The midnight mix

Chapter 13

The heavy, double-pane mahogany doors of the luxury Los Angeles penthouse clicked shut, officially locking out the buzzing energy of the city, the heat of the paparazzi, and the watchful eyes of their managers.

For the next seven days, this massive, high-ceilinged apartment overlooking the glittering hills of LA was their designated sanctuary.

It took exactly three minutes for the peace to shatter.

A synchronized, heavy groan of utter annoyance echoed through the marble entryway as both solo artists dropped their designer duffel bags onto the floor.

"One week," Cairo growled, running a rough hand through his chaotic white hair as he looked around the spacious, modern living area. "Seven whole days locked in a cage with a prissy diva who filters her friends based on text message punctuation. If I lose my mind and jump off the balcony, Axel better cover my funeral costs."

Liora didn't even look at him as she neatly aligned her white sneakers by the closet door, her voice a cool, deadpan whisper.

"If you jump, Cairo , please do it quietly. Some of us value a peaceful environment, and your voice already violates the local noise ordinances."

"Why you__"

Before the first official argument could escalate into a physical scuffle, they retreated to their respective bedrooms at opposite ends of the hallway.

Within just a few hours of their arrival, the fundamental, cosmic differences between their lifestyles became a domestic war zone.

Cairo room looked like a literal tornado had touched down. His heavy leather jackets were flung carelessly over the back of a pristine velvet armchair, his combat boots were kicked into a corner, his lyric notebooks were scattered across the king-sized mattress, and his phone charger was tangled around a modern floor lamp. He lived in a state of comfortable, aggressive chaos.

Liora room, on the other hand, was an absolute temple of meticulous order.

Despite the grueling fourteen-hour flight and the lingering, dull ache in her jaw from her TMJ, Liora remained absolutely unshakable in her daily routine. She spent a solid forty-five minutes in her private bathroom, executing her multi-step skincare regimen with zero shortcuts. She washed away the heavy airport grime, meticulously applied her hydrating lotions, and finished with her signature red roses perfume.

But she didn't stop there.

Moving with the precise, delicate grace of a dancer, Liora took a tiny, precious dropper of concentrated red roses perfume oil, rubbing just a single, micro-drop between his small hands before gently working it through the damp, soft ends of her ink-black hair. She shed her travel gear, sliding into a pair of impossibly soft, oversized cream-colored lounge pants and a loose silk sleeping shirt a completely separate, designated sleeping suit that smelled faintly of expensive florals.

Clean, perfect, and smelling like a botanical garden, Liora glided into the kitchen to claim her ultimate prize: a cold, crisp glass of Coca-Cola.

Liora was a woman of very few vices, but her obsession with Coca-Cola was legendary within the closed circles of UKT Records. She didn't just like it; she treated the carbonated beverage like a sacred ritual.

She loved the sharp, icy burn of the first sip, the perfect fizz, and the way it instantly woke up her senses. She opened the massive stainless-steel refrigerator, her dark blue eyes scanning the shelves until they locked onto the literal last two-liter bottle in the penthouse.

Liora reached for it, but a heavy, scarred arm abruptly shot over her shoulder, snatching the bottle right out of the air.

"Thanks, Princess. Just what I needed," Cairo muttered, his chest pressing briefly against Liora's back as he hijacked the soda.

Before Liora could even process the theft, Cairo twisted the cap off, lifted the heavy two-liter bottle directly to his lips, and took three massive, aggressive gulps straight from the nozzle, the liquid fizzing loudly down his throat.

Liora froze solid. Her jaw practically locked from sheer, unadulterated horror.

"You..." Liora's voice trembled, a rare, high-pitched whine breaking through her usual monotone calm. She looked at the bottle, then at Cairo's mouth, her hands curling into tight, helpless fists at her sides.

"You drank directly from the main bottle. Your backwash is in the entire reservoir. It is contaminated. It is completely ruined."

"Oh, cry me a river," Cairo scoffed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a teasing, wicked smirk lighting up his violet eyes as he set the defiled bottle onto the counter. "It’s just soda, princess. Drink around it. Or are my germs too aggressive for your high standards?"

"It is disgusting. You are an absolute barbarian," Liora whined, her lower lip putting out a furious, childlike pout. She looked so genuinely devastated, as if Cairo had just painted graffiti over a historical monument. "I refuse to speak to you. Do not look at me for the rest of the day."

Liora turned on her heel, marching out of the kitchen with her chin held high, aggressively ignoring Cairo's booming, unfiltered laughter echoing behind him.

For the next two hours, the silent treatment was absolute. Liora retreated to the massive leather living room couch. She threw her legs over the cushions, her silk sleeping suit shifting slightly, while her long, dark black hair spilled entirely across the armrest like a dramatic pool of spilled black ink. The faint, sweet scent of red roses and perfume oil slowly drifted across the room, filling the shared space. She held her phone up, her thumb mindlessly tapping the screen to pretend she was deeply engrossed in a complex article, but in reality, she was just staring blankly at the screen, grumpy as humanly possible, her inner five-year-old throwing a silent tantrum over her lost beverage.

Cairo sat at the kitchen island, watching the dramatic display over his lyric notebook. He shook his head, a soft, involuntary smile tugging at his lips. She looks like a moody cat, Cairo thought, thoroughly enjoying how much he had managed to rattle the untouchable star.

But Liora's stubbornness was a powerful force. As the clock ticked past 4:00 PM, her intense craving for that crisp, icy carbonation reached a breaking point. Her dignity was important, but her psychological need for a cold Coca-Cola was apparently worth more than his own safety.

Moving with absolute stealth while Cairo was distracted in the kitchen, Liora slipped back into her bedroom. She didn't want to call Cassian to complain, that would prove she couldn't handle living with Cairo. She was going to handle this herself.

Three minutes later, Liora sneaked back through the hallway, completely unrecognizable. She had put on a massive, oversized floor-length black puffer coat, pulled her bucket hat down to her nose, wrapped a thick wool scarf around her lower face, and slid her dark sunglasses on. She looked like an international spy attempting to cross a hostile border in the dead of winter, despite the fact that it was a sunny, warm afternoon.

She quietly turned the deadbolt of the penthouse door, slipping out into the hallway without a sound, entirely focused on a solo mission to find the nearest convenience store.

When the front door softly clicked shut, Cairo walked into the living room, holding a pen.

He looked at the empty couch where the pool of black hair had just been, then glanced toward the entryway. Liora's sneakers were gone, but his keys were missing from the hook.

Cairo walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window, looking down at the private driveway of the complex. A few moments later, a ridiculous, heavily bundled black figure that looked like a moving winter sleeping bag emerged from the lobby doors, walking with a stiff, determined march down the sunny, palm-tree-lined sidewalk toward the corner store.

Cairo stared at the figure for three seconds before a loud, helpless laugh ripped from his chest.

"Are you kidding me?" Cairo muttered, wiping a tear of amusement from his eye as he shook his head. "She actually went out dressed like a stealth bomber just to buy a damn soda. She really is an absolute lunatic."

Cairo tossed his pen onto the coffee table, his violet eyes lingering on the empty couch where the scent of red roses still lingered in the air. The tour had barely even started, but as he waited for his chaotic, Coca-Cola-obsessed roommate to return from her secret mission, Cairo realized this was going to be the longest, most entertaining week of his entire life.