Her eyes were blue like the ocean. The bluest blue I had ever seen.
But that wasn't what drew me to her that night - not at first.
It's what kept me there.

That night started off with a warning - my last chance, the producer said. Even Mitch, usually the most chilled of us all, was losing patience. He played it cool, of course. That's just his vibe. But I could see the edges starting to fray.

As for Gemma, she didn't say much. She didn't have to. Her silence screamed louder than any words could have. She watched me closely - from a distance, sometimes nearer - as if trying to read the truth beneath the surface. I hated that she could.

I'd promised them - promised myself - that tomorrow, I'd write. No excuses. No distractions. I'd let myself listen. Really listen. Absorb the sounds, the noise, the voices around me and make something out of it. Something real.

One drink turned into three... maybe more. Then Adam dragged me out of the bar and we ended up wandering the streets like drifters, laughing harder than we had in days.

That's when Alex ripped Gemma's scarf from her neck, making her yelp in surprise. His eyes were wild with half-drunken determination. He had a plan.

"Harry, stop right there, man!" he called out.

I froze, obedient like a soldier, smirking at how ridiculous I must've looked.

"You're not listening, you're watching. That's not what we agreed on," he scolded through a laugh.

"What do you want me to do then, boss?" I grinned.

"Come 're."

Instead of me moving forward, he closed the gap in two strides. With a swift motion, he wrapped Gemma's scarf around my eyes, blindfolding me. He patted my back, satisfied like a mad scientist finally flipping the switch on his experiment.

"That should do it," he said, proud of himself. He was just as drunk as the rest of us - maybe even more.

"Now listen. Just listen."

"I swear to God, if I fall on my face, I'm suing every last one of you," I muttered, trying to find my footing.

"Who's guiding me, you fools?"

"I will guide you, boy! Let's go!" Alex replied, placing a steadying hand on my back.

The laughter behind me erupted - my friends enjoying the absurdity, their concerns (and mine) melting into the night, if only temporarily.

"Ooooh, I smell grilled fish," I announced, hands raised like a blind prophet.

"Stop being an arsehole. I said listen, not smell!" Alex shouted.

"Alright, alright! Got it," I replied defensively, deciding to surrender to the madness of it all.

I walked carefully, uncertain of every step, the alcohol not exactly helping. I tried to peek through the scarf once or twice, but it was too thick - pointless. So, I gave in. Trusted them.

"Listen, Harry. Listen, little brother," Gemma pleaded.

I focused. For once, I tried to shut the world up and tune in.

A hum. A buzz. A low churning sound.

"I hear... a boat!" I cried out, thrilled.

"Describe it!" Alex urged, his voice bright with excitement.

"It's small. No - medium-sized. Red and white..." I paused, the image forming in my mind.

"And?" Gemma was hooked now.

"It's old. Worn down - like its owner. But it's dancing across the waves, combing the sea. The water's sparkling. Crystal clear. Like... little diamonds scattered on its back."

I leaned deeper into the sound, and the scene built itself in my mind.

"The moon's reflected on the water. It's like a mirror. Showing everything - the beauty and the imperfections."

Silence.

The good kind.

"Good job, H," Tyler finally said, breaking it. "It's a start."

Relief rushed through me like a wave. A start. That's all I needed.

"Let's walk some more," Jeff added, and we did.

And for the first time in months... I was excited. Giddy, even. Desperate to discover more. Hungry to chase this fragile thread of inspiration and see where it might lead.

I took smaller steps, tuning in again.

"I can hear the breeze," I murmured suddenly, halting mid-stride.

"Describe it," Jeff said.

"It's soft... it soughs. Whispering through the green leaves of the trees."

"Whispering what?" Alex asked.

"Secrets," I said, eyes still closed beneath the scarf. "The secrets it's collected from the people in its way."

A pause - then claps. Tyler, again.

"Well done, man."

Bit by bit, my confidence bloomed. A tiny flame, threatening to catch.

"Let's walk some more," Tyler said, and I nodded eagerly.

But then came the distractions - the crunch of shoes against the pavement, the echo of bar music spilling into the street, someone honking in the distance, flashes of headlights...

And then, suddenly - nothing.

Just darkness again.

We kept walking.
Steps heavy again. Like we'd used up all the magic I had left.
Was that it? Just a couple of good lines and then - nothing?

Dark.
Steps.
Dark.

I need your arms to hold me now
The nights are so unkind
Bring back those nights when I held you beside me...

I stopped walking.
So did everyone else.

"What is it, Harry?" Gemma asked, her voice edged with concern.

"Shhh," I hissed, sharper than I meant to.

Undo this hurt you caused
When you walked out the door
And walked out of my life...

My legs moved on their own.

"What is it, man?" Alex asked behind me.

"Shhh," I repeated, more insistent this time.
Something was pulling me.

Un-break my heart
My heart...

They stopped guiding me.
Now they were following.

Alex tried to keep up, but I was moving faster. Possessed.

Don't leave me here with these tears
Come and kiss this pain away
I can't forget the day you left
Time is so unkind...

Without thinking, I tore the scarf off my face and blinked, disoriented by the blur of light and motion. Everything looked... off. Too bright, too distorted. I shut my eyes again, letting the voice guide me instead.

When you walked out the door
And walked out of my life
Un-cry these tears
I cried so many nights...

Like a dying man crawling toward water, I followed the sound. The feeling.
It wasn't just a voice - it was an ache in musical form.

A neon sign flickered ahead, buzzing faintly above the door of a small, aging bar. Half-lit letters flashed "Karaoke Night" in tired reds and blues.

Un-break my heart
Say you'll love me again
Undo this hurt you caused...

My feet knew the way.

Inside, the lighting was low and the air was thick with nostalgia - and maybe just a little smoke. The kind of place that wears time proudly.

And there she was.

A girl. A woman. A siren.

Sitting behind a worn piano, her fingers caressed the keys with an elegance that looked effortless. Her voice, raw and beautiful, swirled through the room like incense. Her black hair was tied up in a messy bun, her skin glowing under the soft stage light. Full pink lips moved like they were telling secrets no one else could hear.

Every note pierced straight through me.

And then... she opened her eyes.

God. Those eyes.

Ocean blue. The bluest blue I had ever seen.

Sweet darlin'
Without you I just can't go on...

I was frozen.
Completely, utterly mesmerized.

She wasn't just singing.
She was feeling every word. Living it.
Body and soul surrendered to the music like it was something sacred.

When the song finally ended, the entire room was still - like the whole place had forgotten to breathe.

She whispered, "Thank you," barely loud enough to carry.
And that's when I realized - no one had clapped.

No one.

Everyone was too stunned.

So I stood up and started clapping like a man possessed, loud and unashamed. I whistled through my fingers, and just like that, the room came back to life. The audience followed, snapping out of the trance. Cheers broke out like a ripple effect.

"Wow!" I said aloud, shaking my head. "Wow..."

The presenter - a man I hadn't noticed until now - held out the mic with a grin.
"Thank you! What's your name, sweetheart?"

She hesitated for a second, shy.
"Um... it's Demetra. But you can call me D. Just D," she smiled gently, stepping down from the stage.

She wore a simple white dress. Her shoulders looked like something out of a painting - delicate, elegant. The kind of beauty that didn't need permission to exist.

"D," I echoed under my breath. My eyes didn't leave her for a second.

"What is it, little brother?" Gemma asked, nudging me.

"She's an angel," I whispered.

And I meant it. Not in the cheesy, overused way.
She was an angel - haunting and holy in one breath.

I looked at my friends. At Jeff. At the scarf still in my hand.

"I'm ready," I said.

And they all smiled like they'd been waiting to hear those words for a long time.