August couldn't fall asleep. She kept tossing and turning in bed, so much so that even Phoebe got frustrated and jumped down to curl up in her own dog bed.

She was anxious. Her album was set to be released in two months. She had a lot of time to perfect it. In fact, all twelve songs she had recorded were already set and ready to be released. The last song was just done being produced and mixed earlier that same afternoon.

And yet, it didn't feel ready yet. The record felt like it was missing an important chapter. She had started calling each one of her songs on the album a chapter seeing as the whole thing was one big story. She felt like there was a major chapter she had forgotten to write.

With a frustrated huff, she pushed the blankets off her legs and got out of bed, phone and AirPods in hand. In only her worn-out oversized t-shirt, she padded out into the hall and to the kitchen. Phoebe wizzed past her as fast as her tiny legs allowed her, probably thinking she was going to get some food. August rolled her eyes, smiling amusedly at her dog. She grabbed a mug and a teabag and poured some water into the kettle. As it boiled, she grabbed her phone and opened the file she had been emailed earlier of all the songs that were ready.

She listened to them one by one, in the order of the track listing. The songs merged into one another perfectly, and it was pretty satisfying to listen to. She listened to the eleventh track, Je te laisserai des mots. And the very last piano note transitioned into the crackle of a record player before the intro chords of the very last song, Home, started playing.

When she had listened to all twelve songs and had a whole cup of tea, she started it again. Fifty-four minutes and thirty-one seconds later, she looped it again. And again.

The record told her story. Meeting her best friends, making a life for herself in New York. all her new opportunities in life with music in the centre. Falling in love. Falling out of love. Meeting someone new... Finding a home.

There was a theme to it. A theme of growth, and passage of time, and sitting back and reminiscing.

But there was still something missing. The story ended right. It was a full circle. Moving from 'Till Forever falls apart, to Home. It sounded like the story got the closure it needed. But August couldn't feel it. To her, every single time she listened to the record, there was a large gaping hole in the middle that kept growing.

It was only when she had looked at the wallpaper on her phone of three children riding around on bicycles did she realise there was one important person in her life whose story she hadn't told yet.

Ryne.

With a small shaky breath, August pulled the earphones out and placed them in their case. She tapped her fingers absentmindedly on the cold counter, chewing on her bottom lip.

She needed to tell Ryne's story. That's what the record was missing.

She didn't care that it was three in the morning. She quickly pulled her phone out and texted Jack.

August: We need another song!

Not so much to her surprise, Jack replied in a matter of minutes. By that time, she had already made herself another cup of tea and settled at the piano in the main room.

Jack: cool! Got any ideas? I'm all ears

August: Working on it!

As soon as her fingers touched the keys, August found herself playing a tune that sounded quite familiar. Smiling to herself, she remembered it was one that Ryne had written when they were younger. In fact, it was the first thing he had ever taught her to play on the piano. Ten-year-old Ryne was so proud of the three repeating two-note chords back then. He had never written anything more than that measure. The same three chords repeating.

But still, it sounded great. It was slow, sad, and mellow. Perhaps even hopeful. August's fingers moved with their own muscle memory. She played the A chord, then its augmented shape. Then added the sixth note to the chord. Then back to the augmented. Then, she played it again. And the third time she played it, she jumped to the D, then the C#minor, and finally the B minor.

It was coming along and a small smile started playing on August's lip as she went back to the same motif from the beginning. And when she played it again, she closed her eyes and found herself remembering that same exact day, two years ago.

The words poured out of her without much effort, the melody flowing on its own.

I got your voicemail again, seemed like you were busy...

So, I tried to hide the disappointment in the message I left behind

If only I could be that ignoring girl for a couple more hours or so...

But I got a call, soon after, that you died

August paused, her fingers trembling over the piano. Her vision had already started to blur, but she could already start to feel... better. There wasn't a word to describe it, exactly. She wasn't sure. But she knew that this was what she had to do.

She changed up the beat, playing a more uplifting series of major chords. But the words that flooded her brain were nothing but.

I don't wanna cry cuz it doesn't help

No, it won't bring you back to me, any sooner, sooner

We always think we got time but there's no time before it's over

And it's over...

Honest, honest

We always think we've got time but there's no time if we're honest...

... if I'm honest

August dropped her hands into her lap as she felt a tear slide down the side of her nose. She sniffled, brushing it with her finger but it didn't matter. There were more tears.

There was some ruffling going on behind her and she turned around, expecting to find Phoebe chasing Benjamin, but she was surprised to find Taylor leaning against the doorframe in her pyjamas, her eyebrows furrowed while she hugged Olivia close to her chest.

August jumped slightly in surprise and used her hands to wipe at her eyes furiously. "Hey— I'm sorry, did I wake you? I'm really sorry, I wasn't—"

"No, no, don't worry about it. It wasn't you. Olivia did, actually. She was meowing at the door to get out," Taylor explained. August nodded, dropping her hands back into her lap. "I didn't even realise until I was going down the stairs. I think I was still half asleep," she chuckled softly and took a tentative step into the room.

August sent her a little smile and turned back around to face the piano keys. She saw Olivia walk past the piano to the large windows ahead and soon after Taylor was standing right behind her.

"How long have you been up for?" She asked and August shrugged, using the side of her finger to rub the keys, though she wouldn't press down.

"I couldn't sleep," she murmured softly. "I just... the album didn't feel complete. So, I came down here to try and figure it out 'cause it was driving me insane and I just... I mean, I figured it out eventually. But..."

She cut herself off but she knew Taylor understood. If she had heard the lyrics, she understood.

"That was beautiful," Taylor said softly, placing a gentle hand over August's shoulder.

"It doesn't fit," August responded instead.

"What do you mean?"

"With the album. The key is different," she continued.

"Can't you just change the key? It'll still sound good," Taylor suggested but August shook her head. No, if she had to change a key, she'd change the whole album before changing this song.

"No, I— it has to be in A," August insisted.

Taylor was quiet for a moment and then gently sat down next to August. She moved a little bit to make more room for her but never glanced at her. She could only look at the piano tiles before her.

"Okay," Taylor said, turning so that she was looking at August's side-profile. "Then, figure out where the song goes in the album and you can add an outro to the song before it that goes into the key of A in the end and just transitions into it. And the same with this song, so it transitions smoothly into the next one."

August hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. "That might work, actually."

She knew where the song was gonna go. It made sense. Between 'A Minute in New York' and 'Moral of the Story'. She would make it work with the help of Jack.

"See? You'll figure it out, I'm sure."

August nodded, sniffling as she wiped at her face again. "Thanks," she whispered quietly.

"Mhm," Taylor hummed in response, grabbing August's hand and lacing their fingers together. "Did you just come up with it?"

August looked up to meet the soft, red-rimmed blue eyes. Taylor was really fighting off sleep to sit with her. She felt a little bad.

"Not really. This bit..." She repeated the same chords she had known how to play since she was four with her free hand. "Ryne used to play it all the time. I kind of forgot about it. God, it's been about ten years, I think, since he had last played it. I just kind of built on it."

"Well, it's breathtaking," Taylor said, squeezing August's hand. She held it up to her lips and pressed a soft kiss on the back of August's hand. "Do you want me to leave you, to figure it out?"

August met Taylor's eyes once again and she felt her own prickling again. She shook her head. She pulled her lips between her teeth fighting back the urge to sob.

"I miss him," she murmured softly and Taylor nodded, her eyes growing incredibly empathetic. She wrapped her arms around August's frame and pulled her into her. August buried her face into the blonde's neck, sniffling softly.

"I know," Taylor whispered, rubbing August's back with the palm of her hand, moving it in small circles.

"We always had a strained relationship. At least, when he got to high school. But then, he got clean, his last 18 months. And we were on our way to start mending things. I started seeing him a lot more, and his kids. I just... I thought we had so much time. To make things okay. And then it just... one mistake. All it took was one mistake."

Taylor's grip around August tightened. She nuzzled her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her temple while silently comforting her. She didn't need Taylor to say anything. It wouldn't matter anyway. Her presence alone was all the comfort she needed.

"He left me a message, the night before. Mary, my niece. She wanted me to take her to get her hair done around the weekend. I didn't call him back until the next evening and... it was too late. I kept getting his voicemail, and I left him a message eventually but, he never got it."

"I'm sorry," Taylor murmured, brushing August's hair out of her face. "I can't even imagine how hard it must have all been."

"I owe him this song, I think," August said softly. "Even if it takes forever to finish."

"Yeah, I get it," Taylor responded. She brushed her thumb over August's cheek softly before cupping it with her hand. "But we should probably get some sleep now."

August smirked lightly, tilting her head a little to meet Taylor's gaze. "Just say you want me to stop playing so you could sleep. I'll understand."

Taylor laughed softly and nudged August's shoulder playfully. "No, I want you to sleep, because you look exhausted and you've got a long day working tomorrow. Come on. Let's get to bed."

August sighed heavily and finally stood up, already feeling the day taking its toll on her body. She really was exhausted.

"Do I really look so horrible?"

Taylor smiled at her as she stood up as well, covering the piano keys. "You look gorgeous."

August turned around and started walking ahead, only stopping at the doorway to glance behind her. She held her hand out and Taylor rushed to her side, slipping her hand into August's.

"You know, my bed's pretty big," Taylor said as they walked back up the stairs.

"Really?" August asked, playing dumb.

"Mhm. So, if you ever just wanna have a proper slumber party..."

August laughed under her breath and followed Taylor into her bedroom. "Yeah, slumber party's are the coolest."

"Glad you agree!" Taylor grinned toothily and led the way to her unmade bed. They slipped under the blankets and as Taylor moved to turn the lamp by her bed off, August wormed her way even closer. She wrapped her arms around Taylor's waist and laid her head on her chest.

"Thank you for always being there for me," August whispered into the dark.

She felt Taylor's calloused fingertip lightly brush against her chin, lifting it up.

"Always," Taylor promised before closing the distance between them.

When she pulled away, August smiled and laid her head back on her chest. "You know, technically, we're still not officially dating."

Taylor chuckled. "Aren't we? We're sharing a bed."

"Yeah, but we've never officially been on a date. Unless you count Centennial park."

"Of course I do," Taylor confirmed, her fingers brushing through August's curls. "But if you insist, I'll invite you out Friday night. On an official date."

August smiled, finding Taylor's hand under the covers. "I'd like that. Where are we going to go?"

"I'll get a reservation at my favourite restaurant," Taylor told her. "You'll like it."

"Which one is it?" She asked curiously.

"Hm, you'll find out soon enough."

August groaned softly, but she couldn't help but smile.

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