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The rehearsal room was quiet—too quiet.
(Y/N)'s fingers hovered over her strings, mid-chord, frozen. She could still feel the ghost of the last verse they'd just played, dull and empty like lukewarm water.
'This is so stupid.' Her gaze narrowed.
Mika snapped her gum, legs kicked up on a folding chair, drumsticks balanced lazily on her knees. Reina was leaning against the amp, scrolling through her phone without shame. The air reeked of apathy.
(Y/N) slowly lowered her guitar and looked up. "Okay. What was that?"
Mika blinked, unbothered. "The chorus?"
"No," (Y/N) said, standing. "That was a corpse of a chorus. That was the most lifeless thing we've played all week."
"God, not this again," Reina muttered without looking up.
"Sorry, are we not supposed to care about sounding good anymore?"
Mika rolled her eyes. "Can you relax? We're just practicing. It doesn't have to be a Broadway audition."
"It's not about perfection," (Y/N) snapped. "It's about trying. About not sounding like we're three steps away from flatlining."
"(Y/N), we've played that song like four times," Mika groaned, finally standing and stretching like a cat. "We're tired. And it's not that deep."
"Four times is your maximum? And it is that deep to me," (Y/N) said, louder now. "It used to be that deep for all of us."
Reina finally looked up from her phone, brows raised. "Are you seriously going to guilt trip us because we're not obsessed with this anymore?"
(Y/N) paused, breath catching. "I'm not trying to guilt trip anyone. I just—why are we even doing this if we don't give a shit anymore?"
Reina snorted. "Because we said we would. And we're keeping the club alive. Isn't that enough?"
"No," (Y/N) said flatly. "It's not enough. Not when we used to pour our souls into this."
Mika crossed her arms. "Well, maybe our souls are busy."
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. "Right. Like with your boyfriends?"
That hit.
Reina stiffened. Mika's face tightened. Neither of them responded.
(Y/N) exhaled sharply. "You used to be the one pushing me to stop playing safe. You used to scream during our sets and come up with wild-ass bridge ideas. You made me believe this was worth it."
Mika bit her lip. "People grow, (Y/N). Maybe you should too."
"No," (Y/N) said, shaking her head. "This isn't growth. This is giving up. You're just letting people who don't even play music decide what your passion is worth."
