Chapter 7: Boy meets Girl

NOAH

For the entire night, we played our instruments until our fingers burned. We trained for the Jury exam, joked around, argued about who missed more notes, and laughed until our voices cracked. Cassie finally found her missing MP3 player, which she somehow managed to blame me for losing in the first place and everyone was in high spirits.

When it was time to go, Yuki stretched her arms, yawning. "Don’t overwork yourself, Noah," she warned before leaving with the others.

I smiled faintly and waved them off. "I’ll be fine. Just one more song."

Once their footsteps faded, silence took over the station.

Now I was alone again.

Instead of the rooftop, I sat this time in the old intercom room, a small, cluttered space that still smelled faintly of rust and rain. Wolfgang had been trying for weeks to repair the broken equipment, saying one day we’d be able to broadcast our music across town. Maybe even the entire city.

That dream always made me smile.

The chair beneath me was old and damp, its leather cracked and sticky from years of neglect. Moonlight filtered in through the dust-coated window, bathing the room in silver.

I stared at the light. My reflection faintly glimmered back, tired, hollow-eyed, but calm.

And then, my thoughts drifted.

That day… when she appeared.

How was I supposed to explain something like that? "Sorry, Cassie, I fell down the stairs because I saw a glowing ghost girl." She’d never let me live that down.

But still who was she? Why does she look familiar?

I already had enough on my plate, with my parents arriving soon, the Jury exam overlapping with the OCSE, the risk of everything I’ve hidden collapsing. A literal ghost girl shouldn’t be part of my list of problems.

And yet…

There was something about her. The way she looked at me, as if she knew me before I even spoke. As if she had been waiting.

The memory of her face crept into my mind again, soft and luminous. It made me forget everything, my lies, my parents, even the weight pressing on my chest.

Why do I keep seeing her? Why me?

She appeared in the radio station, and then again at school.
Each time, no one else could see her.

Could it be that she’s drawn to my music? Or maybe it’s the other way around, maybe I’m the one calling her without realizing it.

All I know is that when I play… she appears.

So I did what I always do when I can’t make sense of things, I played my guitar.

The old guitar hummed softly in my hands as I began strumming a song my teacher once taught me. The melody flowed through my fingers, steady and calm, like water tracing its way back to a familiar stream.

For a few minutes, the world outside vanished.

No lies. No fear. No parents. No expectations. Just music.

Each chord reminded me of why I ever started. The day my grandfather placed his worn guitar in my lap, his smile patient, his hands trembling but steady. I still remember the way he said, "Don’t play to be perfect. Play to be true."

That was the day music stopped being a subject and became a heartbeat.

And then one day, he disappeared. No explanation. No goodbye. Just gone. I don’t know what happened to him, but everyone in town spoke ill will towards him.

"What happened to you, old man?" I murmured to the air, my fingers slowing over the strings.

The last note rang softly, fading into the night.

I opened my eyes.

Still alone.

The moonlight was the only thing that kept me company. No glowing girl, no song in the wind, no ghostly presence peering from the shadows.

I sighed, resting my guitar against the wall. "Guess even ghosts get tired of me."

I stood, brushing off my jeans, and headed for the door. Reality was waiting and so were my problems.

But as I turned off the light, the faint echo of a hum drifted through the air.

A voice. Soft. Familiar.

I froze. Not out of fear, but curiosity.
I started moving up and down the floors, chasing that voice.

It was her.

She was singing again.

Every time I entered a new hallway, a new room, her voice would drift sometimes distant, sometimes so close it felt like she was right behind the wall. It was maddening. Like chasing an echo that kept slipping through the cracks of reality.

The sound of her melody filled the empty corridors, weaving between static and silence. I followed, breath held, heart pounding with each note.

Until, suddenly… I stopped.

I stood perfectly still in the middle of the hall.

Her voice was faint now, barely a whisper. But when I closed my eyes, the song grew clear, bright, alive.

I let it wash over me, the warmth of it like sunlight through fog.

And when I opened my eyes, She was there. Standing right in front of me.

Her lips moved softly as she sang:

"I’ll sing again, I always do
But next time, I’ll be hoping too…"

This time, she wasn’t glowing, nor was her skin see-through like before.
She was real. A living, breathing person. Her hair swayed lightly in the air, her eyes bright beneath the moonlight streaming through the window.

Her voice trembled as she continued:

"May I ask your name?
Just once before you leave the frame
No need for promises or truth
Or answers dressed in gleaming proof
I found you now and that’s enough
You smiled once and that’s my stuff
But still, in case you feel the same…

May I ask… your name?"
For a second, I forgot to breathe.

"Hey…?!" I said, a surprised smile tugging at my lips.

She looked up and smiled softly back. "Hey…"

Slowly, she lifted her hand to her chest, a gesture so familiar it sent a shiver through me.

I did the same.

Our hands reached toward one another, hesitant, trembling, the air between us humming like the final note of a song that refused to end.

I expected her hand to pass right through mine like before, just light and air.

But it didn’t.

Our palms met. Warm. Solid. Real.

I stared at our hands, disbelieving. She was right in front of me.
She wasn’t a ghost nor a dream. She was alive and here.
She smiled again, her voice gentle and bright.
"So… may I ask your name?"

"My name?" I repeated, a bit caught off guard.

"Yes…"

Her eyes shimmered with something deeper, a longing, quiet and patient, like she’d been waiting for this moment for far too long. And all I could think about was how, every time we met before, I kept running away from her.

"My name is Noah Maesutoro," I said softly.

Her smile deepened. "It’s truly nice to meet you, Sir Noah."

"Can I ask you something?" I replied, almost shyly.

"Sure, please do…"

"May I also ask your name?"

She giggled, a light melodic laugh that felt like it could heal the air around us. It took me a second to realize, she was laughing because that was part of her song.

"My name is Melody," she said, still smiling.

"Just Melody?"

"Just Melody."

"Okay then…"

But before I could say anything more, something strange began to happen. Her outline flickered, her body fading slowly, like mist under the moonlight.

"What’s going on?" I asked, reaching toward her.

Melody looked at her fading hands, panic flashing briefly in her eyes before she steadied herself. Then she looked right at me, calm, radiant.

"Listen carefully," she said, her voice now faint but clear. "In order for us to meet again, we have to sing a song."

"What song?"

"Any song," she answered. "But you have to sing with your heart. And we have to be in the same place."

I nodded quickly. "So where do you want to meet?"

"Anywhere," she said, smiling through the light that was starting to swallow her.

I thought for a moment. "How about the same place? Here. Tomorrow night."

Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Alright then… it’s a date."

"A date?" I echoed, a little surprised.

Before I could ask, she was gone, her form dissolving into glowing fragments that vanished into the night air.

I stood there for a while, the silence ringing like the last note of a song.
Then I smiled, whispering to myself,

"It’s a date then.“
I walked back home with a smile on my face.
What just happened?
In two days, I somehow ended up having a date with a beautiful girl, no offense to Yuki, and maybe Cassie.

I went from running away in fear to going on a date with a girl I barely know.

It’s so strange… really strange.
I met a girl, and in two days we’re going on a "date."

When I finally arrived home, I suddenly remembered something or rather, someone.

"How could you be so irresponsible!"

I froze. My guitar case slipped off my shoulder as Minnie, my caretaker, stood there in the hallway with her arms crossed.

"Do you even know what time it is?"

"Uh… late?" I said carefully.

"It’s ten o’clock at night! I know you go out with your friends, but I didn’t expect you to stay out this late."

"Oh, come on, it’s not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? If something happens to you. do you realize how your parents would react?"

"Only if I was doing music," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" she asked sharply.

"Nothing!" I quickly said. "Listen, I was just… studying late with my friends."

"If you’re going to ‘study,’ why not in your room?"

"Well… it’s nice to go outside once in a while," I said with a weak smile.

"Oh, come on. If you’re going to play your guitar, at least have the decency to respect curfew."

"Wait… you knew?"

"Of course I knew," she said, shaking her head. "You think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking out with that guitar every night? I know you play with your friends."

"Are you going to tell my parents about this?" I asked, nervous.

She sighed. "Don’t worry, I won’t. As long as you focus on studying for the OCSE exam, everything’s fine. Just… please be careful. There’ve been reports of incidents lately, and you’re still a kid. I have to worry about you, whether you like it or not."

Her voice softened near the end. That alone made me feel guilty.

"I understand," I said, bowing slightly. "Thanks, Minnie."

"Hey, don’t you want to eat something? There’s still dinner left."

"It’s fine, I’m already full. Maybe tomorrow."

I went inside my room and quietly closed the door.

So, Minnie knows I’m still playing music… but at least she doesn’t know I’m attending Amadeus Academy instead of medical school.
That was a close call.

After my encounter with Mom earlier today, I can tell her hatred for music hasn’t changed one bit.

I took a deep breath and sat at my desk.
"Whatever," I whispered. "Right now, I have to prepare for this so-called ‘date’ with Melody."

Ahhh, Melody.
That’s a nice name.

I smiled to myself as I grabbed my notebook and started writing a new song.

It might take all night, but I didn’t care. I was reusing scraps of old lyrics, half-finished chords, and melodies I’d abandoned long ago. It might turn out a mess…
or something amazing.

But probably a mess.

Still, I kept writing.
Because this time, I finally had someone to write for.