuck is wrong with you—"

"You were also walking around at two o'clock in the mornin', Yamaguchi." Axel took a long drink straight from a carton of orange juice in a way that was the most straight white man who lives alone way Eddie had ever witnessed someone do in her entire life. "For the record."

"I wasn't getting a slushie."

"Slushies are good any time of the day." Axel ate another couple bites of breakfast. "And your bread's getting cold and not toasty. And it's really mean of you to let your bread get cold and not toasty when I made it for you and gave you my bed for the night and didn't sleep because of it. So. Stranger danger or not, eat your breakfast. It's important. Aspirin is important too."

"It's all the way in the bedroom."

"Fine. You eat, I'll grab it." Axel walked around the counter.

"What's on this?" Eddie asked, eyeing the sandwich.

"I present to you—" Axel pushed the plate toward her a little more. "Avatar: The Last Airbender. Enjoy."

"What?"

"Avocado, tomato, lettuce, aioli."

"What?"

"ATLA."

"Who the fuck eats aioli for breakfast?"

"It's noon." Axel waved a hand at her. "So eat."

Eddie grudgingly took the plate and turned around. "You don't have a dining room table."

"That's what the couch is for. There's a coffee table in front of it and everything."

"Why don't you have a table—"

"Did you not hear that there's avocado on that sandwich?" Axel asked. "You can't have both. And I live by myself anyway, come on now. Be realistic."

"You chose avocados over—"

"Dining tables are overrated, now please go sit on the couch and eat so you have something to vomit if you're as hungover as I expect you are." Axel began to walk toward his bedroom. It was hard to ignore the eggs and bacon printed on his socks.

Eddie rolled her eyes. "Are you going to put some pants on while you're in there?"

Axel looked down. Shrugged a little. "This is my apartment. And I honestly thought you'd sleep longer."

"That doesn't make it better—"

"They're basically shorts."

"I'm not sure that's true."

"Better start eating, I want to hear about why you were roaming the streets last night."

"Part time sex worker."

Axel poked his head out of the bedroom. "Really?"

Eddie glared at him.

Axel made a face and ducked back into his room. "There's nothing wrong with that. Would be good cardio."

"Can I be the first to mention the photo of me you have in there?" Eddie asked. Admitting defeat and walking over to the couch. Still littered with a thin blanket and pillow.

"I told you about that... almost immediately. Not my fault you didn't believe me. Rush is on that wall too—and Bo." Axel walked back into the room, reading the label on the Aspirin bottle. He past the counter again and opened the fridge, taking out orange juice and pouring a glass. Quickly grabbing his plate and joining her on the couch, placing the cup on a coaster with Princess Leia's face on it, and the Aspirin bottle beside it. "For you."

"Is that the juice you just drank out of?"

Axel made a face. "No. This is the guest juice."

"Guest juice?"

"I have my juice and I have guest juice."

"Maybe that's why there's no table." Eddie took a bite of her sandwich. Which was, annoyingly, fucking delicious.

Axel wrinkled his nose at her mockingly. "Ha. Look at her. Wide awake and telling jokes. And not the story I wanted."

"You think because I slept in your bed last night that you deserve a story?" Eddie asked. She drank from the glass and threw back a couple Aspirin. "It's not a nice thing if you expect something in return."

Axel tilted his head back and forth. "I couldn't sleep last night. There was a song idea in my head, but it wasn't fully formed. It was... a concept, not a full thing. And sometimes a slushie helps make it come out. That's why I was out. Not hard to be an open book—don't have to read the whole thing, just want to read the page it flipped open to."

"Did it help?" Eddie would take her book and throw it into the ocean. Pray it sunk and never washed up on a beach for wandering eyes. She wanted to dissolve away into a masterpiece of a manuscript that nobody got to read. Make a name for herself without the story being published.

Axel winced. "Sort of. This is why I need Mav. He's better at this."

"He's got a lot of practice."

Axel raised his eyebrows. "Sometimes his process is weird. And I don't mean the weed smoking because that is an enigma because I don't understand how he can have so much lung capacity with how often that man smokes."

"He has a process?" Eddie asked. She took another bite of her sandwich.

"Most artists do."

"Mav isn't most artists."

"He'll... Well, when he gets stuck, he'll lay on the floor for hours at a time," Axel said. "Nobody's allowed in there if he's having a bad one. It's... not good to see. It's... well it's not Mav. You know. It's like anti-Mav. But then she'll let herself in. Talk with him for a bit. Next thing you know, he writes one of the greatest love songs ever created and it's like he wants to pretend the cave-in never happened because he found an alternative exit."

"And your process is..." Eddie trailed off.

"Two in the morning slushies."

"Is it always the ones that make you look like you blew a Smurf?"

"Can it at least be Papa Smurf?"

"Pardon—"

"They don't have blue raspberry anymore," Axel said, "gotta improvise. We're talking a lot about my slushie and not about you."

"I always have to talk about me," Eddie said. "I'm taking the morning off."

Axel shovelled the rest of his hashbrown into his mouth. "Going to be real gross that we're sitting here in silence and eating but fill your boots."

Eddie took a gigantic bite of her sandwich. Glared at him.

Axel smirked a little bit as he ate his second hashbrown.

Eddie wasn't going to lose this. There was a shining determination in his eyes that she wanted to see crumble into nothingness. The problem was that Axel seemed a thousand times more content with sitting in an almost silence that was only interrupted by the insufferable sound of chewing.

It didn't help that Axel was bouncing his leg as he ate. Jittery, a little anxious. Normally Eddie didn't mind, but Axel's couch was more a loveseat and his bouncing was making the entire couch bounce. She could only stand it for so long. Axel took his time biting into the toasted bread of his sandwich. Being a general pest.

"Fuck—Okay!" Eddie said. "I had a rough fucking night—and if you make any kinky sex jokes, I will punch you in the fucking nose—and I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk and suddenly I was in the middle of buttfuck nowhere being tormented by a man with smurf all over his face."

"Pretty sure it was just my mouth." Axel smiled. "And I'm pretty sure I'm the best person you could've run into at two o'clock in the morning."

"Best?" Eddie asked. "Or just... not the worst?"

"You puked on my rug when you got here," Axel said. "I think I deserve the title of best."

Eddie rolled her eyes. "Isn't intoxication a viable defense for my actions in court?"

"This is court?"

Eddie didn't mean to let her eyes dart up to Axel's hair. "Legally Blonde?"

"I wish I was Elle Woods. I didn't get into Harvard," Axel said. "Only MIT."

"You got into MIT?"

"What?" Axel asked. And Eddie walked right fucking into it. "Like it's hard?"

"It is." Eddie nodded. "Isn't it like a 20 percent acceptance rate?"

Axel smirked.

Eddie groaned. "Go ahead."

"Five percent."

Her eyes widened. "Five percent? And you got in?"

"Implying something?"

Eddie took another bite of her sandwich. Stayed quiet.

"I know people."

"Who?"

Axel laughed. "People."

"Who?"

"Why?" Axel asked. "You lookin' to get into MIT?"

"I barely graduated high school," Eddie said, shaking her head. Bad idea with a headache. "University is not for me."

"Between us," Axel said, "I dropped out halfway through my first semester."

"What did you want to study?"

"Aeronautical engineering." Eddie must've had a bad poker face because Axel chuckled into his last bite of hashbrown. "Um. Comparative media studies. Actually. A... fuckin' arts degree at an institute of technology. Fuckin' childish."

"How's it childish to work toward a degree an institution is offering?"

"It's..." Axel stumbled. His first sign of being human. First sign of looking scared to answer something. First sign of fright that his book maybe isn't for everyone to read. He shook his head. "It's stupid. And it's fine. I think I've made a pretty good living without it. So it doesn't matter. I mean, I have music and I have photography. I mean—I mean, I did the cover of last year's swimsuit Sports Illustrated. That's important, right? In... in theory. Sort of. But—but I did it. I did all of that. By myself. And—and that's good. It's good."

"Hey—"

"Please don't."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

Axel shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.

Eddie bit her tongue. Tried to convince herself that he didn't need a subject change. Watched in real time as he wouldn't meet her eye.

"Can I ask you a question that has nothing to do with MIT?"

"You can ask me..." Axel chuckled a little. "...almost anything you want, Akuma."

"I recognize..." Eddie placed her plate down on the coffee table. "I was... perhaps, a little... over the legal limit last night."

"Perhaps."

"Which has impaired... part of my memory, I hope."

"I slept on the couch, I promise. Scout's honour."

"That's..." Eddie sighed. "Did I try to kiss—"

"No."

"—you? That was quick."

"Skipping the middle man. No way, no how. You did not try to kiss me." Axel scoffed. Flicked his hand her way. "Why would you do that? I just finished Papa Smurf, I'm not the kind of person to go for another in the same day—"

"Enough. I must've... dreamt it... or—" Eddie stumbled. "I don't know. There was a lot going on. I was going to apologize, but."

"What are you doing for the rest of your day besides, you know, vomiting?"

"I need a Gatorade. I'm supposed to do cardio today."

Axel raised an eyebrow at her.

"Shut up."

"I said nothing."

"Put your plate over—"

"You know what, Yamaguchi, it's morning, not you—"

"Foul."

"What's on your agenda and do you want to come to recording if you have nothing?"

Eddie sat back a little in her seat. "You want me to come to the recording studio with you?"

"Thought it might be better than sitting by yourself in a bar somewhere." Somehow his accent got thicker. She didn't know that was possible. Didn't think that was possible. "Mav'll be there. Can you annoy him so he's not reading over my shoulder while I'm trying to write?"

"So there is an ulterior motive."

"Well. Sort of. I'm hoping Leigh's there to distract him. But he's a performer, he'll probably not want to work while anyone else is there. Secrecy and all. I don't know."

"You don't want him to work?"

"I need him to let me write the thing and he can edit later," Axel said. "I can't do it while he's looming."

"My plans were puking and walking the dog."

"And cardio."

"And cardio."

Axel got up and walked over to the kitchen counter. Typed quickly on his phone.

"Should I be concerned—"

Axel held his finger up and waited a moment. A small buzz sounded. "Rush is walking your dog."

"How do you know Rush has a key—"

Axel looked up from his phone and smiled. "You're not as subtle as you think you are. Out of everyone at the bar table? He was the obvious choice."

"Rush is a nuisance."

"He's got a key to here, too."

"And?"

"And he's got your dog, so..." Axel looked like he was doing math in his head. It looked painful. "We walk to the studio, that's cardio. And we get there and hopefully my favourite nurse is there so if you need to vomit, she's got you. Check, check, and... check. You're welcome. I'm a miracle worker."

"That's not..."

"Come on."

*

Eddie thought her lowest points were any one of her notable concussions, or even the hangover she had that morning when she shouldn't have been the one feeling like absolute ass. Turned out, her lowest point was walking into the studio wearing a shirt that said I'm a virgin (this is an old t-shirt) across her chest.

Axel held the door open to the studio for her. He didn't need a password to get in, the studio knew him. In fact, the person at the reception practically fell out of their chair when they saw him. And he was in stained sweatpants and another stupid graphic tee. Eddie filed in quickly behind him—no more peace up, A-town for her.

Eddie kept her head down and she wasn't sure if it was because she didn't want to see other peoples' achievements or because she was going to legitimately throw up if another light turned on.

Axel held the door open for her again.

Eddie stepped through as Maverick started singing. It sounded like he was in the middle of the song. The music was lively, upbeat. Maverick at his finest. There was no denying they walked in at the denouement of the song. "I promise I'll always write / 'cause you and me, we made this life / We'll always have our poetry / Can't wait to see what we'll leave / behind, but baby, don't you worry / There's no rush, we're in no hurry."

How Everleigh was sitting on the floor, studying, was beyond Eddie. She was almost certain she'd be in tears. And Eddie didn't like to cry. Axel walked over to her and gave her a small fist pound. Axel sat at the empty chair in front of the soundboard. Maverick gave him a small nod.

A bark interrupted the last of Maverick's romantic soliloquy. Maverick didn't look mad when his eyes widened. He looked like he was having a vision in an older Disney show. He scooped up his dog in his arms—why the dog was in the booth with him was something Eddie didn't even want to know—and held him close to the microphone.

"Can you do that again, Dewmaster?" Maverick asked. "Come on, please?"

Eddie leaned against the wall as Dewey barked again. His eyes lit up.

"Atta boy."

Maverick put him back down and walked out of the booth. Well. Ran out of the booth. Practically hip-checked Axel to get on the soundboard himself. Maverick moved a couple switches, pressed a couple buttons. Grinned. Pressed a playback button.

How in the hell Maverick heard a dog bark and thought this is a symphony was beyond Eddie's comprehension, but by God did the beat he made from it sound great in the background of his song.

"Hope you compensate him for that," Everleigh said. Not even looking up from her notes.

Maverick pulled a dog treat out of his pocket. Tossed it to Dewey, who joined them in the main part of the studio. "Better?"

"You're going to make more money on this than treats you're giving him," Everleigh said. "Can't believe you're using our son for profit."

"How's your doctoral thesis on my ears going?"

Everleigh glared at him. "When I bury your corpse I'm going to plant endangered species over it so they can't legally dig you up and give you an autopsy."

"And that is why we get eight hours of sleep per night."

"I need to study."

"At least I have a witness—" Maverick turned around. Probably so Everleigh couldn't attack him from behind. "Witnesses—Eddie?" Maverick looked at Axel. "You brought Eddie."

"I found her walking around with nothing else to do," Axel said, shrugging. Wasn't entirely a lie. He just didn't state when he found Eddie.

"Walking around with nothing to do is a better reason to be in the studio—" Everleigh started.

"You need fresh air and cannot get your doctorate if you fuckin' die from hotel room suffocation." It was clear Maverick and Everleigh had this conversation already. That they had possibly had it many times. "Jesus fucking Christ, Meadowlark."

Everleigh flipped Maverick off.

Maverick returned the gesture.

"Love you," Everleigh said.

"Love you too," Maverick said. He turned to Eddie again. "Hello. Welcome to the studio. Again. This is my love and my dog. Take a seat wherever but be aware of biting. Not from Dewey. He's friendly."

Everleigh scoffed. "Shut the fuck up, Kingston. Jesus Christ."

Maverick smiled. Like that was the most romantic thing he'd ever heard. "What do you have for me, Axe man?"

"Um. Words?" Axel shrunk in his seat. (Admittedly, at his smallest, he was probably still taller than Maverick.) (Fine. And Eddie.)

"You sound unsure."

Axel and Maverick both eyed the notebook Axel had dropped on the soundboard. Looked back at each other. Somehow, Maverick grabbed the book before Axel. That was more a commentary on Axel's lack of athleticism, Eddie figured. Almost anyone could beat Maverick at anything. All they had to do was say the words I bet you and it was almost a full 100 percent success rate.

Axel assured it was only a 99.9 percent success rate.

Eddie had a feeling Everleigh would find a way to get extra credit and bring it up to 101 percent. Or something. She gave overachiever vibes.

Maverick held Axel's head in place before he could get out of the chair. Read the book an arm's length away. The expression on Maverick's face wasn't going to win him any Academy Awards for how good of an actor he was.

Maverick snapped the notebook shut. Grinned. So wide it probably hurt. "We're making this."

"Mav—"

"You can't make a pre-chorus include the term kill me now and not think I want to make it with you," Maverick said. "That's like holding out a sparkling raspberry lemonade in front of Everleigh."

Axel chuckled. It wasn't a joke, but there was clearly something he knew that everyone else in the room didn't. First time for everything.

"I'm not a fucking dog, Kingston."

Dewey climbed onto her lap and she sighed. The small prince of overdramatic irony.

"Hello. I'm trying to work."

Dewey licked her cheek.

Everleigh dropped the pages of study guide in her hands and pulled him up to her chest. Silently sat back and, although nobody in the room was allowed to mention it, finally took a break. She kissed the top of his head and scratched behind his ears. Content. Having a moment to herself that seemed like it was far overdue.

(Eddie was going to ignore the niggling memory at the base of her skull of Donny telling her about an old friend.) (The least she could do was pretend she didn't know information from prior to meeting Everleigh the night before.) (By God, how had it been less than 24 hours?) (Weight of the world on her shoulders... Ended up breaking down.) (Eddie refused to meet anyone's new partner ever again if it led to existential crises.)

Maverick gave her a small smile. He looked at Axel quickly before he opened the notebook again. Grabbed a pen from, casually, the pocket of his hoodie. Eddie was pretty sure Maverick had never studied at the University of Edinburgh, but that was none of her business. Not that his cut off jean shorts were really any better to hold a pen. He wrote quickly. "Were you hiding this one from me?"

Axel shook his head. "I wrote it last night. Couldn't sleep."

Maverick chuckled. "Midnight slushie fix it?"

"Dawn slushie. But yes."

"That's probably why you wanted to kill yourself," Everleigh said.

"You work at dawn sometimes," Maverick said.

"And, on occasion, it makes me want to kill myself." Everleigh cuddled Dewey a little closer. "Because we're not supposed to be awake at that time. Neither of you seem to know that."

"That's... fair enough," Maverick said. "But I wrote that song last night, too."

"It was..." Everleigh rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"That means good for all witnesses present," Maverick said. A completely different person than Eddie had met up with in the studio before. Blah blah, something else to say about how Maverick in love was the greatest version of himself, blah blah. As if they needed more evidence.

"Eddie knows you're supposed to sleep properly, right?"

Eddie laughed. "I might be the worst offender here."

Axel hid a laugh behind his hand. Eddie was pretty sure she only noticed because she was looking at him. Which led to the disgusting realization that she was looking at him. She looked away.

"I do love a three in the morning walk with the dog."

"You guys truly need to sleep more. All three of you."

"Teach us your ways, doctor," Axel said.

Everleigh smiled. "Not a doctor yet."

"As if there's a doubt you're going to pass your defense."

"Okay, in the booth with you." Maverick swatted a hand at Axel. "Bye."

"I have like... one verse."

Maverick shook his notebook at him. "I just wrote it."

Axel's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Right now?"

"I work fast. Edit as you see fit."

"I can't edit if I can't read it."

Maverick whacked Axel in the shoulder with his notebook. "Get in the booth. Friggin' dickhead. I just wrote you a song."

Axel laughed and grabbed the notebook from Maverick. Stood up and walked into the booth.

Maverick pressed a button on the soundboard. "Walking around?"

"Aimlessly," Eddie said.

Maverick hummed. "Like. This morning?"

"Totally."

"Within this hour?"

"Within an hour."

"That's different than this hour."

"Mic check." Axel had his headphones over one ear. Bent down, probably trying to read Maverick's terrible chicken scratch handwriting.

Maverick narrowed his eyes at her before he looked back to Axel. Eddie kind of wanted to punch the smirk off his face. She couldn't quite tell if Everleigh would fight her on it or not and she was kind of scared she would—something about Everleigh gave Eddie the vibe that she could scrap. Probably knew all the places that could kill her instantly when whacked. Eddie decided to shove him in the shoulder instead.

Maverick let out a small laugh and pressed a button on the sound board. "Mic check."