I write for a bit before I scroll up through the vulgar combinations of emojis, seeing it’s on the limited access floor with the gym, pool, and whatever else the chick at the desk said.

Playing rebel, I head down without bothering Colt to explore. It’s the best I’ll get for a while. I step off the elevator and into an open space with couches and lounge chairs, sitting areas scattered. Doorways surrounding the common area lead to the different amenities, and glass separates the gym. Off to one side, the documentary crew has left their equipment to set up in preparation for tonight.

I might have dodged solo interviews, but we’ve filmed two group ones. Remi always has instruments in the background, today no exception. I catch the neck of the acoustic and use the hotel’s piano in the corner to tune it before dropping onto an oversized couch.

My eyes are closed while I play, just following the notes. I haven’t been at it long when I hear a, “Uh, Adams.”

I internally sigh and then look at Remi. She’s near the set where her other two crew, Glory and Nate, are starting to assemble lights.

“I just wanted you to know we’re here,” she says.

Despite the audience, I stay. Her gaze flits to me more than once, and I feel the craving building inside her. The next time she looks, I’m waiting. I hook my head, and she doesn’t hesitate to grab her camera. She settles on the side of the L-shaped couch.

I continue wandering through whatever feels right while she films without audio. It slowly starts to morph until it sounds familiar. I’m unsure what it even is at first, but then I shift down on the fretboard. As soon as I change keys, muscle memory kicks in.

Remi moves off to the side, and when I glance over, she’s lowered her camera.

Sad eyes stay on me while I play an unfinished song. A song I’ve played for her before. I squeak the strings at the end and set the guitar on a cushion between us.

“You get what you want?” I ask.

She nods. “It was perfect.”

I nod back, standing, walking away before I say what I’m thinking—she was.

* * *

Over the next three days, Felix, Dev, and I spend more time in the common area than on our own floor. The place has been a ghost town. Perfect for us to slap on our metaphorical scuba tanks and dive down into the creative depths.

“Colt Breaks” included. He checks, so we comply.