LOVE IN THE MOONLIGHT

Official

The morning after the competition felt surreal, like I had woken up in a different version of my life where the tightness in my chest from failed exams and money problems had been replaced by something lighter, something warmer, and something that had everything to do with the way Rayyan looked at me last night when he said he didn't want this to be just a 2 AM thing anymore and the way he held my hand across the diner table like he was afraid I would disappear if he let go.

I didn't sleep much because my brain kept replaying every single moment from the past week, from the first night on the rooftop when he tossed me his hoodie without asking to last night when he won first place and pulled me into a hug in front of everyone like I was the most important person in the room, and I kept wondering if this was real or if I was going to wake up and find out that it was all just a dream that my sleep-deprived brain made up to cope with the stress.

At 9 AM my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number, and my heart did something stupid when I saw the words on the screen.

`Rayyan: Morning, official girlfriend. You awake?`

Official girlfriend.

Those two words made me drop my phone on my bed and stare at the ceiling for a full minute because I wasn't ready for how fast this was moving but also because I didn't want to slow it down, and when I finally picked up my phone my fingers were shaking as I typed back.

`Aira: Morning. I don't remember agreeing to that title.`

`Rayyan: Too late. Already told my guitar. She approves.`

I laughed out loud and Nadia looked up from her bed with a knowing smirk because she had heard me come in at 3 AM last night and I had told her everything over instant noodles while we both pretended we weren't crying from how happy I looked.

`Rayyan: Pick you up at 6? Dinner. Real date. Not rooftop coffee.`

`Aira: Is this a demand or a question?`

`Rayyan: It's a demand disguised as a question. Be ready.`

I spent the entire day trying to focus on studying for my retake but I couldn't concentrate on anything except what to wear and whether I was overthinking this and if it was weird that I felt like I had known him for years even though we had only been meeting for a week, and by 5:45 PM I was pacing in my room wearing jeans and a simple white top because I didn't own anything fancy and I didn't want to pretend to be someone I wasn't.

He texted at exactly 6:00. `Downstairs.`

When I walked out of the dorm he was leaning against a beat-up black motorcycle, wearing a black jacket and jeans and looking unfairly good in the evening light, and he handed me a helmet without saying anything, but his eyes did that thing again where they scanned me from head to toe like he was memorizing me.

"You look nice," he said finally, his voice rough. "Official."

I rolled my eyes but I was smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet," he said, helping me with the helmet. "Where we can talk without the moon listening."

We rode through the city as the sun started to set, and I wrapped my arms around his waist because it was the safest place I had been in a long time, and when we stopped it wasn't at a fancy restaurant like I expected, it was at a small park by the river with string lights and food trucks and couples sitting on blankets.

He bought us takoyaki and two drinks and we sat on a bench by the water, not talking at first, just eating and watching the river reflect the lights.

"I've never done this before," he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Done what?" I asked, confused.

"Dated," he said, like it was an embarrassing confession. "Properly. With dinner and talking and... this."

That surprised me because he was Rayyan Hale, campus legend, but then I remembered how he said people like him don't get second chances and I realized that maybe he had never let anyone close enough to try.

"Me neither," I admitted. "Not really. I was always too busy with school."

He nodded and bumped his shoulder against mine. "Good. Then we can be bad at it together."

We both laughed, and it felt easy, it felt right, and for the first time I wasn't scared of what came next because he made it feel safe.

After dinner we walked along the river, and he told me about his dad, about how he used to sneak into his dad's garage at night to play guitar when he was 12, about how his dad was the only person who believed he could make it, and I told him about my mom and how she worked two jobs to send me to college and how the thought of disappointing her made me sick.

We didn't solve anything, we didn't have answers, but we listened, and sometimes that's all you need.

When he dropped me off at the dorm at 10 PM, he didn't kiss me or make a big deal out of it, he just took off my helmet, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and said, "Same time tomorrow?"

I shook my head. "It's not 2 AM anymore."

He smiled, slow and real. "No. It's 10 PM. And it's every day. Officially."

And then he rode off, leaving me standing there with my heart beating too fast and my head spinning.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of classes and studying and late-night texts and rooftop meetings that were no longer secret, and Rayyan started using the $5000 from the competition to pay off debt and book studio time to record his single, and I started seeing him smile more, really smile, not the half-smile he used to hide behind.

But things weren't perfect.

My retake exam was in two weeks and I was terrified, and Rayyan had nights where he wouldn't talk and would just play guitar until his fingers bled because the grief over his dad hit him at random times.

One night on the rooftop, about a month after we became official, he was quiet for a long time, and I knew something was wrong.

"What's going on?" I asked, sitting close to him.

He sighed and set his guitar down. "The label wants me to tour. Small venues, but for two months. Starting next month."

My stomach dropped. "Oh."

"I don't want to go," he said quickly. "Not if it means I won't see you. But it's a big opportunity and I can't keep running from it."

I looked at him, at the conflict in his eyes, and I knew that this was the first real test for us, the first time we had to choose between what we wanted and what we needed.

"Then go," I said, even though the words hurt. "But come back to me. And text me. And call me. And don't forget about me."

He looked at me like I had just given him the world. "I could never forget about you," he said, pulling me into his arms. "You're the reason I started playing again."

We stayed like that for a long time, under the moon that had brought us together, and I realized that being official didn't mean it would be easy, it meant we had to fight for it, together.

And I was ready to fight.

[TO BE CONTINUED...]