The Rhythm of Us
993 Words
"Some people become part of your day so quietly, you don't notice until the day they're missing."
Amy
Monday had a rhythm.
Alarm.
Coffee.
Traffic.
Crane & Rogers.
Willow & Bean.
Homework.
Sleep.
Repeat.
I liked rhythm.
Engineering depended on it.
Bridges stood because of it.
Buildings remained upright because of it.
Maybe people needed rhythm too.
Predictable things felt safe.
Maybe that's why I didn't notice something had changed until halfway through the morning.
Somewhere along the way...
My rhythm had found another beat.
Every few hours...
I caught myself wondering what Nocturne was doing.
The thought arrived so naturally that I almost laughed.
Ridiculous.
I didn't know him.
I'd never seen his face.
Never heard his voice.
If we passed each other on the street, I wouldn't even recognize him.
Yet somehow...
He had quietly become part of the background music of my day.
"Earth to Amy."
Jordan snapped his fingers in front of my monitor.
I blinked.
"What?"
"You've been staring at that beam calculation for five minutes."
"I have not."
"You absolutely have."
He leaned closer.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
"I look tired."
He grinned.
"You look distracted."
"I am not distracted."
"You've entered the wrong numbers twice."
I looked down.
He was right.
I never entered the wrong numbers.
A wave of embarrassment warmed my cheeks.
"Long weekend?"
"Something like that."
He smiled.
"Whatever has your attention, I hope it's worth making Grace think she's finally found proof you're human."
I laughed.
"I'll try harder."
"I know you will."
As he walked away, I looked back at the screen.
Focus.
Numbers.
Not music.
Not conversations.
Definitely not a mysterious man hiding behind a black mask.
---
Lucas
Mondays demanded efficiency.
By ten o'clock, I'd already approved three contracts, declined two proposals, and scheduled another meeting I had absolutely no interest in attending.
People often confused success with excitement.
Most days...
It was repetition.
Responsibility.
Routine.
I stepped out of the executive conference room and looked toward the engineering floor.
Completely by accident.
At least...
That was the story I kept telling myself.
Amy sat at her desk, completely absorbed in her work.
One hand rested against her chin.
The other tapped lightly against the edge of the desk.
A rhythm.
I smiled.
She was listening to music.
Not through headphones.
Inside her own head.
Noah appeared beside me.
"You did it again."
I sighed.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You smiled."
"I smile."
"You smiled at Engineering."
I looked at him.
"I smile at engineering all the time."
He folded his arms.
"No."
"You smile at one engineer."
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"Drop it."
He chuckled.
"I'm not judging."
"It feels like you are."
"I'm actually impressed."
"By what?"
He shrugged.
"I've known you almost fifteen years."
"So?"
"I've never seen anyone interrupt your workday."
Without meaning to, my eyes drifted back toward the floor.
Amy laughed at something Jordan said.
Her entire expression changed when she laughed.
Not louder.
Brighter.
I realized I'd been watching too long and forced myself to look away.
Quietly, Noah said,
"You deserve to be happy too."
The words followed me long after he'd gone.
---
Amy
By five o'clock, my brain had officially clocked out.
I drove straight to Willow & Bean.
Mrs. Harper smiled before I even reached the counter.
"The usual?"
"Please."
She tilted her head.
"And..."
"You look like you're expecting someone."
I laughed.
"I'm meeting my laptop."
"Mmm."
She wasn't convinced.
Not even a little.
I carried my latte to my favorite table beside the window.
Outside, Detroit disappeared beneath another spring drizzle.
Rain had started feeling comforting lately.
Maybe because it gave everyone permission to slow down.
I opened my playlist.
Nocturne.
One song.
Just one.
The Sweetest Love.
I pressed play.
The opening piano filled my earbuds.
Before the first lyric even began...
I smiled.
Not because of the song.
Because I remembered the conversation that came with it.
"You're smiling again."
Mrs. Harper placed a warm blueberry muffin beside my coffee.
"I didn't order this."
"I know."
"You keep feeding me."
She laughed.
"You keep looking happier."
I looked down.
"Is it really that obvious?"
"Only if someone's paying attention."
I glanced at the playlist still open on my screen.
Maybe happiness didn't always arrive all at once.
Maybe sometimes...
It arrived one conversation at a time.
---
Lucas
7:43 p.m.
My favorite part of the day.
Suit jacket...
Off.
Tie...
Loosened.
Watch...
Placed beside the record player.
Coffee...
Brewing.
The city shimmered beyond the windows of The Rosewood Terrace.
For years, my evenings had followed this exact routine.
Lately...
There had been one more step.
I opened our conversation.
A message from Amy was already waiting.
Amy: How's your Monday?
Such an ordinary question.
Yet somehow...
It felt like someone opening a window in a room I'd forgotten was closed.
I smiled.
Walked toward my records.
Tonight didn't need words.
It needed music.
I found the album.
Lowered the needle.
Listened for a moment.
Then sent her the song.
No explanation.
A minute later—
Amy: You're doing it again.
I laughed.
Nocturne: Doing what?
Amy: Answering with music.
Nocturne: It's becoming a habit.
Her reply came almost immediately.
Amy: I think I'm starting to understand your language.
I stared at the screen.
Something tightened quietly inside my chest.
No one had ever said that to me before.
Not...
"I like your taste in music."
Not...
"That's a good song."
She'd said...
I think I'm starting to understand your language.
Maybe she was.
Because the song wasn't saying...
I had a long day.
Or...
I'm tired.
Or even...
I'm thinking about you.
It was saying something much simpler.
I'm glad you're here.
And somehow...
Without ever hearing my voice...
She understood.
For the first time in years...
Someone was beginning to hear the parts of me that words had never quite managed to reach.
- Writer
