“What my kind does for… fun,” he began, his voice sounding pained. “I don’t believe you would see it as such.”

A black hole seemed to open between us, sucking out all the air. Ants, remember? I kicked myself mentally. “Oh,” I said meekly instead.

“And if this were a road trip,” he repeated after a moment. “What would you do?”

I racked my brain, trying to think of an answer while simultaneously trying to fathom why he cared. “Um, well… we’d go to see the sights. Like, we’d have a cool destination in mind. And while we travel, we’d listen to music. Or sing,” I tried to explain.

Riley’s mouth quirked into a small smile. “Sing?” he repeated. “Then do so.”

My mouth dropped open. “Sing?” I squeaked. “I… I can’t sing!”

“You have vocal chords,” he pointed out.

“I can’t sing well,” I countered, hugging myself.

“Sing for me… please?” he said, his eyes glancing at me for a moment.

My emotions were in a tumult. Was this how the ingénue Christine felt, the first time her Angel of Music, her Phantom of the Opera, commanded her? I felt unable to resist, even though I desperately wanted to.

“O-okay,” I stuttered, but I knew exactly what to sing. “Um. This is from my favorite musical—Phantom of the Opera. It’s… it’s really beautiful.”

And so I gave in, singing what I knew best—Angel of Music from Phantom’s first act. To my own ears I sounded horrible, low and timid and shaky. I didn’t dare look at Riley lest I catch sight of a mocking smirk on his lips. I finally made it to the end of the song, and taking a shaky breath, stopped, glad it was over.

I felt a tug on my elbow, and Riley’s cool hand slithered its way into mine. I looked up at him in shock.

“That was surprisingly… beautiful,” he admitted, his eyes ever on the road before us. “Do not doubt yourself, Andromeda.”

“Yeah, what he said.”

I jumped in my seat, a small scream escaping past my lips. “Did… did the car just…”

From the radio, the sound of laughter pealed forth, a mix of merriment and mockery.

“Neil,” Riley growled, moving his hand back to the steering wheel, leaving mine feeling empty and cold.

“Neil?” I repeated, and the voice only laughed again. “Is it… is it some kind of—”

“Yes, it is some kind of magic! The magic of radio!” Neil intoned, laying it on thick. “You mortals are a riot, you always forget your own technological advances.”

I was mortified, and my face burned red at his teasing. “Look, it’s been pretty insane ever since I met the both of you, so—”