The midnight mix

Chapter 7

The production set for UKT Records was a massive, high-tech soundstage that looked more like a small city than a studio. Today was the marathon shoot four music videos, four completely different concepts, all packed into a grueling fourteen-hour schedule.

The internet was already in a state of absolute meltdown outside. Leaked photos of the set design had hit Twitter at 6:00 AM, and the hype was deafening. But inside the dressing rooms, the air was thick with a very different kind of energy.

Cairo sat in his chair, a makeup artist trying to cover a tiny nick on his jaw from his last boxing match. He hadn't slept more than three hours. Every time he closed his eyes, his brain replayed the sound of his own heartbeat echoing inside his helmet, or the faint scent of red roses. He looked like a storm cloud ready to break.

The door to the adjacent dressing room clicked open, and Liora stepped out.

Cairo’s breath caught in his throat. For the first music video, the Sad Song Liora was styled in a flowing, distressed white silk shirt that hung loosely off one shoulder, her ink-black hair styled to look damp, as if she’d been caught in a downpour. She looked ethereal, fragile, and utterly devastating.

Liora’s dark blue eyes met Cairo’s violet ones. For a second, the memory of the bike ride hung between them, thick and unacknowledged. Then, Liora gave a faint nod. "Don't forget your lines, Rap Monster."

"Don't trip over your own feet, Princess," Cairo shot back, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

Set 1: The Sad Song ("The Rain on the Concrete")

The concept was simple but emotionally heavy. It was set in a dimly lit, artificial alleyway with a rain machine pouring down freezing water. The song was about loneliness, a callback to their separate pasts.

"Action!" the director shouted.

Liora stood under the pouring water, her vocals cutting through the studio with a haunting, melancholic beauty. She sang about being invisible, about going to bed hungry in a world full of excess. Cairo watched from the dry edge of the set, something raw twisting in his chest. He knew that pain.

When it was Cairo’s turn to

step into the rain for his verse, his rap wasn't just fast, it was angry. He spit lyrics about betrayal, about the streets swallowing you whole. They didn't touch during this video; they stood on opposite sides of a chain-link fence, their eyes locked through the metal grid.

The director was ecstatic. The sheer, tragic distance between them was palpable.

"Cut! Brilliant! Moving to Set 2!"

Set 2: The Romantic Song ("A Place to Land")

The second set was a massive shift. The production crew had built a stunning, minimalist digital loft surrounded by artificial warm sunlight. It was the song inspired by Cairo’s breakthrough at Liora’s house.

For this, Cairo was styled in a soft, cream-colored knit sweater a massive contrast to his usual leather while Liora wore a fitted pastel blue shirt that accentuated her slim waist.

The director called for interaction. "Alright, guys, the fans want chemistry. Cairo, I want you sitting on the edge of the sofa, writing in a notebook. Liora, you approach him, take the pen, and hand him a mug. Look at each other like you’re the only two people in the city." Both Liora and Cairo scoff, rolling their eyes at each other.

They took their positions. When the music started, Liora walked over, her movements fluid and soft. She reached down, her fingers brushing against Cairo’s as she took the prop pen.

Cairo looked up, intending to give his usual smirk, but as he met Liora's steady, deep blue gaze beneath the warm stage lights, the smirk died.

Cairo's hand went to Liora’s wrist, not a harsh grip like at the traffic light, but a slow, lingering touch. Liora didn't pull away. She leaned slightly into the space, her vocals blending flawlessly with Cairo’s soft backing track.

"Perfect! The eye contact is insane!" the director yelled through the megaphone. "Hold that pose! Cut!"

Set 3: The Mix Track ("The Neon Rumble")

This was the chaotic, high-energy track where their styles crashed together. The set was a futuristic Tokyo-style street with blinking neon signs in purple and blue. It was fast, loud, and full of choreography.

They had to move together, dancing and trading lines face-to-face like a high-stakes battle. Cairo’s aggressive, heavy footsteps countered Liora’s sharp, precise, balletic turns. At one point in the choreography, Cairo had to spin Liora around, catching her by the waist from behind to pull her into a fast synchronized step, a literal mirror of how Liora had held onto him on the motorcycle.

When Cairo’s large hand clamped onto Liora’s hip to execute the turn, he felt Liora's breath hitch against his neck.

They nailed the step, their faces inches apart as the neon lights flashed over them, both of them flushed and breathing heavily. It was pure adrenaline.

Set 4: The Intimate Song ("The First Who Ever Did")

By the time they reached the final set, it was 11:00 PM. The crew was exhausted, but the atmosphere on the stage had completely changed. The final set was a closed set, only the director, the camera operators, and the managers were allowed inside.

The setting was a vast, dark room with a single, massive pane of glass in the center, mimicking a recording booth, surrounded by hundreds of glowing amber candles. The song was the emotional core of the entire project.

"Listen to me," the director said, stepping up to them. "This isn't about dancing. It’s about vulnerability. The song is called 'The First Who Ever Did.' I need you to break down the walls. Cairo, you start on one side of the glass, Liora on the other. Midway through the chorus, Cairo, you step around. You need to hold her. Gently. Like you’re afraid she’ll break, but you’re more afraid to let her go."

Liora’s ears went pink, her eyes dropping to the floor. Cairo cleared his throat, his knuckles whitening as he nodded. "Got it."

"Music... and Action."

The haunting piano melody filled the quiet room. Liora stood behind the glass, her hand pressed against the pane, her voice cracking slightly with raw emotion as she delivered the opening lines. On the other side, Cairo watched her, the amber candlelight reflecting in Liora’s tears which were real, drawn from the heavy memories of her fourteen-year-old self starving in a cold apartment.

“There's things I wanna say to you... but I'll just let you live...”

Cairo walked around the glass. His boots made no sound on the dark floor. He stepped into Liora’s space, his massive 6'1" frame completely overshadowing Giyu’s 5'6" form.

According to the script, he was supposed to just place his hands on Liora’s shoulders. But as Cairo looked down at Liora seeing the vulnerability, the slight tremble in her lower lip, and the absolute trust in her dark blue eyes, the script didn't matter anymore.

Cairo reached out, his large, scarred arms wrapping entirely around Liora’s waist, pulling the smaller singer flush against his chest. Liora gasped softly, her hands instinctively coming up to rest on Cairo’s broad shoulders, her fingers clutching the fabric of Cairo’s shirt.

Liora stunned for a second, her mind was telling her to push him away but she couldn't, she just froze it was the first time ever someone held her like that, she stared at him.

They stood there in the center of the candles, completely wrapped up in each other. Cairo leaned down, his forehead gently resting against Liora’s, his breath warm against Liora’s cheek.

Liora couldn't breathe, she blinks, she swallows telling herself it was for camera.

"Like if you hold me without hurting me..." Liora whispered, her voice trembling as she sang the final line right into Cairo's space.

"...you will be the first who ever did," Cairo finished, his raspy voice dropping to a whisper so low it barely registered on the microphone.

Cairo’s grip tightened, his hand sliding up to cup the back of Liora’s head, burying his fingers in the soft black hair, pulling her securely into his warmth. Liora closed her eyes, completely burying her face into the crook of Cairo’s neck, letting the scent of leather and cedar wood erase every bad memory he had ever carried.

For ten long seconds after the music stopped, neither of them moved. The entire studio was dead silent. Cassian and Axel watched from the monitors, their eyes wide. Cassian planning the way he can murder Cairo for touching Liora like that Meanwhile Axel grinning, his ship finally in act.

"Cut," the director whispered, completely awed. "That’s... that’s a wrap. We’re done."

When they finally pulled apart, both of their faces were burning red. Liora couldn't look Cairo in the eye, quickly turning to grab her Coca cola bottle, her hands shaking. As she tries to drink her comfort soda to calm down.

Cairo turned away, ruffling his hair violently, his heart hammering a frantic, deafening rhythm against his ribs.

They had given the director a music video, but inside that circle of candles, they both knew it wasn't acting anymore.