13 #2
‘I know Mel printed a photo from that night,’ Tash said, her voice warming.
‘She pinned it above her desk in our old place. It was of the four of us. Me, Mel, you and him. Grinning at half-time with the beers Mel had grabbed as a thanks for the tickets. She loved that photo, said you would be a famous radio DJ one day.’
Mack snorted.
Tash hesitated, then added, ‘She would’ve stashed it somewhere. Probably in a shoebox. She could easily be on an episode of Hoarders.’
The memory surfaced. Blurry edges, the hum of the crowd behind them, Mel laughing, holding a plastic cup high like a trophy. Leo behind her, his arm brushing against her shoulder, easy and unforced.
‘You remember it?’ Tash asked, hopeful.
Blake smiled into the mic, her chest tight. ‘Yeah. I remember.’
‘I don’t know if she still has it,’ Tash said. ‘But if anyone would…it’d be Mel.’
Sam tapped a note across the producer screen. Existing photo??
Mack leaned towards the mic, grinning. ‘So we might actually have proof this guy existed. Not just Blake’s beer goggles?’
The studio laughed, but Blake could feel the current of something real rising under it.
‘I still have her number,’ Tash said. ‘But it’s from, like, ten years ago. She’s been travelling ever since. I haven’t tried it in years, so…I have no idea if it’s even still hers.’
‘That’s all right,’ Mack said. ‘We’ll pass you back to our producer and see if we can hunt down the mysterious Mel.’
‘You’re serious?’ Tash asked, breathless.
‘Dead serious,’ Blake said. ‘If there’s even a chance that photo still exists, we want to find it.’
‘Okay,’ Tash said. ‘I’ll give them everything I’ve got.’
‘Thank you, Tash,’ Blake said. ‘You might’ve just changed everything.’
The ON AIR light dimmed as Sam hit the music.
Britt immediately moved behind the glass, headset on, already reaching for the phone.
The airlock door swung open and Chelsea rushed into the studio, headset half-on, moving fast to Blake’s side. Her usual composed energy crackled with urgency.
‘Britt’s trying the old number for Mel now, no luck so far,’ Chelsea said. ‘We’ve still got a whole bank of callers waiting, but nothing as strong as this. If we get onto Mel, we’re taking it live.’
Blake nodded, adrenaline surging.
Chelsea glanced at Sam and Mack, confirming the plan with a quick nod, then slipped back through the airlock.
Mack rubbed his hands together. ‘Things are heating up,’ he said under his breath.
Sam threw a hand signal. Standby.
Mack leaned into the mic as the track wound down. ‘That was “Good Luck, Babe!” by Chappell Roan,’ he said. ‘Twenty-seven past seven. Cloudy this morning across the city. Heading for a top of twenty-six.’
He let the weather settle, then pushed forward.
‘All right, Melbourne, quick recap. Moments ago we had Tash call through. She reckons she spotted Blake and Leo at a Pies footy match back in 2013. And get this. She thinks her ex-girlfriend might have photo evidence.’
He paused, leaning closer. ‘We are trying to track that ex down right now. So if you were friends with a Mel who dated a Tash back in 2013, hit her up. Let her know we’re looking for her.’
Mack glanced at the producer screen.
Sam gave a subtle thumbs-up.
Mack grinned. ‘Ahh, looky, looky. Line three just lit up again. Our producers reckon it might be her.’
He waited as Britt waved frantically from behind the glass.
‘Fingers crossed, Melbourne,’ Mack said. ‘You’re live across Melbourne with Mack and Blake in the Morning. Who have we got here?’
‘Hi, it’s Mel, from Daylesford,’ came a stunned voice. ‘I just got a message from a friend in the city saying I needed to call this number immediately.’
Blake leaned forward. ‘Mel, it’s Blake here. We just had your ex-girlfriend Tash call through. She remembered meeting me and a guy at the footy thirteen years ago. I gave you both tickets. She also mentioned that you might’ve taken a photo of the four of us at half-time.’
Blake drew a breath, steadying herself.
‘And now, thirteen years later, we’re keen to find that photo…and we’re trying to find the guy, Leo. We’re hoping you might be able to help us.’
There was a beat.
Mel’s voice warmed immediately, rushing with memory. ‘Oh, yes! Of course I remember. Tash and I were obsessed with each other back then. And I remember you! You were so sweet to give us those seats, we would have had general admission GA otherwise and it was an ace game.’
Mack teased. ‘And what’s the love-life situation these days?’
Mel laughed. ‘Recently single. Perpetually single really.’
‘And if I asked,’ Mack added, dragging it out playfully, ‘would you say Tash was the one that got away?’
There was a pause, a real one. The kind that made the studio still.
‘You know what?’ Mel said. ‘Maybe.’
Blake smiled, her chest constricting with the weight of it.
Mack leaned forward, his voice dropping. ‘Well…buckle up, Mel. Because Tash is still on the line.’
There was a sharp intake of breath. Mel’s.
A stunned silence.
Then a tiny voice, soft but clear: ‘Hi, Mel,’ Tash said, live across the city.
Mel gasped. ‘Oh my god. Tash?’
‘Yeah,’ Tash said, her voice catching. ‘I heard what you said.’
Mel let out a shaky laugh, almost a sob. ‘I can’t believe it’s you.’
There was a thick, charged pause, something huge hovering between them.
‘I didn’t go with you,’ Tash said. ‘But I never stopped wondering what would’ve happened if I had.’
‘Me neither,’ Mel whispered.
The studio stayed silent. Mack and Blake letting the moment breathe.
Finally, Blake spoke, voice gentle.
‘If you’re both up for it, we’ve still got a stack of second-date vouchers here from an old promo. No pressure. Just…options.’
Mel laughed again, lighter, almost giddy. ‘That sounds amazing.’
Tash laughed too, soft and full of something electric. ‘I’d love that.’
Behind the glass, Chelsea threw her arms up in triumph, and Britt wiped her eyes.
Blake smiled, the warmth of the moment buzzing under her ribs. But she forced herself to stay focused.