The sun was dipping low outside the tall windows of Zane's penthouse, casting warm amber light across the hardwood floor. The place was quieter than usual. No music. No chatter. Just the low hum of city noise outside — distant enough to feel separate from everything.
Sunny sat cross-legged on the couch, a half-empty mug of matcha cradled in her hands. Zane was in the open kitchen, pretending to be focused on arranging snacks for the party later, but his eyes kept drifting back to her.
She caught him staring for the third time and gave a tiny, knowing smile.
"What?" she asked, voice soft, teasing.
He shrugged, leaning against the counter. "Just wondering if you're gonna wear that tonight."
She looked down at her oversized sweatshirt and bare legs. "Tempting, I know."
Zane grinned. "You'd still outshine everyone."
Sunny rolled her eyes, cheeks pink. "I'm not dressing to outshine anyone."
"No," he said, walking over and plopping onto the couch beside her. "But maybe you should dress to make me jealous. That'd be fun."
She gave him a light nudge with her shoulder. "You're impossible."
"And yet, you're still here," he said, letting his head fall gently onto her lap.
Her fingers moved into his hair without thinking, brushing through it slowly. It was always soft. Lighter than it looked.
Zane closed his eyes, just for a moment. "You're dangerous, you know."
"Mm?"
"Acting all shy and sweet, then casually doing things like this…" His voice dropped a little. "How's a guy supposed to stay cool?"
Sunny chuckled under her breath. "I don't think you've ever been cool."
Zane opened one eye. "That's slander. And I'm filing a lawsuit."
"You'd lose."
They stayed like that for a while. Quiet. Comfortable.
Sunny let her gaze wander around the penthouse — spacious, modern, slightly messy in the corners. A place meant to impress, but it felt... oddly lived in now. Like a part of her had seeped into it too.
It was strange, being in a real relationship. Stranger still that it was with someone like him — Zane, the overconfident, all-eyes-on-me, spotlight-hungry star. He flirted with cameras, waltzed through chaos, and still somehow remembered exactly how she liked her tea.
She never expected gentleness from someone like him.
But he gave it freely.
And that, more than anything, made her feel like maybe she wasn't dreaming.
Zane stirred beneath her fingers, looking up at her again. "Hey," he said. "Don't overthink what to wear. You'll look good in anything. But if you're really stuck... go with the yellow dress."
She arched a brow. "You remember the yellow dress?"
"Sunny, I remember everything you wear. I'm very detail-oriented when it comes to my girlfriend."
He said it so casually. My girlfriend. The words still made her heart flutter.
She looked away, biting back a smile. "Alright. Yellow dress."
"Perfect," he said, stretching with a satisfied hum. "Now come help me figure out how many chips are too many chips."
Sunny laughed. "If you're asking, it's already too many."
---
By the time the sun had fully dipped behind the skyline, Zane's penthouse was awash in golden lamplight and low, pulsing music. The kind of atmosphere that made everything feel both cinematic and vaguely unreal. A few familiar faces milled about — musicians, producers, influencers. A low-key crowd by Zane's standards, but still enough to make Sunny feel like all eyes might swing her way at any second.
She stood near the kitchen island, dressed in the yellow dress Zane liked. It fit her snugly at the waist, the fabric soft and slightly shimmery. She wasn't used to this much skin. Or this much attention.
"Damn, Sunny," came a voice from the hallway.
Amelia appeared in sleek boots and a cropped, ruffled blue top, already halfway through a soda, sunglasses still on indoors like she was half-joking and half-committed to the aesthetic. She sauntered over with a grin.
"The fans are gonna explode. You two are way too powerful," she said, pointing between her and Zane like they were some headline couple.
Sunny flushed. "It's not like we announced anything."
"Please. You exist. That's enough. You have no idea how long people have been shipping this. The fan edits are gonna triple by tomorrow."
Zane leaned over Sunny's shoulder from behind, sliding a hand gently along her back. "Think we should give them something to really scream about?"
Amelia smirked. "Not unless you want a thousand gifs of you two kissing in every comment section for the next year."
Sunny laughed — a little breathless, but genuine. The warmth of Zane's hand at her back helped. It reminded her she wasn't doing this alone.
Still... she could feel the subtle weight of eyes on her as more guests arrived. Even when no one was actively staring, the idea of being watched lingered — like a soft buzz behind her thoughts. She sipped her drink and tried to breathe. You belong here. You're not just "his girlfriend." You're Sunny.
She was still telling herself that when the elevator chimed.
Everyone turned, just a little. Not in expectation — just out of reflex.
And then… there they were.
Laura stepped into the room first, sleek in black, hair loosely tied back. She didn't look like someone who loved parties. She looked like someone who'd prepared for one anyway. Axel followed behind her, a half-step closer than usual. They didn't hold hands, didn't speak, but the space between them spoke volumes.
Zane blinked in surprise beside Sunny. "Huh."
"What?" she asked.
"I didn't think they'd come," he said. "Especially not together."
Sunny glanced toward Laura again. Her posture was composed, chin slightly lifted — but her eyes flicked toward Axel now and then, like she was anchoring herself. And Axel… he was being quietly protective. Watching the room. Never straying too far from her side.
They hadn't said anything official. But something between them had shifted. Sunny could feel it.
Amelia leaned in. "Well, well. I guess you're not the only power couple in the room."
Sunny snorted. "I wouldn't go that far."
Amelia gave her a wink. "Come on. I give it five more months before you're all dropping a collab album called Lovestruck or something equally cursed."
Zane raised his glass. "To cursed albums."
They laughed, but Sunny's gaze wandered back toward Laura. Their eyes met — briefly.
Laura gave a small nod.
Sunny returned it, just as small.
---
The party had picked up — voices louder, bass a little deeper in the floorboards. At some point, Sunny lost track of Zane in the crowd. He had ducked off to greet a late-arriving producer, and Amelia was holding court with a couple of musicians near the record wall.
Needing a breath, Sunny stepped out onto the balcony. The city lights stretched beneath her like stars had spilled over the concrete. A cool breeze lifted the hair at her neck, and for a moment, the noise behind her dimmed.
She exhaled.
That was when they joined her.
Two men — maybe in their late twenties, both dressed like they were still trying to be relevant. Industry types, or close enough. One wore a smirk like it was a suit; the other looked her up and down in a way that made her stomach tighten.
"Hey," said the first, sliding a little too close. "You're Sunny, right? Zane's girlfriend?"
She offered a cautious nod.
"Didn't expect someone like you to go for someone like him," the second said with a low chuckle. "I mean, damn — you could have anyone."
Sunny stiffened, her fingers curling slightly around her glass.
"He's not exactly boyfriend material," the first one added, like he was doing her a favor by saying it. "Used to be a mess, back in the day. Still kind of is, no?"
They leaned in slightly, their tone low, coaxing.
"Seriously. You think this thing with him's actually gonna last?"
"You deserve someone better, you know. Someone who could treat you right."
Sunny felt her throat tighten. She wanted to walk away — to say something sharp and final. But the words tangled, half-formed. These kinds of men… they always twisted things, always knew how to make you feel like you were the one being rude.
She took a small step back.
But she didn't have to answer.
A third voice cut through the air — calm, precise, and unmistakably Zane.
"If you're gonna flirt," he said from the balcony doorway, "at least don't insult my girlfriend to her face."
The words weren't loud. They didn't need to be. His tone sliced cleaner than any shout would have.
The two men turned, a flicker of discomfort breaking through their smugness. Zane stepped forward, his presence filling the space — not aggressive, just undeniably there.
"Or better yet," he added, gaze cool, "don't show up where you're not wanted."
Neither man spoke. They looked at each other, then mumbled something about "just talking" before slipping back inside.
Zane didn't chase them. He didn't look away from Sunny.
"Hey," he said gently, voice low now. "You okay?"
Sunny nodded. It was tight. Not entirely true. But his hand reached out, palm open.
She took it.
Without another word, he led her back inside — not pulling, not rushing. Just with her.
And in that silence between them, she realized something:
He hadn't gotten angry to prove anything. He hadn't made a scene.
He had just… protected her.
And it meant more than any grand gesture ever could.
---
They didn't go back to the party.
Zane led her upstairs instead — to the rooftop of his building, where fairy lights stretched above a cozy little seating area he sometimes used to write lyrics or watch the stars. It was quieter up here. Still warm from the city's pulse, but peaceful.
Sunny sat down on one of the cushions, wrapping her arms loosely around herself. Zane didn't push her to speak — just sat beside her, close but not crowding.
"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "About those guys. That shouldn't have happened."
She shook her head. "It's not your fault."
"Still," he said, "I hate that it happened. Hate that you had to hear that crap."
Sunny stared ahead, past the balcony edge, where the skyline glimmered like a second galaxy. Her voice was small when she finally replied.
"I'm not used to being looked at like that… like I'm just some pretty thing hanging off someone cooler." She paused. "Or... more important."
Zane's jaw clenched for a second, but he didn't speak. He listened.
She turned slightly toward him. "I've always been kind of... in the background. Even in Euphony Trio. Laura's the leader. Axel has the vision. I'm just—"
"You're not 'just' anything," Zane said, his tone quiet but firm.
She glanced at him.
"You shine, Sunny," he continued. "Not because you're loud. Or because you're flashy. But because you're real. You don't hide behind the noise."
She blinked, eyes stinging slightly. "When I was younger… I used to be popular. At school. People liked being around me. Said I was fun. Said I 'radiated the room' or whatever." Her fingers tugged gently at her sleeves. "But I never really knew if they liked me. Or just the version of me that made them feel good."
Zane's expression softened.
"That's probably why I like being behind a screen," she added. "Behind my work. I can control how much people see. It's safer that way."
"I get it," he said after a long beat. "I used to love being the center of attention — thought it was the only way I'd be seen. If I didn't keep performing, didn't keep pushing, I'd disappear. That terrified me."
Sunny tilted her head slightly, surprised. "You? Afraid of being overlooked?"
He chuckled — but it was a sad sound. "I grew up always being compared to someone else. Someone better. If I wasn't the best at something, I felt... invisible."
They sat with that for a while, their shoulders brushing.
Zane turned to her again, more serious this time. "You're not in anyone's shadow, Sunny. Least of all mine."
Sunny didn't respond right away. Her fingers curled slightly in her lap, like she was weighing something fragile.
Then softly, almost shyly, she said,"I love this side of you."
Zane blinked. "What side?"
She smiled faintly. "This one. The one who listens. Who doesn't have to be loud. You show off to everyone else — but with me… or well, ever since I met you… you've always been soft. Encouraging."
He said nothing, but his expression warmed.
"I still remember our early rehearsals," she went on, her voice dipping with memory. "When I especially messed up the choreography. Laura seemed a bit... impatient. But you never shamed me. You waited. Practiced with me. It was like…"She trailed off, then glanced at him again."It felt like we had a connection, even from the start."
Zane let out a soft breath, like her words had hit deeper than expected. "Funny you say that…"
She tilted her head.
"I still remember that afternoon. After our first full rehearsal — you asked if you could tag along with me and the guys. I thought it was just a polite thing."He smiled at the memory. "But then you actually came. You, sitting in that cramped sushi bar, eating fried tofu and quietly vibing with a bunch of loud idiots."
Sunny laughed softly. "I was so nervous."
"I was surprised. But…" he looked at her more closely, sincerity behind his eyes,"I think part of me already knew. Even then. That we were going to matter to each other. Somehow."
Sunny looked down, cheeks faintly pink — then rested her head more fully against his shoulder.
"I'm glad I went."
He leaned his head gently against hers.
"Me too."
---
The rooftop was quiet now. The music from the party below had dulled to a distant hum, like the night itself was winding down. A gentle breeze played with Sunny's hair as she leaned into Zane's side, the city lights flickering softly around them.
They stayed like that for a while — no rush, no need to fill the silence.
Then, without looking up, Sunny murmured,"You really saw me. Back then."
Zane's voice was low. "I still do."
She finally lifted her gaze, eyes meeting his. The look he gave her wasn't the playful grin he wore for the world — it was something quieter. Surer. Like this moment was his whole truth.
Zane reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face."Can I—?"
Sunny didn't answer with words. She closed the space between them herself, her lips brushing his gently, like a question. He answered it without hesitation, pulling her closer.
The kiss was soft. Certain. Not just from attraction, but understanding.
And when they pulled apart, she stayed close, forehead resting against his.
Zane smiled against her skin.
"Told you.""What?" she asked, eyes half-closed.
"We were always going to matter."
---
The streets outside the penthouse had quieted. Laura and Axel walked side by side under the soft glow of city lights, the party fading behind them like a distant echo.
Laura hadn't said much on the way out. She didn't need to — not with Axel. But as they crossed an empty intersection, her voice finally broke the silence.
"Do you think love should feel loud?"
Axel glanced at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he looked forward again, thoughtful.
"Not always," he said. "Sometimes… it just needs to be real."
Laura didn't respond right away. But her hand brushed against his, just slightly — and this time, she didn't pull away.
They kept walking, quietly. No grand confessions. No fireworks.
Just the simple rhythm of two people trying to understand each other — and themselves.
And in that quiet, it felt like enough.