Chemistry, Chaos, and Unspoken Tunes

There was something in the air at Starlight International the next morning—something electric. The music club list had changed everything. People who never talked before were now exchanging shy glances and awkward smiles.

Luna had barely survived brushing her hair when her phone buzzed.

Liya: “Practice today after school. No excuses. Wear something that doesn’t trip you this time.”

Luna: “I have a talent for tripping. Respect the art.”

By the time she arrived at school, her heart was already skipping. Not just for the club, or for singing—but for a pair of unreadable eyes and a piano that somehow remembered her voice.

In class, Ms. Sophia entered with her usual grace. Her eyes scanned the room—students gossiping, doodling, or pretending to be alert. But her gaze lingered a second longer on Ethan, who sat near the window, chin resting on his palm.

The boy was quiet, yes. But his sharpness—the way he observed, calculated—was almost unsettling.

"Alright class,” Ms. Sophia began, “you’ll be working in music pairs this week. We’re exploring emotional expression through sound.”

A collective groan filled the room, except from Luna, who bounced in her seat.

Ms. Sophia smiled. “The pairs have already been decided.”

And then came the twist.

“Luna Mateo and Alan Bryce.”

Luna’s soul left her body.

Alan looked up slowly. No reaction. But Liya, from beside her, smirked like a satisfied fortune teller.

Then…

“Liya James and Edwin Hector.”

Edwin let out a loud “Yes!” and threw a dramatic wink across the room. Liya rolled her eyes, but her cheeks had turned just a shade pink.

“And lastly… Ethan Charles,” Ms. Sophia continued, “you’ll be working independently… unless someone wants to volunteer to join him.”

Silence.

No one moved. No one even looked his way.

Ms. Sophia’s voice was gentle but firm. “Alright then.”

But even as she turned back to the board, she noticed the faintest flicker in Ethan’s expression. A twinge of loneliness, expertly masked.

After school, the music room buzzed again.

Luna entered to find Alan already at the piano. Always one step ahead. Always alone.

“Hey,” she greeted, clutching her lyric sheet like a lifeline.

He nodded. “I thought you’d bail.”

“I considered it,” she admitted. “Then I remembered I actually like you—I mean, your music—I mean…”

Alan raised an eyebrow.

She groaned. “I’m gonna sing now before I dig deeper.”

As she sang, Alan played—without missing a beat. It was as if their sounds were meant to blend. Her melody found his chords effortlessly. And when it ended, the silence felt... full.

"You did great," he said quietly, still not meeting her eyes.

Luna blinked. “Did you just compliment me?”

Alan stood. “Don’t get used to it.”

But the corner of his lips curved. Just slightly.

Meanwhile, across the room, Edwin and Liya’s session was chaos.

“Stop strumming like you're in a rock concert,” Liya snapped.

“I’m expressing passion,” Edwin replied with a flourish. “Try it sometime.”

“You’re expressing volume.”

He leaned in. “Admit it. You’d miss this if I wasn’t your partner.”

Liya turned away, arms crossed—but the tiniest smile escaped. “You’re so annoying.”

“I know. It’s part of my charm.”

In the teacher’s lounge, Ms. Sophia sat quietly grading papers, sipping coffee that had gone cold an hour ago. Her thoughts drifted to Ethan. And… to a name she hadn’t heard in a while.

Lucas Mateo.

Luna’s older brother. A name once scribbled on tech blogs and gaming forums, now whispered across school grounds as the famously unavailable older sibling.

The same man who had—three years ago—sat next to her at a teacher’s seminar and argued about game algorithms and classical music for forty-five straight minutes.

She hadn’t forgotten the spark.

That evening, a sleek black car pulled up in front of the school. Lucas Mateo, dressed in a crisp button-up and jeans, stepped out like he had walked off a magazine cover.

He was here to pick up Luna, who had apparently left her school ID and lunchbox in the music room.

Ms. Sophia happened to be walking by.

Their eyes met.

A pause.

Then Lucas, ever the gentleman, gave a polite nod. “Ms. Sophia.”

She blinked. “Lucas Mateo. I see fame hasn’t made you punctual.”

He smirked. “And you’re still correcting people in one sentence or less.”

Luna watched from the door, wide-eyed. “Do you guys… know each other?”

Lucas and Sophia both spoke at the same time.

“Briefly.”

“Unfortunately.”

They turned to each other again.

Silence.

Then, laughter.

Unknown to them, Ethan, standing nearby with his bag slung over his shoulder, noticed something curious—how Ms. Sophia’s usual calm seemed to crack when Lucas spoke.

And for the first time… Ethan smiled.

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