Page 55 of Siren

He leaned in. “You did something holy in here, Sienna.”

My throat clenched. I wasn’t ready for that.

But he didn’t push. Just sat there, holding the space like he knew how sacred this moment was.

“I’ve seen magic in this room,” he said. “But that? That was something else.”

I closed my eyes because this—this—was the part no one clapped for. The part no one captured. The part that wouldn’t trend on timelines or be used for clickbait. This was the truth.

And I’d finally found the courage tosingit.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“You know,” he murmured, “for a long time… women only wanted me for the shine. The noise. The flash.”

I blinked. Still coming down.

“They didn’t know my mom’s name. Didn’t know what I was working through. Just knew what I could give them. The access.”

I didn’t expect that. But I understood it more than I wanted to.

“Only one person ever saw me before the shine,” he added. “Before the plaques. Before the streams.”

“Amaya,” I whispered.

He nodded. “She wantedmebefore all of this. And she still does. She ain’t impressed by what I got—she’s moved by how I move. And when you feel that? When somebody wantsyour core, not just your image?” He paused. “It shifts something.”

I swallowed hard. Something thick rising in my chest.

He leaned in. “I don’t know what’s going through your head right now. But I see how the game plays you. I see what it’s doing out there. And I know what it feels like to be praised publicly but misunderstood privately. To be branded as something convenient, when you’re carryingso much morethan they could ever write in a caption.”

I blinked fast. Still listening. Still hearing the last note of my song behind his words.

“You’re not somebody’s side story,” he said. “You’re the whole headline. And if they can’t see it, that’s their blindness. Not your burden.”

I pressed the bottle to my lips but didn’t drink.

“You laid something down today that was bigger than music,” he added. “It was truth. And I know pain when I hear it.”

I nodded slowly.

“And if you ever want to take that pain and build something beautiful out of it?” He cracked the faintest smile. “I got strings. Keys. Space. Just say the word.”

That made my chest ache all over again—but in a different way.

“What’s it called?” he asked, softly.

I didn’t think I had an answer but… rose from my throat like it had been waiting.

“Echo of Your Flame.”

“Dope. I love it,” he nodded.

I glanced over at him, voice softer now. “You ever gonna marry her?”

He leaned back, eyes warming. “When you agree to sing on the proposal track I’ve been working on.”

My lips parted, caught off guard. “Me?”

---