“If we can’t take a break to pet dogs, Ahmed, then what do we have left?”

“Your dramatics, apparently.”

Ace reaches out and flicks my nose. I allow it, more out of shock than anything else. I’ve initiated more physical contact between us than he has at this point, but it’s strange that we’ve somehow gained this level of familiarity in such a short time. Ace clearly thinks nothing of it, because he turns around and starts walking again. I follow him, and Spade happily trots along at my side.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Ace says, pushing open the door at the end of the hall.

I step inside and stop in my tracks, gazing around in wide-eyed wonder. The room is large, with high ceilings and copious amounts of free space. Solar systems are painted all along the walls, with small planets hanging on thin wires from built-in ceiling spotlights. A telescope sits by his dresser, and near his window is a sleek black grand piano covered in sheet music.

“You really do play,” I say, glancing at one of the pages, unintelligible scribbles written in the margins.

He nods, his fingers ghosting over the keys. “Yeah, my mom taught me when I was four,” he says, his gaze far away. “I used to practice in the living room, but since I usually play for three hours a day, it kind of...disrupts the peace. After my stepmother and Mia moved in, it was just easier to keep the piano in my room.”

“Wait. Three hours a day?” I repeat, looking at him in surprise. “Are you any good?”

“I hope so,” he says, offering me a mild smile. “My instructor says I’m not his worst student, for whatever that counts. Don’t think I’d fly out for international competitions otherwise.”

I blink. “International? Where have you been?”

Ace plays a single note, eyes drifting up to meet mine. “London, Paris, Tokyo. The works. My last competition was in Vienna. After our sets, me and one of the other competitors—Ben—snuck out midway through the competition and went for ice cream instead. You should have seen the look on his girlfriend’s face when she realized he didn’t bring her any back. I seriously thought she was about to dump him and book the next train to Slovakia just to get away from him.”

I snort at the mental image. “Sounds fun.”

“It was,” Ace says, his smile stretching wide across his face. “You would like Vienna.”

My brows raise of their own accord. “Would I?”

He nods, fingers skating along the keys one last time before he moves away from the piano. I almost want to ask him to play me something, but it feels too intrusive. I wouldn’t want him to ask about my poetry.

the moon falls from the sky

and a boy rises from the ruins

carved by celestial dust