Girlfriend

The blue glow of the laptop screen cast soft light over Fali’s face as he stared blankly at rows of data. Lines upon lines of numbers, each one demanding his attention - or at least pretending to.

He sighed quietly. If he was being honest with himself, he hated this job.
Hours upon hours of repetitive work, of staring at screens and moving only his fingers. It gave him no joy.

He leaned back in his chair, arms folding behind his head, eyes tracing the ceiling.
Something more physical, he thought. Something that made me move. Maybe something in hospitality? Or running a small shop…
The idea lingered - the thought of serving customers, doing something tangible. But then came the question: What would I even sell?

His thoughts were interrupted by a faint humming from the next room. He turned his head toward the living area.

Mele sat curled up on the couch, a guitar across her lap. Her brow furrowed, lips pursed as she strummed a few uncertain chords. A wrong note made Fali wince - she sighed dramatically and flopped backward, her head hanging upside down over the couch’s edge.

Her eyes met his, inverted and amused.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she confessed.

Fali smiled, resting an elbow on the table.
“Sure you do. You’re not a famous musician for nothing.”

She shrugged helplessly.
“I wish I’d planned this better. I don’t know how other people just… do it. Everything I try sounds wrong.”

He tilted his head, listening as she idly strummed again.
“They don’t sound that bad. That’s just your head talking.”

She squinted at him.
“That bad, huh?”

He laughed.
“I mean, they only sound bad to you. Everyone else would think it sounds great.”

Mele groaned and sat upright again, leaning over the guitar as her fingers searched for a chord.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re right.”

Then she leaned back again, grinning.
“Hey! You got any ideas for what the song should be about?”

He shrugged.
“Not really. What do you usually sing about?”

“The usual,” she said, flicking a string idly. “Love and stuff.”

He nodded.
“Do you enjoy singing about that?”

“I guess so.”

“Then what do you need to find inspiration?”

She sighed again, letting the guitar rest across her knees.
“No idea. I’ve never done something like this before.”

He raised an eyebrow.
“Never?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, smiling faintly. “Funny, isn’t it?”

With another sigh, she stood and leaned her guitar gently against the couch. Stretching her arms above her head, she walked to the dining table and sat down across from him.

Then, resting her chin in her hands, she gave him a teasing smile - eyes bright, face framed by her hair. For a moment she looked like she belonged on a poster, effortlessly radiant.

“Give me some inspiration,” she said.

He looked around, searching for anything that could fulfil her request. When she giggled, he froze and turned back to her. Her grin was full of mischief and joy.

“Silly. I want inspiration from you, not from something else.”

He blinked.
“M-me? But how? What?”

She tilted her head slightly, still smiling.
“I don’t know. Do something cute. You’re good at that.”

He chuckled nervously, then managed to say the most flirtatious thing he’d ever uttered in his life.
“Two problems. Firstly, as far as I know you’re the only one who thinks that. Secondly, you’re the cute one here. I’m but a grub by comparison.”

She giggled.
“No, I reckon you’re pretty good-looking. Have you looked in a mirror before? Actually, wait. You were in the military. Hell, you were the poster boy! And you still are! I think there’s plenty of evidence to suggest you’re at least close to me.”

He grinned.
“By that logic, you’re still miles above me. You’ve got people sending you love letters constantly, and half the country thinks you’re the prettiest musician alive.”

She huffed, puffing out her cheeks.
“Okay, Mr. Airborne Warrior. If I’m so pretty, go out with me.”

His heart stuttered. His breath caught in his throat. Every coherent thought fled as his mind erupted into chaos. Was she teasing - or serious? He couldn’t tell. His tongue felt heavy as he tried to form words.
“M-me?”

She nodded casually.
“Yeah, you. Who else?”

He swallowed hard.
“But… but wouldn’t…”

She sighed and smiled faintly.
“Don’t think so hard. It’s simple, really. I just asked you out. Now you answer.”

Beads of sweat gathered along his hairline. Nothing made sense anymore. But deep down, his heart already knew what it wanted.
“I… yes. Yeah. Okay.”

Her lips curved into a smile.
“‘Okay’? That’s a little disappointing.”

The look on his face made her giggle.
“I’m kidding. Thank you. I think. I don’t know, I’ve never done this before.”

He blinked.
“Never?”

He’d dated before, though briefly. But her tone was so earnest that he couldn’t help but believe her. She shook her head.
“Nah. I don’t really know what to expect, to be honest. But I’m happy that you’re the first.”

He swallowed down every thought that tried to twist that line and nodded softly.
“I’m… I’m glad too…”

She giggled again, eyes bright.
“You’re giving me a few ideas. Thank you, you’ve done your job very well. I’ve got some inspiration now.”

That sent his mind spinning. Was it all a gimmick after all? But one look at her face told him otherwise. It was genuine - soft, glowing, real.

She stood up, stretching.
“I feel like I’m supposed to shake your hand or something.”

He shrugged, smiling awkwardly.
“I don’t know either.”

Her laugh was quiet, musical. Fali found himself staring at her in awe - at the face that had the internet debating whether she should be nominated as the world’s most beautiful woman. Her dark hair flowed neatly over her shoulders, her bright brown eyes shimmered with warmth, and her smile… her smile could’ve given him radiation poisoning.

“Thanks again, Fali.”

She turned and made her way back to the couch, her guitar already waiting. He lingered for a few seconds, dazed, before turning back to his screen. His mind was racing. For the first time in a long while, he had something to aim for.

Rather than drifting through life, he now had direction - something, someone - to work toward. He made a mental list: a better job, a steadier income, something that could support two.

Then he caught himself and laughed under his breath. He was overthinking again.

Smiling, he reached for his mouse and got back to work with a spark of energy he didn’t know he still had.