LOVE IN THE MOONLIGHT

The Single

The week after Rayyan came back from tour was a blur of sleeping in and eating too much instant ramen and spending every possible minute together because we had spent two months apart and neither of us could stand the thought of being separated again, even for a few hours, and he had this new energy about him, like the tour had broken him in some ways but also put him back together in others, and he kept looking at me like he still couldn't believe I was real and that I had waited for him.

But underneath all the happiness there was something else too, something he wasn't telling me, because every time his phone buzzed he would get quiet and every time I asked about the recording contract he would change the subject and say "later" in a voice that didn't sound like later at all.

It was on a Tuesday night, about a week after he got back, when we were on the rooftop like old times but everything felt different now because we weren't strangers anymore and we didn't have to pretend that this wasn't important, that he finally told me what was going on.

"I have to record the single next week," he said, staring at his guitar instead of looking at me. "The label set the date. And they want it to be about..." he trailed off.

"About what?" I asked, sitting closer to him.

"About us," he said finally, and when he looked up his eyes were conflicted. "They heard one of the songs I wrote on tour. The one I sent you as a voice note at 3 AM. They want that one."

My heart stopped because I knew exactly which song he meant, the one where his voice cracked on the line `don't leave me in the dark when the moon is the only thing we share`, the one that made me cry in my dorm because it sounded exactly like how I felt when he was gone.

"Oh," I said softly, because I didn't know what else to say. "That's... big."

"It's too personal," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I don't want to put you in a song and have everyone know your business. I don't want to use you like that."

"Rayyan," I said, taking his hand. "You didn't use me. You wrote about how you felt. And if that song helps other people feel less alone, then... then I think you should record it."

He looked at me like I was crazy. "You'd be okay with that? With the whole campus knowing that song is about you?"

I thought about it for a second, about how scared I was of being seen and judged, and then I thought about how brave he had been on stage and how he never hid who he was.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm okay with it. If you're okay with it being about me."

He didn't answer with words. He just pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head and whispered "thank you" like I had just given him something priceless.

Recording day came faster than either of us expected, and I went with him to the studio because he said he couldn't do it without me there, and the studio was small and smelled like coffee and old instruments, and there were people everywhere with headphones and clipboards looking important.

The producer was a woman named Maya who had sharp eyes and a kind smile, and she listened to Rayyan play the song once and then nodded. "This is it," she said. "This is the one. It's raw. It's real. Don't overthink it."

Rayyan was nervous. I could see it in the way he kept adjusting his guitar strap and the way his hands shook slightly, and so before they started recording I walked up to him and took his face in my hands.

"Hey," I said. "Remember the rooftop? The first night? You played this song then and I wasn't even supposed to hear it."

He nodded.

"Play it like that," I whispered. "Like no one is listening. Like it's just for me."

Something in his eyes changed then, and he nodded once and walked into the recording booth.

The first take was rough. The second take was better.

But the third take... the third take made everyone in the studio go quiet, because you could hear it, you could hear two months of missing someone and being scared and coming home, and when he finished there were tears in his eyes and mine too.

Maya played it back and we all just listened, and when it was over she said, "That's the one. We're done."

Rayyan came out of the booth looking dazed, like he had just exorcised something, and the first thing he did was find me in the crowd and hug me so tight I couldn't breathe.

"I did it," he whispered. "For you. For my dad. For us."

"I know," I said, crying and smiling at the same time. "It was perfect."

The next two weeks were chaos. The label set a release date, they made a music video that was just Rayyan playing guitar on a rooftop at night with shots of the city lights, and they wouldn't tell me when it was coming out because they wanted it to be a surprise.

I tried not to think about it, but it was hard when Rayyan was on campus posters now and when people started recognizing him in the cafe and when Nadia kept asking me "is it true? Is the song about you?"

I didn't answer. I just waited.

The song dropped on a Friday at midnight.

Title: `2 AM`.

I was asleep when it happened, but my phone exploded at 12:05 AM with texts from Nadia and classmates and even professors, all saying the same thing: `Have you heard Rayyan's new song??`

I put on my headphones with shaking hands and pressed play.

His voice filled my ears, and it was him, it was all of him, the rooftop and the coffee and the two months apart and the way he looked at me like I was home, and by the second chorus I was crying because he had put into words things I didn't even know how to say.

The last line of the song was: `If the moon brings you back to me, I'll be here at 2 AM.`

I called him immediately, and he picked up on the first ring.

"Did you hear it?" he asked, and he sounded nervous.

"I heard it," I said, my voice shaking. "Rayyan... it's beautiful."

There was a long pause. "Are you mad? That I put you in it?"

"I'm not mad," I said. "I'm proud. Of you. Of us."

He sighed in relief. "Good. Because there's something else."

"What?"

"Come to the rooftop. Now."

It was 12:30 AM. I didn't even change. I just threw on his hoodie and ran.

When I got to the rooftop he was there, with his guitar and a small speaker, and the song was playing softly in the background, and there were fairy lights strung up that I had never seen before.

"You did all this?" I asked.

"For you," he said. "Because the song is out there now and everyone knows it's about you, and I wanted you to know that I meant every word of it."

He walked up to me and took my hands. "Aira, I don't know what the future looks like. I have shows and recordings and maybe more touring. And you have school and exams and a whole life to build. But I know that I want you in it. All of it."

My heart was pounding. "Rayyan..."

"I love you," he said simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world to say. "I fell in love with you on a rooftop at 2 AM and I don't want to fall out of it."

The song ended in the background and the only sound was the wind.

"I love you too," I whispered. "Stupid. And scared. And completely."

He smiled, that real smile that reached his eyes, and then he kissed me, slow and sure, with the moon watching us and his song still echoing in the air.

Later that night, after we had talked for hours and laughed and cried, he played me a new song he had written, one that wasn't sad, one that sounded like hope, and he said it was for the next single.

"What's it called?" I asked, laying my head on his shoulder.

"`Official`," he said. "Because that's what we are now."

And as I fell asleep on the rooftop with his jacket over me and his arm around me, I thought that maybe this was what healing felt like, finding someone in the dark and choosing to stay in the light together.

[TO BE CONTINUED...]