Under the Same Playlist

Chapter 1: Wrong Send, Right Song

To: Eli Reyes
"Hi! Please delete the song you played on air. It wasn't meant to be public. I accidentally sent it to you."

I hit send.

A few seconds later, seen.
And then the typing bubble appears.

Eli: Oh shoot—ikaw pala 'yon? Sorry, man! Pero legit, ang galing ng song mo. Parang ang tahimik pero may bigat, gets mo?

Ashton: Please don't play it again. It's my final project.

Eli: Gotchu. Pero pwede ko bang itanong? Ikaw ba si "rhythm_stphn"? Kasi parang ganun yung filename, eh.

My stomach twists. Oh, great. I forgot to rename the file.

Ashton: ...Yeah. That's my composer name.

Eli: Dude, ang cool nun. You should come guest sa radio minsan!

Ashton: No thanks. I'm not... good with crowds.

Eli: Sige, next time na lang. Pero promise, solid yung song mo. I'd play it again kung pumayag ka.

I don't reply. I just close my phone, lie down on my bed, and stare at the ceiling, heart still racing.

Eli Reyes just heard the most vulnerable thing I've ever written. And somehow, he liked it.

Eli's POV

I stare at the message thread, grinning a little. Whoever rhythm_ash is, he sounds shy. The way he typed—careful, quiet, parang ayaw gumulo pero gusto ring marinig.

And that song? Man.

It's not the usual upbeat track I get from random submissions. It's soft, raw, may halong lungkot at hope.

"Ash... hmmm?" I whisper the name, rolling it on my tongue like a lyric.

I lean back on my chair, radio booth lights reflecting on the glass window. 12:42 AM.

Everyone's asleep except me, some stray cats outside, and whoever wrote that song.

I play the track again, privately this time.

"If I could put my heart in chords,
would you listen without words?"

There's something about his voice. Not perfect, but real.

I chuckle softly. "Bro, whoever you are, I hope you keep writing."

Then I send another message before logging off:

Eli: Don't worry, promise 'di ko na ipi-play publicly. Pero I mean it — gusto kong marinig next song mo.

Stephen's POV

The next morning, I wake up to that message.
I read it three times. I should be mad—embarrassed even—but something about the way he said it felt sincere. Like he actually cared.

Still, I keep my guard up. I reply:

Ashton: Thanks. But I'm not used to sharing my songs like that.

Eli: Then maybe start small. Share with one person first. 😉

I stare at the winking emoji for a full minute.

That's... unfair.

He's too confident. Too friendly. Too—warm.
I toss my phone aside, trying to focus on other things. But throughout the day, his voice lingers in my head. Not the on-air version, but the one from the message.

Casual. Curious. Kinda gentle.
And maybe, just maybe... I want to reply again.

Eli's POV

Between classes, I can't stop checking my inbox. No reply. I don't know why I'm so fixated. Maybe it's because that song hit something in me. Parang kahit hindi ko siya kilala, naiintindihan ko 'yung vibe niya.