Track Three
"How the fuck do i go about this...what should I say?"
Daniela's "get in the studio plan" isn't as easy as she thought it would be.
At first the idea was to use the girls as a reason to get into the studio.
A casual group thing. A safe reason. But her idea falls apart the longer she sits and thinks about it.
How would that work if she wants to be the only one there?
She loved the girls but she honestly wanted it to be just the two of you.
She wants your full attention.
That thought alone makes her pause.
She rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling, phone balanced in her hand. She opens your profile again not to scroll again, just to sit there. Staring at the message bar that she hasn't touched yet. Asking outright feels too forward, but waiting feels like a missed opportunity. Then it clicks.
She doesn't have to make it personal. She can still make it about music just a little differently.
Daniela opens the group chat.
Daniela: Random question... does anyone know if Y/N is open to doing reference sessions?
She thinks a reference session could be a great reason, not a final track, just ideas and concepts.
A few dots appear. Disappear. Then comes a response.
Megan: Yeah, I think so. Why?
Lara: I've heard they're really selective though.
That settles something in her chest instead of scaring her.
Selective means intentional.
Daniela types slower now.
Daniela: I just want another ear on something. Nothing serious.
Nothing serious.
That's the lie she tells herself.
An hour later, Megan texts her privately.
Megan: I can ask management. Might take a day or two.
Daniela exhales, relief mixing with nerves.
Later that night, she opened Instagram again. Your name sits there, quiet, unchanged. No stories. No new posts. She hovers over the message button this time but still doesn't press it.
Not yet.
If this happens, she wants it to make sense.
And if it doesn't?
She tells herself she'll let it go.
But deep down, she already knows she won't.
You don't mean to open her profile again.
It just... happens.
The studio is quiet, only noise is equipment humming softly, lights dimmed low enough to keep you focused. You're supposed to be working. You are working. At least, you were.
Daniela's profile sits open on your phone.
You scroll slower this time.
Not because you're trying to read into anything but because there's something about the way she presents herself that feels intentional. Nothing feels curated for attention. No captions trying to explain too much. Just moments, movement, sound.
You pause on a video of her singing. Raw. Unpolished. No heavy production. Just her voice filling the room through your speakers.
You play it again.
You think about the way she listened to the music at the party. The way she noticed silence instead of noise. That alone had caught your attention more than you wanted to admit.
She didn't rush, you think. Didn't ask. Didn't take it.
You lock your phone and lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling for a second longer than necessary.
You've worked with enough people to know the difference between curiosity and intention.
And you're not sure which one this is yet.
You pick your phone back up, thumb hovering over her profile again.
Focus, you remind yourself.
Still, the thought settles quietly in your chest:
If she ever asked to work, you wouldn't say no.
That realization sits heavier than you expect.
"Lemme get my ass back to work" you say
But just as you're about to do that.
Your phone buzzes while you're mid-session.
You barely glance at it at first—probably another email, another reschedule, another request you'll think about later. But when you see the sender, you pause.
You step away from the board, opening the message slowly.
"Nigga..." you say in your head
"Every time i'm tryna not think too much about her, this girl somehow pops back up"
But they keep the email professional. Brief. They're looking for a producer to sit in on a reference session. No pressure. No commitment. Just an extra ear. Daniela's name comes up once, casually, like it isn't the reason your chest tightens just a little.
You reread it anyway.
"I mean what could happen?'' you say
You don't respond right away. You never do.
But you know you're going to say yes.
Daniela finds out later that afternoon.
Megan tells her first, excitement obvious even through the phone. Management found someone. A producer who fits the direction they want. Someone intentional. Someone lowkey.
Someone she already knows.
Daniela hangs up and stares at her screen for a long moment.
This time, she doesn't hesitate.
She opens your messages, fingers hovering before she finally types:
She reads it twice. Then a third time.
Casual. Professional. Safe.
She hits send before she can overthink it.
Your phone lights up again. This time, you don't ignore it. You read her message once. Then again, a small breath leaves you before you realize you've been holding it.
You don't rush to reply but you don't put the phone down either. For the first time since the party, the path forward feels clear. Not forced.
You read her message again, slower this time. Casual. Professional. Like she's giving you space instead of taking it. You respect that more than you want to admit.
Your thumb hovers for a second before you type back.
You keep it simple. No extra words. No emojis.
Still, as soon as the message is sent, you feel it.
A small smile; barely there creeps onto your face before you can stop it.
You shake your head at yourself, turning back to the board.
Focus, you remind yourself. It's just work...
But the thought doesn't stick the way it usually does.