Waves Never Wait

El at the studio, alone, late at night

The studio was asleep.

The lights were off. Only the blue glow of the deck display lit the room. The cassette rolled softly, whispering the same hum on loop.

El didn’t know why he kept playing it.
He told himself it was technical — checking for clarity, for noise levels, for missed data.

But he wasn’t listening for pitch.
He was listening for something he couldn’t name.

His hand hovered near the console.

A faint sound—
a splash.
Then a breath, wet and sharp.
And suddenly—

FLASHBACK – El, years ago, Kuala Lumpur

Backstage.
Spotlights bleeding through heavy curtains.
A younger El, dressed clean and glowing with that golden boy shine. People laughing, calling his name. His dad giving him a thumbs up from the front row. His mom holding up her phone to record.

He remembers the heat of the stage. The weight of a thousand expectations wrapped around his throat like a collar.

“You’re gonna make it big,” his teacher once said.
“Just don’t forget who you are.”

Funny.
That’s exactly what happened.

FLASHBACK – A Year Later

The laptop screen glowed with a promise.

El sat in a hotel room with sweat on his palms and the taste of adrenaline in his mouth.
An investment. A chance. A dream.

He’d signed.
Sent the money.
And waited.

Days passed.

Then weeks.

His account was emptied.
His phone calls went unanswered.
And the silence began.

The worst part wasn’t the scam.
It was the look on his dad’s face when he confessed.
The tired, heartbroken silence on the drive back.

That night, they left to clear their heads.
A late dinner. A drive.

El stayed behind.

He was still in the hotel room when the call came.
Then the second.

He doesn’t remember the third.

FLASH – Hospital Room

White light. Tubes. A nurse saying something he didn’t hear.

Pain in his ribs.
Salt on his lips.
Everything echoing.

“You pulled the girl from the water,” the voice had said.
“You’re lucky you didn’t drown, too.”

He didn’t remember the water.

Just the cold.
And the silence.

BACK TO PRESENT – Studio

The tape clicked softly.
End of track.

El leaned back, exhaling shakily.

“That’s why I stayed here.”
“Because the waves don’t talk back.”
“Because this place forgets.”

Except now… it didn’t.

Not since she walked in with her stormy eyes and messy hair and the voice of someone he once tried to save.

He didn't remember her.
Didn’t remember that day.

But something in her hum tugged at something in him.

And he hated it.

Studio door creaks open

El didn’t turn around. He knew it was her.

Sofi’s footsteps padded across the floor, softer this time.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said.

El didn’t reply.

“Or maybe you heard one.”

Still no reply.

She sat beside him. Didn’t speak again.
Just… sat. Like maybe silence was safer now.

The cassette deck clicked. Rewind.
El hit play.

And the hum filled the room once more.