The dim lighting of the bar cast everything in a warm amber glow, the kind of light that made even the most ordinary evenings feel like they held a touch of magic. Harper wasn't a frequent visitor to places like this, but tonight, after a particularly draining day, her best friend and co-worker, Lily, had dragged her out.
"You work too hard," Lily said, sliding a cocktail across the table. "And before you say anything, no, the firm will not crumble if you take one night off."
Harper smirked, swirling the straw in her drink. "I'll believe that when I see it."
The low hum of chatter was interrupted as a man stepped onto the small stage in the corner. A single spotlight illuminated him as he adjusted a microphone stand and slung a guitar over his shoulder.
Harper's heart skipped.
It was him.
The musician from the coffee shop.
Her breath caught as she took in the same tousled dark hair, now catching the light, and the way he stood—confident but with a trace of weariness, like he carried the weight of too many songs that hadn't yet been heard.
"Hey, you okay?" Lily asked, noticing Harper's distracted gaze.
"That's…" Harper began but trailed off. How was she supposed to explain this?
Before she could decide, the first chords from his guitar filled the room, soft and melancholic. The bar fell silent as his voice floated over the crowd—low, gravelly, and impossibly raw.
*"I thought I had the answer,
But life's a funny game.
You think you're standing steady,
Then the tide shifts just the same…"*
The lyrics seemed to seep into Harper's chest, striking a chord she didn't know she had. She couldn't look away, each note drawing her further in. It wasn't just the song; it was the man behind it.
By the time he finished, the crowd erupted into applause, but Harper could only sit there, stunned.
"Well, that was… wow," Lily said, nudging Harper. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been staring like he's the last cookie in the jar."
"I know him," Harper blurted.
"What?"
"I mean, not *know* him, but I—" She hesitated, then sighed. "I accidentally spilled coffee on his notebook this morning. It was full of his songs."
Lily raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a grin. "And now he's here. Maybe the universe is telling you something."
"Like what?" Harper asked, rolling her eyes.
"Like, go talk to him. Apologize again. Maybe buy him a drink?"
"I don't think he's in the mood for that," Harper said, her gaze drifting back to him. He was off the stage now, packing up his guitar, his expression unreadable.
"Only one way to find out." Lily pushed Harper toward him, laughing at her protests.
Harper stumbled forward, feeling every bit as awkward as she had that morning. By the time she reached him, he was adjusting the strap of his guitar case, his back to her.
"Hey," she said, her voice coming out softer than she intended.
He turned, his eyes narrowing slightly in recognition. "Oh. It's you."
Harper winced. Not a great start. "Look, I just wanted to apologize again. About this morning. I didn't realize—"
"You didn't realize you'd ruin a week's worth of work?" he interrupted, though his tone lacked the sharpness she expected.
Harper's cheeks flushed. "No. I didn't realize how much it meant to you. But after hearing you tonight…" She hesitated, then decided to be honest. "You're really talented. Your music—it's incredible."
For a moment, his expression softened, but he quickly masked it. "Thanks. But a compliment doesn't fix the damage."
She swallowed the instinct to snap back. "I know it doesn't. I just—if there's any way I can help, I'd like to."
He studied her, as if weighing her words. "Why do you care?"
"Because I feel bad," she said simply. "And because… I don't know. I just do."
His gaze lingered on her for a moment before he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, it's fine. What's done is done."
But as he turned to leave, Harper blurted, "At least let me buy you a drink."
He paused, glancing over his shoulder. "A drink?"
"Yeah. Call it a peace offering," she said, her voice steadier now.
He seemed to consider it before nodding. "Alright. One drink."
As they made their way to the bar, Harper couldn't help but wonder what she was doing. She barely knew this man, and yet, she felt an inexplicable pull toward him.
And for the first time in a long time, she didn't fight it.
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