Chapter Six

Maggie

I stare at my closet like it’s some kind of cosmic puzzle. What does one wear to dinner with a guy who spent all of rehearsal pretending she didn’t exist? Not that I’m bitter.

I should keep it casual, maybe jeans and a sweater or something. It’s just dinner, right? Jonah’s probably not thinking twice about what he’s wearing. But somehow, I can’t help wanting to put in a little extra effort.

I grab a soft, fitted turtleneck in a deep red, it’s festive enough without screaming holiday overload , and pair it with my favorite dark skinny jeans. Comfortable, cute, but not trying too hard.

As I pull on my knee-high boots, I glance at my reflection and bite my lip. Maybe a little mascara? A swipe of gloss? Okay, maybe I am trying a little.

For reasons I can’t fully explain, I rummage through my drawer and pull out my lacy black-and-gold set of matching underwear. It’s ridiculous, there’s no way Jonah’s going to see it, but it makes me feel good. Confident. Like I have a little secret no one else knows.

I wrap myself in a thick coat, scarf, and gloves because it’s freezing outside. My breath fogs in the air the second I step out of my building, the cold biting at my cheeks. It’s only a two-block walk to the diner, but I pick up the pace, the brisk air sharpening my focus.

As I round the corner, my nerves kick up. He probably won’t even apologize properly. But something about him, about the way he looks at me when he lets his guard down, makes me feel like this dinner might actually mean something.

When I see him standing outside the diner, my heart does this little fluttery thing I refuse to name. He’s leaning against the wall, hands shoved in the pockets of his black coat, a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. His breath forms soft clouds in the icy air, and the glow from the neon sign above him lights up his face.

He’s here early.

Scratch that —he’s here before me . I peek at my phone. I’m ten minutes early myself.

The thought warms me even more than the layers I’ve bundled myself in. He straightens when he sees me, pushing off the wall, and for a moment, I see something flicker in his expression. Relief, maybe?

“Hey,” I say as I approach.

“Hey,” he replies, his voice low and steady. “You’re early.”

“You’re earlier,” I point out, and his lips twitch into something that’s almost a smile.

“Figured I owed you one,” he says, opening the door for me. “Let’s get out of the cold.”

As I step inside, the warmth of the diner wraps around me, but it’s not just the temperature. It’s the way Jonah’s presence lingers, steady and unspoken, that makes me feel like maybe this dinner is going to be more than just an apology.

***

Jonah

She’s sitting across from me in this tiny diner booth, her scarf draped over the back of her chair, her cheeks still pink from the cold. She looks warm and approachable, but I can see the edge of curiosity in her green eyes, waiting for me to speak.

I take a deep breath, staring down at the chipped mug of coffee in my hands before meeting her gaze. “Look, Maggie, I owe you an apology. I was a complete ass at rehearsal. You didn’t deserve that.”

Her brows lift slightly like she’s surprised I’m actually saying the words. “You were kind of an ass,” she says, but there’s no heat in it. “What was going on with you?”

I sigh, leaning back in the booth. “A lot of stuff. Conversations I didn’t want to have. People pushing buttons I didn’t even know I had. But that’s not an excuse. I was in my head, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

She studies me for a moment, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Okay. Apology accepted. But I’m going to need details if I’m going to fully understand this mysterious ‘stuff’ you’re dealing with.”

I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “You don’t let up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to people I care about.” The words come so easily to her, and they hit me harder than I expected. She doesn’t even realize how much weight they carry.

I run a hand through my hair, hesitating. Opening up isn’t exactly my strong suit, but something about Maggie makes it feel safe.

“It’s my band,” I say finally. “You know, Reckless Mercy ? We’ve been together for years, and somehow, I got stuck with the ‘bad boy’ label. It was fine at first —hell, I even leaned into it. But now...” I pause, searching for the right words. “Now it’s like I’m trapped. Every mistake I make, every impulsive decision, it’s all magnified. It’s like the world expects me to screw up, and sometimes it feels easier to live up to the role.”

Maggie’s expression softens as she rests her chin on her hand. “That sounds exhausting.”

“It is.” I rub the back of my neck, feeling the weight of it all pressing down. “And the guys, they’re not exactly helping. Half the time, I don’t even know if I want to do this anymore. I love music, but the rest of it? The drama, the fights, the image —it’s not who I am anymore.”

She nods slowly, her gaze thoughtful. “I get that. People see me as the ‘pop princess,’ and no matter what I do, I can’t shake it. That’s why this musical means so much to me. It’s my chance to show people I’m more than that.”

Her words strike a chord deep inside me, and I find myself leaning forward. “Do you ever feel like... like you don’t even recognize yourself sometimes?”

“All the time,” she admits, her voice quiet but steady. “But I think the key is figuring out who you really are, and then not being afraid to fight for it.”

Her honesty floors me, and for a moment, I can’t look away from her. She’s so open, so unguarded, and it makes me wonder how someone like her could ever see anything worthwhile in someone like me.

“You make it sound so simple,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, but the doubt creeps in anyway.

“It’s not,” she says, giving me a knowing smile. “But it’s worth it.”

Her words settle over me, warm and reassuring, but that nagging voice in the back of my mind is already whispering. Telling me I’m not good enough, that someone like Maggie deserves better.

Sitting here with her, seeing the way she looks at me like I’m not a total screw-up, maybe I could be better. Maybe, with her, I could figure it out.