Everleigh was never one to enjoy many luxuries, but by God, getting picked up from the airport in a nice car with a good driver was enough to make her forget how long that flight felt. Los Angeles wasn't her favourite place in the world—that was actually Edinburgh, specifically the old part of the town—but something about the luxury of being able to relax and not worry she was being kidnapped was really, really nice. (It happened a little too often where Everleigh was continuously on edge after work because she had never been to the city she was in and needed to pay attention to where her driver was taking her. Another reason she'd love to stay in London. Or Edinburgh.) (Everleigh would love to be the nurse with the cute accent too many people thought about after they were gone from her clinic. God damn, she needed to settle down in London. Seriously.)

They got to the recording studio in good time, for LA at least. Everleigh still felt like she was late—she hadn't even taken the time to change because they got delayed an hour. A quick makeup wipe in the car for her face and a swipe of deodorant under her arms was all she'd managed to do to clean herself up in the car before she was told they'd arrived.

Everleigh walked in the studio with her suitcase trailing behind her, Stevie and Seira—another member of MARS, but not one she'd met at the concert; Everleigh might've recognized her from behind if her recently turquoise hair hadn't been dyed back to black—turned in her direction at the sound of the door closing. It reassured her a little that they had also just arrived.

Stevie smiled. "Everleigh! Hi! Perfect timing!" Stevie and Seira walked over to her. "Everleigh, this is Seira. This is Mav's friend I was telling you about."

"And the Scream fanatic," Seira said. "Nice to meet you. Sorry I missed you in Vegas."

"Nice to meet you too! There was a lot happening in Vegas, don't sweat it." Everleigh looked around for a moment. "Sorry if I'm late. We had a delay."

"The least surprising part of this is that you got here before Mav and he was already in Los Angeles," Stevie said.

"Seriously?" Everleigh looked down at herself. Pencil skirt, white button up, blazer. Paired with a stupid red ascot and even worse heels, she looked like a cover girl for some dumb flight attendant weekly magazine. "You mean I had time to change?"

Stevie pointed to a door. "Bathroom right there. We can wait for you!"

"I love you," Everleigh said. "Thank you."

Everleigh dragged her suitcase behind her, tucking into the first bathroom stall and getting changed quickly. A pair of leggings, sneakers, and her stupid Christmas shirt—sue her, she needed to do laundry—had never been more comfortable.

As Everleigh walked out, she immediately started apologizing. Pulling at the hem of the there's some Ho's in this house shirt and trying not to drop her math binder. (Homework was a bitch.) "I'm so sorry, I haven't been home since Christmas, so—" Everleigh looked up to Stevie and Seira, wanting to show she was sincere. Then she noticed Stevie had taken her coat off, which revealed her sweater with the same design as Everleigh's. Everleigh laughed. "Never mind, we're good."

Seira slapped her forehead with her hand. "Not you too."

"Twins!" Stevie giggled.

Everleigh looked at Seira. "I'd say this isn't usually how I make first impressions, but it seems to be the only impression I make on members of your band and groupies alike. So sorry."

"Don't worry," Stevie said, "we love it."

"But do we?"

Stevie slapped Seira on the arm. "Yes. We do." She pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the time. "I'd say we could wait down here for Mav but I'm sure he'll be a while so we can head up."

Everleigh checked her own phone for the time. "Five bucks says he shows up in the next twenty seconds claiming he's slept in."

"Okay, fine." Stevie held out her hand, evidently expecting to win the bet.

Everleigh started a twenty second timer on her phone, which seemed fair. Neither one of them could count too fast or too slow when there was an impartial timer in the running.

Everleigh was beginning to lose faith when, right on the nineteenth second, one Kingston Maverick came sprinting into the building. A mess in a pair of sweatpants he'd clearly thrown on at the last second and a shirt that looked slept in. He hadn't put his glasses on. Cherry on top was the one Converse high top, one tennis show he'd chosen to wear on his feet. All that aside, Everleigh had been right. She didn't say he would show up looking like a functioning human being, she'd simply said he'd be there. And she was right.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Maverick started, "I slept in."

And bingo was her name-o.

Everleigh held her hand out to Stevie.

"You little bitch," Stevie said.

Seira laughed. "Ain't no way."

Stevie pulled her wallet out and handed Everleigh a five-dollar bill. Clearly mad at Maverick for bothering to be his version of on-time, and annoyed with Everleigh for knowing him a little too well. Definitely more than she wanted to admit, that was for sure.

Maverick eyed Everleigh as she pocketed her money. "Did you bet against me?"

"Technically speaking," Everleigh said, "this time I bet for you."

"Don't act like it's weird to bet against you showing up on time," Stevie said.

"I slept in."

"That was actually part of the reason I won," Everleigh said. "Thank you, Kingston."

"Can we go up, please?" Maverick asked.

The four of them started walking toward the elevator to head to their booked recording booth.

"I'm getting back for this," Stevie said.

The elevator ride was quick and quiet. Stevie and Seira stepped out first, walking to where the rest of MARS waited for them. Maverick walked a little ahead of Everleigh, who held her stats binder to her chest and dragged her suitcase behind her. Christ, she needed to get her degree so she could stop bringing her suitcase everywhere with her.

"Hi, besties," Stevie said to the rest of her band.

Jun raised his head to look at the door, a surprised expression dressing his face. "Oh hey, Mav is here."

Maverick frowned. "I'm supposed to be here?"

"Yeah," Lauren chimed in, "but we thought you'd show up in like thirty minutes."

"I would've been here on time—" Maverick started. (Everleigh really didn't mean to snort at him so loudly, but there they were.) "—but my alarm was set for PM, not AM. This one's not on me."

"Who set the alarm?" Everleigh blurted.

Maverick clapped his hands, electing to ignore her. They all knew what answer that meant for Everleigh's question. "Are we going to get started?"

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the incorrectly set alarm clock," Stevie said.

"Oh, give him a break," Rami said.

"Thank you, Ra—" Maverick started.

"Wait until after we've finished this song, please," Rami said.

"Should've slept that extra half hour you all thought I'd take," Maverick said.

"Are both of you wearing Santa shirts?" Lauren asked.

Maverick looked at Everleigh, then at Stevie. Really looked, not just in defense. Everleigh was close enough to him she could hear the "oh my God," he muttered under his breath.

"Christmas isn't in January?" Everleigh asked.

"We're so festive we celebrate it all year long," Stevie said. "Sucks if you're a Grinch."

"Is it being a Grinch if we've been subjected to a month and a half of the same Christmas songs and somehow you're still excited about it?" Maverick asked.

Stevie pulled her phone out, immediately showing Maverick her most recently played Spotify playlist—entirely Christmas songs. "That's exactly what being a Grinch means, actually."

"I'm going to put out such a bad Christmas album it'll never make you want to listen to Christmas music ever again," Maverick said. A promise, not a threat.

"Bold of you to think I'd listen to your music," Stevie said.

"By the way, Stevie," Maverick said a little too pointedly, "I have those concert tickets you wanted."

Everleigh looked around as Maverick and Stevie bickered some more—"Perfect, how many?" "Hope I remembered right that you wanted three, 'cause that's how many I reserved." "Thanks."—mostly ignoring them while she walked over to a couch with a coffee table in front of it. The best spot to set up a binder of math homework in a studio, really. If there was such a thing. ("I thought you were kidding—" Maverick was a terrible whisperer. "I don't know what you're talking about," Stevie said coolly. "You know we're here for work, right guys?" Rami interrupted them.)

A loud clap made Everleigh look up from her newly set-up table after pulling her laptop from her suitcase. Seira tossed her notebook to the side and said, "Okay, time to pretend like we're a functioning group of adults. Let's go."

Rami pulled his headphones off and pressed a key on his laptop. A beat started playing that made Everleigh nod a little to the beat—it was very MARS, very cool. Already shaping up to be another iconic song, Everleigh could tell.

"Something small but I've got this so far," Rami said as the beat played. "What do we think, Mav?"

Maverick nodded his head. "Dude, that's amazing."

Stevie opened up her notebook—Everleigh assumed it was where she wrote songs. The pages were crinkled and from what Everleigh could see, there were a lot of scribbles and notes... a little bit of everywhere. Hey, whatever worked. And it clearly worked for them. "So, I had a couple of lines. I don't know how we feel about them but he played it for me the other day and I just... couldn't stop thinking about Chicago. For obvious reasons."

Everleigh hadn't stayed in her showing of Work, Wife long, but it was enough time to know that it was set in Chicago. Probably where MARS and Maverick met each other, too. It made sense.

Maverick pulled his notebook out, too. Everleigh hadn't noticed it was under his arm amidst the chaos of his arrival. His notebook was plain-looking. Black, nothing too excited. Thick enough that the band around the edges was doing a little too much work to keep the covers closed. There had to be more than song lyrics in there, absolutely. Something else was making those pages three times thicker than they had to be. He had binder clips and paperclips around the edges; there was a quote taped to the front that Everleigh couldn't quite make out from where she sat that looked hand-written. "I had some Chicago too... Great minds and all that."

Everleigh stopped paying attention when they started flipping through their notebooks. She assumed their process would get them to the booth, then she'd listen. No sense in trying to decode what the songwriters were up to.

Everleigh vaguely caught Stevie threatening to punch Maverick in the face not too long after, God only knew why. Given the way he laughed, it seemed justified. Everleigh stared down at her statistics homework, uncapping a pen as she settled against the back of the couch. Shortly after, Everleigh heard Maverick threaten to toss Stevie off the roof. They seemed to be getting along swimmingly; poor Rami playing their babysitter and referee.

After making her way through one singular question, someone sat next to her on the couch. Everleigh looked up from her paper.

"So, what are you up to?" Jun asked, sipping on a tetra pack of Capri Sun. That seemed to be part of his process.

"It's not very exciting," Everleigh said. "Statistics homework."

"You brought... stats homework to a studio?" The expression of Jun's face looked like it went through the five stages of grief in the second pause he'd taken.

"It's not that listening to them bicker isn't entertaining—" Everleigh pointed to Stevie and Maverick with her pen. "—it's that I have a thousand things to do and unfortunately getting this out of the way would be lovely."

Jun covered his mouth with his hand teasingly. "I think I'm going to be sick just looking at it." He poked his head a little closer, looking at the papers that she'd placed in her lap to talk to him. "What are you in school for?"

"Nurse practitioning. Little more... grounded." Everleigh made a face. "Stupid pun, sorry."

In spite of her poor choice of words, she meant it. Some wouldn't trade a skirt for scrubs but Everleigh absolutely would. No ascot could outweigh a stethoscope. And, by God, no heels would ever be better than a pair of comfy sneakers.

Days like that made her wish more than anything that she got to go to her flat and not a hotel room at the end of the day. Everleigh was a little too homesick even though she was really excited to be in the studio.

"Pretty sure they just said there's an Iron Man reference in our new song so I think you're good." Jun took another sip of his juice.

"And you're not all over Kingston making comic book references for little to no reason?" Everleigh didn't have to hear the argument to know it was Maverick. She wasn't even remotely shocked at the superhero reference after listening to his other two albums.

"Best to just let them do their thing when they're—" Jun and Everleigh looked at the rest of the band and Maverick, scribbling vigorously on each other's notebooks. "—like that."

"Must be desperate if you've sat down this close to math homework." Everleigh looked back at Jun.

"It's either math or watch Lauren text Maver so I think I'll just pop a Gravol and power through the math pain," Jun said.

"Well, you're welcome to stay if it's me or him. Truly," Everleigh said. "I can do tech homework if you'd like to learn about medical equipment instead. Much less terrifying than stats."

"It's okay, carry on with the scaries."

Everleigh leaned over and opened the front pocket of her suitcase. "Here—" She rummaged for a moment before holding a pack of Gravol out to Jun. "In case you hear that poor excuse for an actor's name or the stats become overwhelming. Maybe you can take a nap while they're arguing about—" Everleigh listened for a moment. "—what might be the seven deadly sins?"

"I'm... impressed. Thank you." Jun took the package from her as he watched Lauren leave the studio, her phone in hand. The expression on his face shaded, a little too upset to just be about a band member leaving during the creative process. "I think I'll actually do that. Who knows how long they'll be piecing their stuff together."

Everleigh contemplated what she wanted to say before she said it. That was a first. "I'm not in psychology but I can listen if there's something bugging you. Might be better than self-medicating with dimenhydrinate."

Jun hesitated before he spoke again. "I probably shouldn't get between it 'cause—well, just 'cause. I'm sure she's fine. Couples argue, right? It's normal."

The look he gave Everleigh was practically a plead to agree with him. She managed to say, "Normal, sure."

Jun grumbled as he placed the package of Gravol on the couch. "Even when he's not here, Maver finds a way to bring down the mood. It's almost impressive."

Everleigh wrinkled her nose. "Normal doesn't have to mean healthy. Especially when it comes to... him."

"True, I guess. But... I don't know," Jun said. "I'm wondering how much of it is just our bias picking up on the not-so-fun stuff or turning something minor into something worse. You know?"

"Think if she had more good than bad, you wouldn't hate him so much. Biases like that are formed truthfully, mostly."

Jun laughed quietly. Everleigh took that as a win. "Yeah. Definitely not 'cause of my own personal feelings." Jun's eyes widened as he came to the realization he'd said that out loud. "Not that I have any. Forget I said that."

Everleigh's eyebrows raised, then lowered. She swallowed hard as she figured out what exactly she had to say about that bombshell. "Stricken from the record. Secret's safe with me."

"Thank you," Jun said. "You should add MARS therapy to your school credits."

Everleigh laughed. "Can I put you on my CV as a patient reference?"

"Of course," Jun said. "Anything for Mav's friends."

That shouldn't have made Everleigh's stomach turn as much as it did. "I—good. Yeah. Thanks. Um—" Everleigh was really going to say it, wasn't she? "Also stricken from the record? I get it. It sucks, and I get it."

Jun opened his mouth to say something, ignored any and every word that probably longed to be pushed out, and closed his mouth again. When he landed on what he wanted to say, he managed, "My bad. Yes. Forgot what we're talking about already. Just stats, right?" Jun had the kind of smile that let Everleigh know that one was safe with him too; a silent pact served in the form of a charmingly dorky grin.

Everleigh gave him a thankful smile in return. "Definitely stats. Just pure—" She scrolled on her laptop's mousepad to bring the screen back up again. "—finding the mean cholesterol level of heart attack patients and non-heart attack patients. Throwing science out the window just for stats."

Jun threw his head back and groaned. "I'm gonna need two Gravols for this."

The sound of a smack came from where the rest of the band had been sitting. Everleigh and Jun looked over—her first thought that either Stevie or Maverick had snapped and slapped the other one across the face. To her relief, they were simply high-fiving.

Seira walked out of the recording booth. "Where did Lauren go? We're gonna need her for backing vocals."

"She's on the phone outside," Jun said, pushing his knees with his hands as he got up from the couch. "I'll... go get her."

Everleigh watched him walk out. Head sunk a little as he trailed into a wildfire for someone he couldn't tell he had the extinguisher for. A small wave in the corner of her eye brought Everleigh's thought back into the room.

Maverick pointed at Everleigh—Are you. He made a thumbs up with his hand, trailing that in a circle—okay? He'd definitely been working on his ASL.

Everleigh waved her hand at him dismissively. Earning a raised eyebrow from Maverick that was entirely unconvinced.

Everleigh raised her hand, palm facing him before quickly pushing it in his direction—It's. She made circles with her fingers on both hands, moving the hands away from each other, nothing.

"Mav, you're up," Rami said as he typed into his computer.

Maverick didn't move. He raised his index finger into a hook, moving it up and down. Are you sure?

Everleigh signed it's again. She made her hand flat and pressed her thumb to her sternum, fine. A small smile crept through as she pointed both indexes up at the ceiling before bringing them down to point at Maverick, Go. One fist's balled fingers faced the ground, she made a fist with the other hand and touched her wrist to the back of her hand; making a circular motion with her upright fist, work.

Maverick gave her a smile and walked into the recording booth.

"Mic check," Rami said.

"Mic check," Maverick said, putting a pair of headphones on, but keeping one ear out.

Rami gave him a thumbs up. "Good to go."

The music started up, Maverick nodding his head as he settled into the beat. "Did they have sparks like us before 1895 / lot office buildings now, blurry as we fly / Meant to clear my—wait, fuck." Maverick laughed, looking up from his notebook. "I'm sorry, I can't read. Can we start that again, please?"

"It's 'cause your handwriting is shit," Everleigh barely heard Stevie whisper.

"Yeah," Rami said, voice aching like he really needed them to get this over with. "Go ahead."

As the music started up again, Jun returned with Lauren, looking a little worse for wear. He joined Everleigh on the couch again, leaning his head back against the wall behind them.

"Did they have sparks like us before 1895—sorry!" Maverick's laughing was getting louder and harder. "I've got it. This time. I—" He interrupted his laughing with a long sip from a plastic water bottle. "I promise it's this time." Maverick jumped in place like he was getting ready for a penalty kick as he let out another fit of giggles. Professionalism at its finest, really. "One more time?"

Rami muttered something under his breath that Everleigh couldn't quite hear. Probably justified, give the annoyance dressing his voice when he spoke up again. "Yeah, go ahead, Mav. Or do you need a sec to look it over?"

"Yeah, Mav," Stevie said, "do you need to look over the lyrics you just wrote five minutes ago?"

"I take insult to that," Maverick said, "I have an eidetic memory. It's been proven."

"Then, please, get going," Rami said.

"I got it, I got it," Maverick said. "Promise."

Stevie looked over her shoulder at Everleigh. "Five bucks says he doesn't got it."

Everleigh laughed and placed her binder on the table as she stood up. Pulling the five-dollar bill from her pocket, she walked it over and took Stevie's wrist in her hand. She placed the five-dollar bill in Stevie's palm before Maverick could start singing again.

"Well earned," Everleigh said. It wasn't that she didn't have faith in Maverick's ability as a singer. It was that she had no faith in his ability to not giggle like a schoolgirl.

"Did they have sparks like us before 1895—" Lo and behold, the laughing started again. "I'm so sorry. This time. Double promise. Triple promise." Maverick took the headphones off and did a lap of the recording booth. Putting the headphones back on, he leaned into the microphone. "I'm going to do it with my eyes closed—" He took a long sip of water. "—that cool?" Maverick blew air from his lips in a high hum, trying to bring himself back down to earth. Everleigh tried her best not to laugh and set him off again—she didn't need to be in Rami's bad books too.

"Does anyone else want a Capri Sun?" Jun asked, getting up from the couch. "I have another box in the fridge."

Seira kicked her feet up onto the coffee table and leaned back in her seat on the couch. "Sure, I'll take one. This is going to be a long afternoon."

"If you can spare, yes please," Everleigh said.

From the fridge, Jun tossed them both tetras of Capri Sun. Seira and Everleigh easily caught them; the three of them poking straws and taking long sips. Everleigh walked back to her seat on the couch next to Jun.

By the time Everleigh focused back on the booth, Maverick had his eyes closed.

"And... go," Rami said.

As the music started up again, Maverick raised his hands and flicked both of his hearing aids off, headphones around his neck. He did seem to be his own worst distraction—Everleigh assumed blocking out most outside noise would help him concentrate. And did it ever.

There was something to say about the I could do this with my eyes closed idiom that Everleigh never really understood. Maybe it was that she'd met too many surgeons at school and the thought that they thought they could perform with their eyes closed terrified Everleigh to no end.

But with Maverick, it was like no one else existed in the world except him. The lyrics were sharp, and his voice sounded fantastic. Each word and rhyme exactly where it needed to be. Stevie hadn't lied to Everleigh when she said watching Maverick work was an experience. The smile on his face as he sang was an ode to how much he loved his job.

"Did they have sparks like us before 1895 / lot of office buildings now, blurry as we fly / Past, barely even alive / high above Central Park Drive / Lost in the tracks, the train / Meant to clear my brain / nothing distracts from the pain / wish I could hide away,

"Missed my stop / can't just hope / off at any president / 'Scuse me, miss, can you point me toward— / Guess not, lame / don't know my White House residents,

"Anybody have a map? I'm lost / guess taking the L's better than breathing exhaust / Off to Kimball when it should be Jarvis / can someone Iron Man me out of this? / Tony Stark wouldn't have to deal with this shhh—

"If there weren't rules about carpool and speed / We'd be racing out of here like F1, you see / Ain't gotta catch the bus like Sandra and Reeves / already out here pushing it / Pace of my heart exceed— / —ing two-sixty at the Grand Prix." Maverick opened his eyes again, turning his hearing aids back on and holding the headphones to his ear. "Was that okay?"

"Sounded great on my end," Rami said. "Let me play that back, tell me if you like it."

Everleigh looked at Stevie. "Did he say F1—"

"I don't want to talk about it," Stevie said through her teeth. A good hint Everleigh should leave it alone. After a moment, Stevie laughed. Something clearly passing through her brain to relieve the tension in her jaw. "It's okay. We're fine. We're even."

"Oh, this'll be good." Everleigh looked back to Maverick in the booth.

Maverick definitely had an eye on Stevie. The nerves in his voice weren't evident to anyone who didn't know him. Everleigh knew him. "One more time just to fix that little... falter?"

"What part did you hear it?" Rami asked, confusion dressing his voice.

Everleigh caught Maverick's attention. She pointed at him, You. Pointing to her ear with one finger before swinging a flat hand away from her, sound. Fingers to her chin, hand swinging down and slapping the palm of her other hand, good.

Maverick gave her the slightest wince. "Keanu Reeves," he said to Rami. "Can I please g again? I'll make it sound better. Just a tiny... thing. I want to fix it."

Rami shrugged. "All right. One sec and—" He pointed at Maverick that he was good to start again.

Maverick sounded great, Everleigh wasn't sure what the fuck his problem was. Though, she knew enough about being self-conscious that she could see it being something of the like. He looked like he was going to be sick—or like he really had to go to the loo.

"Okay, let me replay again," Rami said. "I think the other one was great but this sounds good too. We can do some kind of comp if we need to."

Maverick listened to it and did his best to wipe the nerves off his face. "Yeah. Sounds good for now. Thank you."

Rami smiled. "Yeah, we got it. This is good, Mav." He turned in his seat. "Stevie, can we get your verses, and then we'll get you both in there together?"

Maverick took his headphones off and walked out of the booth and high-fived Stevie as they switched. Despite whatever sickness he was feeling, Maverick stood beside Everleigh's seat as he turned to listen to Stevie work. (Everleigh really should've just put the stats homework away.) He leaned near the soundboard.

Stevie put the headphones on. "Mic check."

"Mic check," Rami said. "Ready to go when you are."

Stevie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She gave a thumbs up as the music started again. "Figures passing, blurry traffic / lonely on the streets of Chicago / Aimless wandering, no proximity / head and heart in different time zones / We're racing down the highway skyline / false dreams and tarnished gold in sight / If you need me, check the boardwalk / test your luck at Cicero,

"Stop the clock / still I'm lost / just another terrible end / 'Scuse me, sir, can you point me toward— / Never mind / these caving walls are way too thin." Stevie stopped singing and looked at Rami. "Sorry, can we play that back?"

The way Stevie lost herself in a song was different than Maverick—but the love was still clearer than crystal. If Everleigh had synesthesia, her brain would've lit up with pale gold, like champagne bubbles. Each lyric erupted out of the booth, made itself heard. Closed eyed open heart surgery in the form of a song.

Rami pressed a button on his computer. (Everleigh fought the urge to scream about how good she sounded.) "Thoughts?"

"I like the first part," Stevie said. "Could smooth the second part out."

Rami clicked his tongue. Clearly, he'd been through this before. "It sounds good but we can do a couple more takes if you want."

"Yes please." Stevie sang the second verse again, still sounding phenomenal in Everleigh's opinion. "I don't know, the vibrato on thin isn't my favourite."

"Stev," Jun said, "your vibrato couldn't be more uniform if you cut it out with a cookie cutter."

"Let me torture myself with my artistic process, please," Stevie said.

"It sounded great," Maverick said, "but you could try for a note higher if you were game. Might be what you're looking for."

Stevie nodded. "Go again, Rami.

"Stop the clock / still I'm lost / just another terrible end / 'Scuse me, sir, can you point me toward— / Never mind / these caving walls are way too thin," Stevie sang. "Replay, please."

"Good," Rami said, "Very good."

"Maybe one more t—" Stevie started.

"I'm calling bullshit," Rami said. "Next verse. We've got it."

"Fine." Stevie smiled. She shot a look at Maverick and laughed, which earned a semi-strangled noise from his throat. The music started up again. "Steady my feet on this holy ground / catch a flight to my head lost in the clouds / Missed connections and flight attendants—"

Everleigh quirked an eyebrow as Stevie continued singing.

"—all I want for you is to hang around / Turn this lost into a found," Stevie finished. "Okay, replay please."

"Oh, boy," Rami said. "Okay."

Everleigh ventured a look toward Maverick. She wasn't stupid. Leaned her head forward a little, trying to catch even the slightest hint in the corner of his eye. Either Maverick had terrible peripheral, or he was intentionally staring down at the soundboard. Everleigh had a hint it was more the latter. Fists were white-knuckled as he leaned on the edge of the board. She looked back to Stevie and took a sip of the Capri Sun instead of saying anything.

"Was that good, Mav?" Stevie asked.

Maverick nodded with a small sigh, tilting his head up to look at her. "Real great, Stev. Note changes were subtle—" Maverick was not. "Nice work."

"Perfect," Stevie said. "Glad you liked it. I think that take was fine."

Rami sighed in relief. "Starting up again."

"If I knew the rules of love and greed / maybe I could stop this heart that bleeds / Forget what it's like to have lost your company / drown my sorrows / Crowd surf it away tomorrow / on my mark set one two three," Stevie sang. There was a gorgeous high note that Stevie threw in that melded perfectly with the music that backed her. And she fucking knew it, given the grin on her face. "That... I liked that one."

"Me too," Rami said. "Let me replay."

Lauren clapped from her seat as the replay hit their ears. "Geez, Stevie. Save some talent for the rest of us, please."

Everleigh could see Stevie's blush from where she stood. "Says you."

"Great. We got that then." Rami waved over his shoulder. "Mav, can I get you back in there? And don't make any faces at Stevie. You two will just spiral down from there."

The look on Maverick's face narrated better than any other words in the English language how aware he was of the thin ice he walked that was Rami's patience. "Aye, aye, captain." Maverick walked to the booth, decidedly not looking in Everleigh's direction. Actually, pretty obviously avoiding it. And he critiqued Stevie's conspicuousness. Damn. Maverick put the other pair of headphones on when he got in the booth. "Mic check."

Rami gave him a thumbs up and let out a long sigh. He probably needed that. "And... go."

The chorus of the song, which they'd only written less than an hour before, was pristine. It was incredible to hear and amazing knowing that they'd only just sat down and wrote it. Stevie and Maverick's voices blended together in harmonious ways that didn't seem possible given how different the vibes of their respective albums were. Everleigh shouldn't have even been slightly surprised, they were both extremely good at what they did for a living—them both adoring their careers only made them sound better. Collaborations in the music industry would never be the same.

It felt like an ethereal journey, listening to the two of them work. By the time they finished the song, Everleigh felt like she could cry happy tears. She never would've placed a bet six months ago that she'd get to watch her favourite singer and her... her Maverick recording, but there she stood. And the energy was infectious. Everleigh hadn't had that kind of serotonin pumping in her brain in... forever.

"Okay, first chorus is good," Rami said. "Think we can get a high note on that last note for the second one, Mav? And Stevie, drop down a little for it. I think that'll sound good."

"You got it," Maverick said.

Stevie and Maverick sang again. The room lighting up with their electric vocals. They both nodded their heads to the beat, losing themselves in the song.

Until.

There was always an until.

Until Maverick looked over at Stevie and Stevie looked over at Maverick and they both erupted in a laughter that served itself as catastrophic to their productivity.

"What did I just tell you, oh my G—" Rami started.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Stevie said through laughter. "I shouldn't have looked at him. I shouldn't have looked."

Maverick buried his head in his shoulder farthest from Stevie. Failing to muffle his laughter but trying to. "I'm sorry, Rami, I tried so hard—"

"Even Jun doesn't give me this much trouble," Rami said.

"Uh... thanks?" Jun said, "I guess."

Stevie ventured a glance at Maverick again. Laughed harder than she was before. A lot harder than she was before. "Stop it, oh my God."

Maverick leaned down and buried his head in his notebook that sat on the music stand. Badly muffled giggling still making his shoulders shake. "I had it, Stevie, Jesus shit—" Maverick laughed harder.

"Rami, do you think I could go to the bathr—" Stevie started through her laughter.

"If we don't finish these vocals in the next fifteen minutes," Rami said, voice all-too-telling that whatever threat was uttered next was not empty, "I will never let Maverick on another song again."

Seira laughed from her seat. "Y'all are wrecked."

Everleigh covered her mouth with her hand to laugh at that one. She was right.

"Okay, okay, okay. Go ag—" Stevie interrupted herself with a loud wheeze. "—I'm sorry. I'm good." She took a deep breath. "I'm okay, I'm good. Let's go."

Maverick punched the air a couple times as he snorted through a last little fit of laughter. "Yeah, I've got it. Here we go." He turned his hearing aids off again, probably for good measure.

Stevie looked like she was about to be sick the will to laugh was so strong. "Go, Rami. Before I faint."

"Okay." Rami didn't seem the type to want to babysit his band member and featured artist like he had been in their time in the booth. Probably needed something like triazolam and a week's rest after dealing with those two in a professional setting.

Although they lost themselves in the music again, it was in a good way. Rami would live another day kind of good. Some might say great, Everleigh would say phenomenal. The note changes where Rami suggested it made the take even better than the first; he seemed the type to want the best even when he seemed at present to be itching to throw his computer, or himself, out the window.

"How do you like that?" Rami said, playing the song back for everyone to hear. (Maverick switched his hearing aids back on.) "And give me a real answer, Stevie. Don't overthink it. Please."

Maverick, who was obviously fighting snorts that would put his part of the song on the cutting room floor, pulled himself together enough to answer Rami with, "I thought we sounded good."

Stevie, who despite being a founding member of MARS, also seemed to be fighting for her life in the booth, managed, "I loved it. We pulled through. Good job, us."

The high-five that Stevie and Maverick shared was a little too proud for two people who had been in giggle fits from simply looking at each other. But they sounded good, and they knew it.

"Does that mean I get to come back, Rami—" Maverick started. A shit-eating grin on his face. Everleigh shook her head at him. Dumbass.

"You're on thin ice but I'll consider it," Rami said. Which was more than Everleigh would've given him for being such a pain in the ass. Rami sighed and put his headphones back on. "You two can go. Let me play around with this and get Lauren in there."

"Give me like, five minutes," Lauren said. "I should be good."

"No need to show off—" Stevie said.

"I guess we kind of deserved that," Maverick said.

Stevie smiled at Maverick. "I mean, yeah. But I'm not going to admit that."

"It's been recorded, actually," Rami said. "Now get out, please."

Maverick hung up his headphones. "Aye, aye—"

"Nope," Rami said. "Just get out."

"Are you sure we don't need to—" Stevie pushed.

"Say one more word and I'm quitting this band," Rami said.

Stevie and Maverick sprinted out of the booth, eyes wide. The threat lingered in the air right where Rami needed it to.

"You survived," Stevie said to Everleigh as she walked over.

"Watching that was worse than her doing stats homework," Jun said.

Maverick gaped at her. "You brought stats homework to a recording studio?"

"I'm not sure how much free time you think I have, Kingston, but believe me, your snorting was definitely worse than these calculations."

"I think we're both strict professionals," Maverick said. Oh-so full of shit.

Seira laughed loudly. "In what damn world—"

*

[a.n.] Dedicated to Steph: comedic genius, the best writing partner, and future Pulitzer/Grammy winner. Literally the best person ever and an honour to have as a friend. Thank you for all the past laughs and the future ones. Truly the greatest ever. I love you, queen!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Y'all better go give her some love too. ❤️