Page 14 of Catastrophically Yours
"I'm working on figuring that out," she said finally.
Piper nodded, accepting the incomplete answer. As they climbed the stairs together, Drew caught herself stealing glances at Piper's profile, wondering what she thought of tonight's chaos.
When they reached the door and Piper handed her the keys without comment, something settled in Drew's chest. Whatever questions tonight had raised, whatever complications Chris might bring, she had this—the simple companionship of someone who didn't need her to be anything other than exactly who she was.
Even if she was still figuring out who that person might be.
SIX
UNCHARTED TERRITORY
The digital clock read 3:17 AM when Piper gave up on sleep. Chris's voice echoed in her mind—smooth, confident, loaded with implications she couldn't shake.She still needs me to reach her potential.
She slipped from bed and pulled on her running clothes. Twenty minutes later, her feet found their familiar beat along the river path, but today her mind resisted its usual organization. Chris represented Drew's past—someone who'd defined her limits, convinced her she needed guidance. But Piper had watched Drew perform, had seen how the audience leaned in when she played. That wasn't someone who needed fixing.
By the time she climbed the stairs to her apartment, one truth had crystallized: she cared about Drew's decision more than a roommate should.
She unlocked the door quietly, expecting Drew to still be asleep. Instead, Drew sat at the kitchen table with Pickle sprawled across her lap, phone face-up beside her coffee mug.
"You're up early," Piper said, setting her keys down.
Drew looked up with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Couldn't sleep. Pickle decided to stage a pre-dawn cuddleintervention." She scratched behind the cat's ears. "How was your run?"
"Good. Needed to clear my head." Piper poured coffee, noting the half-empty pot. "Want a refill?"
Drew lifted her mug, and Piper caught sight of the phone screen—a series of text messages with Chris's name at the top. Drew noticed her glance and sighed. "He's... persistent."
Piper handed over the refill. "Want to talk about it?"
Drew scrolled through messages. "He's being more specific about this opportunity. Apparently there's a showcase coming up—A&R people from Meridian Records will be there." She met Piper's eyes. "That's a major label. The kind that can actually change someone's career."
"That sounds significant." Piper sat across from her, wrapping her hands around her mug.
"It is." Drew turned the phone so Piper could see the screen. "Look at this."
Piper read the messages, Chris's words jumping out:Perfect timing for comeback,Always knew you had it,Just need the right guidance to shine. Each message felt calculated, designed to reel Drew back in.
"He wants to help me prepare," Drew continued. "Says we work well together, that our musical chemistry was always our strongest asset. The showcase is in two weeks."
Piper handed the phone back. "What do you think?"
"I don't know." Frustration leaked into Drew's voice. "A year ago, I would have jumped at this chance. But now..." She gestured around the kitchen. "Everything's different. I'm different."
"Different how?"
Drew was quiet for a moment. "When Chris and I were together, I was always waiting for permission. Permission to try new songs, to book different venues, to believe I wasgood enough. He made all the decisions because he said he understood the industry better." She met Piper's eyes. "But last night, when he started talking about my 'potential,' all I could think was that I've been developing that potential just fine on my own."
Relief hit Piper hard. "So you don't want to work with him?"
"I didn't say that." Drew's smile turned rueful. "This is a real opportunity, Piper. The kind that might not come around again. Maybe my pride isn't worth passing up a chance to actually make something of my music."
Before Piper could respond, Drew's phone rang. Chris's name appeared on the screen.
"I should probably answer this," Drew said apologetically.
The conversation played out on speaker—Chris's practiced persuasion, the showcase details, the timeline pressure. Piper busied herself with sugar packets, trying not to hang on every word.
When Drew hung up, silence stretched between them.
