[right][color=darkgray]Timestamp: Immediately after the Pep Rally and school
Location: BHHS Parking lot
[color=ac046d]Samyan[/color] and [color=15D44C]Leila[/color]
[@Aces Away] and [@Fabricant451][/color][/right]

[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/195daf27-a3d5-42d7-90da-1fb22ab720e3.png[/img]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/d9552c49-d431-4b97-896b-38a962a2299a.png[/img]
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Samyan stared at the files on their phone, scrolling up and down repeatedly through the songs they’d created while thinking about the muse currently on her way to Yani’s very spot. They leaned back on the grill of their van to avoid pacing and wound up tapping the fingers of their free hand together instead. That traitorous hand was shoved into their jacket pocket in punishment and the smaller of the Fujimori siblings scanned the lot for Leila Webb, who had earlier agreed to Samyan’s offer of experiencing a song in their van after school. Which one should Yani show her? They had been inspired to create both entire songs and short tracks almost every time that they had the pleasure of encountering the soft girl, from first realization of her to last week after talking about her tik tok account, Melodic Moments, of which Yani was an enthusiastic supporter and follower. There were so many different tunes they could show her to set the tone for their question, but even as Yani stared at their phone screen they felt like there was really only one option. The first option. After all, aren’t you supposed to start at the beginning?

It was a wonderful song that kept the memory of that day alive and crisp within Samyan’s recollection. The slow indie build of walking oblivious through the hallway while talking to Kisho that crescendos until suddenly, as their shoulders collided while walking in opposite directions, the beat drops as Samyan’s heart did while apologizing and looking into wistful dark brown eyes that sung of untold stories and a soul scrabbling to be seen in a world that only believes what it hears. The yearning pull on violin strings puts a warm and smooth tone into an otherwise adventurous deep bass that takes up the foreground. It was a song that poured directly from their heart in a way they couldn’t contain, and perhaps to others it would sound messy, but Samyan was hoping that what they’ve learned and observed of Leila was true, and the dark haired beauty would be able to discern the meaning and feeling within the notes. Samyan was not subtle, but in the case of their flirting Leila was not perceptive, so the DJ and producer hoped that their shared love of music could help bridge the gap in notice just enough that Yani could finally step over it and ask the question they’ve wanted to since partway through junior year.

When Yani greeted her in homeroom, Leila initially thought it was just simple courtesy; that was, of course, before the question of free time was brought up and ever since the morning, Leila had found it increasingly difficult to focus on the school day. Her head was drowning in the ocean of hypotheticals and thoughts and the more she swam in that maelstrom the more the little voice in her head became clearer and clearer. [i]Samyan Fujimori wants to talk to me.[/i] It wasn’t the talking part that had Leila wondering what about, why it couldn’t be done in the classroom or at lunch, she talked to people daily, often without even wanting to; no, it was the fact that Samyan Fujimori went out of their way to initiate further conversation. Leila had once spotted Yani doing what Leila assumed to be humming in the back of class one day, totally by accident. At the time, Leila was handing in a test she finished early and on the way back to her desk, there was Yani, in the back, moving in such a subtle way that most probably wouldn’t notice. But Leila did. Because Leila moved that way every day, to the unwritten notes of music singing in her head. 

That hadn’t even been the first time Leila had seen Yani, just one of the times that Leila remembered vividly. The first time Leila learned who Yani was, other than ‘that person in class with the cool shaved part of their head’, she admired that confidence from afar. Never in her wildest thoughts did Leila ever think the admiration might be mutual. Throughout the day, Leila shook her head when that particular thought of mutual admiration breached the surface. She was assuming. Reading too much into an innocent invitation. This was probably some music club business, to get Leila to attend more often and of course she would…but Webb-Heads needed her…

And yet when the final bell rang, Leila walked with a briskness that she never did when she went from school to work. Was she smiling? Probably. Maybe. She couldn’t tell. Was that nervousness or excitement that made every step she took seem equal parts heavy and weightless? Yani had asked for five minutes and Leila would have given them fifty. In the parking lot, Leila spotted Yani leaning against their van and fuck, how could someone be so effortlessly cool while [i]leaning[/i]? With a deep breath to keep navigating the turbulent waters of her mind in an effort to still them, Leila approached Yani and waved to get their attention, her own expression doing its best to remain collected even as the corners of her lips were twitching just enough for someone to know that internally she was giddy. [color=15D44C]”Hey…hi!”[/color] The same words Yani had opened with this morning, only reversed.

Yani grinned excitedly when Leila appeared before them, taking in the girl's own happy twitch of her lips with great hope. She looked just as gorgeous as she had this morning, but the small smile that threatened to break across her honey almond skin had her shining, eyes glowing bright like light through fresh violin rosin. This girl was sunlight and song, rainbows and rhythm, vitality and verse. Yani could feel their heart in their throat just staring at the golden cast the sun sent over her earthen eyes, getting lost in the depth with hardly any will to escape. Leila was all those things and more, and Yani was hoping they could be the introduction to the ‘love’ part of the lyrics that Leila already has down herself.

They'd settle for just being allowed to keep being a part of her life after this.

[color=ac046d]“Leila! I am so excited you came,”[/color] Yani exclaimed once they'd managed to come up for air out of the intoxicating pools of warmth that were Leila Webb’s brown eyes. Their hand went out to touch the girl's elbow, ever the tactile being, but left the girl's hands free so she didn't feel like Samyan was suddenly grabbing her. Hitting the remote start on the key in their pocket, the violinist guided her to the side of the van where the door had been left open to reveal the setup within. It would have been much harder to get in through the back door, given the raised bed and storage area that had been built into the space for when Yani was traveling for shows. Above that bed, however, was the control system for the speakers and subwoofer that they'd had fitted throughout the vehicle. Yani spent many nights with their legs dangling off the side of the mattress, listening to their latest mix while fucking with the different settings to try and find out what was [i]missing[/i]. It was their creative space, a piece of them that was only shared with those who have encouraged Yani's affinities and traveled with them for gigs, but they were opening it up to Leila in the hopes that the girl would soon become one of those people as well.

Yani was used to taking the first step before they'd even realized they lifted their foot, used to blazing trails before they even knew one was needed, it was Kisho that stopped and thought of consequences and attempted- though often in vain- to be the voice of calm and reason. Their brother was a man of calm and restraint but only as a cover for the impulsive hothead that used to tackle and beat bullies back when they still lived in Japan. As the one that will be inheriting the bulk of the company and who will become its face, that attitude couldn't slide, and their brother had gotten another type of tutor added to his weekly schedule just to reign in his temper. He'd had to learn to be calm and still like a secluded pond while Samyan had coursed through life like a raging river, unburdened by anything more than the knowledge that they would be helping their brother but not beholden to the business in the same way as he.
 
Now though, as they stepped up into the living space of their van and held their hand out to Leila to help give her a boost up and further into their life, they wondered if maybe slowing down to think about things was good even outside of business, despite how much their brother had despised his early lessons. Because going slow with Leila has led to this moment. Because slowing down right now gave them more time to admire the gifted sight in front of them as Leila looked up to catch their gaze once more, and Samyan would do anything to keep that picture forever in their mind, even calming the torrents of energy that made them them just so they could absorb the current moment with a higher level of awareness. If Samyan’s mind was a coursing river, Leila gave them enough peace and calm for it to settle into a babbling brook, and they found themselves in love with the new melodies they could find there.

[color=ac046d]“Please, come in, make yourself at home.” [i]In my van, in my life, in my heart where you've already carved out a place for yourself without even knowing. Please, come in and stay.[/i][/color]

In any other instance Leila would have been in awe of the van’s interior; the subwoofers alone looked as if they would produce a bass so heavy that it would rattle the bones and that was before getting into the other audio enhancing devices found throughout just the initial glimpse from outside. But Yani touched Leila’s elbow and that was all Leila could focus on. It was brief and it was probably just out of reflex - some people were touchers, but that brief interaction was like a lifesaver on the rough waters of Leila’s mind. It kept her from getting washed away in the addicting verbal demons of doubt and uncertainty, kept her afloat with the lingering thought that she wouldn’t have been invited here, to this audio playground of a van, if it was under some sinister pretense. 

Without thinking, Leila took the offered hand and it was only after taking the first step to the interior that a crimson tint was forming on her cheeks as she realized her hand was having difficulty removing itself from Yani’s palm. Was that the first time Leila had held hands, even if it was for a radically different context than most people would assume? Yes. Did she want to do it again? Yes. Did she sheepishly look away from Yani’s eyes when their eyes met, thus adding to the blush? Yes. Would she do it over if she had the chance? Absolutely not. In her mind, this would be the kind of scenario a music video to a tween song would feature and that thought made Leila crack a smile; that the smile came immediately after a handhold was a wonderful turn of fate. [color=15D44C]“Whoa…this…is yours?”[/color] Leila slowly spun, eyes looking at the speakers, the subwoofers, the mattress; when Yani said to make herself at home…she didn’t know it was meant so literally. [color=15D44C]“You should invite me here more often. This…it’s amazing.”[/color] Her proclamation coincided with her returning her gaze and attention to Yani, with a smile in her eyes and a little open mouthed wonder. 

[color=15D44C]”Should I…sit there?”[/color] She pointed to the mattress, unsure of what proper protocol was in a van like this. If she needed to, she’d sit on the floor and be happy to do it. 

[color=ac046d][i]Invite you more often? I don't even want you to leave.[/i][/color] Leila Webb truly had no idea the power she had over Samyan Fujimori, nor the world that that opened up for her. The Fujimori family was not one for trivial interests, they either found passions that they dominated the field in or they didn't call them passions at all. They were hardworking, dedicated, determined, and of a bloodline that built the foundation of their company itself with torn hands leaking life into the concrete long before it ever saw a pressed business suit or a walk in closet. A Fujimori knew what they wanted, and what was wanted was never worth simply taking. No, if you wanted something, you worked hard for it, and just like many things in their life so far, Yani was putting in the work in order to show Leila that [i]she[/i] was worth it, not just expecting her to return the affection because of their Family name and status.

[color=ac046d]“Yes, ah, please!”[/color] Yani offered as they came out of their enamored haze, fingers twitching uselessly at their leg with nothing to hold now. Leila’s hand had been soft, gentle, and warm, sending the same blush that reached her cheeks thrumming all the way into Yani’s own as heat spread from their point of contact. They'd almost been knocked over when the other looked away and smiled, turning in a circle to take in all that she could of Yani’s life before settling again and asking her question. The producer hoped that they weren't too slack jawed by the time the girl had landed her eyes on them again. They pointed to the control box in the cabinet while grabbing their phone out with their other hand, finding the song with the knowledge that the Bluetooth was already connected. 

[color=ac046d]“Best place to be for sound and editing, and super comfortable, man!”[/color] they closed the door of the van but quickly passed Leila before she could sit down and kneeled on the bed themselves in order to reach the two custom windows on the van’s back doors. Stretching across the mattress with one hand down for balance, they threw the lock levers at the bottom off and pushed the windows out until the rod’s joints engaged and held them up on their own, giving the two inside both airflow and privacy. They turned back to Leila with a grin while sitting on the foot of the bed, leaving the head to her so she was closest to the controls. 

[color=ac046d]“Please,”[/color] They said a second time, tapping the mattress in invitation while unzipping and kicking off their boots in order to sit on crossed legs. [color=ac046d]“Change the settings however you wish. Loud, quiet, heavy on the bass, all is fine! This is all meant to be for you to experience, I can even play a sample of something just so you can get the settings to how you like.”[/color] 

The last time anyone had done something that was meant for Leila was…well, never. Her parents opened Webb-Heads for them, it just happened that Leila took to the place well as an employee but other than that it often felt that life was taking away from Leila above anything else. She wondered how many people other than their brother were given entry into Yani’s sanctum of a van and Leila promptly shook her head to prevent that thought from getting its hooks into her brain. That didn’t matter. What mattered was that Yani invited her here and Leila was not going to take that for granted. The music lover never really got to hang out with people in a one on one instance like this; most of the time she was with her group of friends or co-workers or otherwise by herself, which wasn’t such a bad arrangement considering the first months after her hearing issues she was convinced she’d never have a regular social life again. Right now, Leila just hoped she wasn’t going to do anything wrong or, worse, embarrassing, but this was uncharted territory for Leila. 

She’d never been alone with a person that she wanted to steal glances at before. 

[color=15D44C]“It would be a shame not to try those woofers.”[/color] Leila looked at the control box, careful not to mindlessly adjust knobs and settings lest the music about to be played take her back to the dark place of her youth. [color=15D44C]“I think bass is the most important part of a song. It’s like…the foundation, the bridge that links melody and harmony and rhythm, and it’s also so…underappreciated, you know?”[/color] Leila had a buoyant curl to her smile as she spoke and slightly adjusted the knob marked with bass. [color=15D44C]“Sometimes I have to turn it up so it shakes the bones. But it’s a balance, too much and it overpowers the rest.Sorry.”[/color] Leila could’ve gone on. At work, she had a bad habit of going off on tangents about music, bands, artists, and it took someone like Dani Jones to speak up and cut her off. Yani probably already knew stuff like this, they had a killer sound set up in their van, the last thing they needed was for some audibly impaired music nerd to bore them. [color=15D44C]“I didn’t mean to ramble. Go ahead and play something, I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”[/color]

As she sat on the mattress, Leila noticed Yani’s boots being removed and she had the briefest question. Was she supposed to take her shoes off too? [color=15D44C]“Do I need to..with the shoes? I will if you need me to or want me to. Whatever the rules are, this is your space, I wanna respect it”[/color] 

[color=ac046d]“If you do not mind, yes, please remove them,”[/color] Yani answered warmly, thankful the other audiophile had asked. They were well enough used to the fact that people didn’t often think about their shoes coming off in other people’s spaces, and had simply decided not to say anything and switch out the sheets once they got home. They were on this mattress far too often to want to risk letting it get too dirty anyway, but it seemed Leila was even more conscientious than Yani had already known. Getting lost in Leila’s actions was quickly becoming a problem in the small space, because Yani couldn’t keep their eyes off of the girl and the way she restrained her own enthusiasm, as though it needed to be hidden instead of celebrated and praised. Who cared if Yani knew everything Leila was saying? They’d never heard it from [i]her[/i] lips, and it was being listened to like a devout to gospel. [color=ac046d]“And please, do not apologize to me for your passion, I enjoy it.”[/color]

They looked down at their phone then, clicking play on the song and doing their best not to openly stare at Leila in hopes of seeing every little reaction. [color=ac046d]“I started this after we ran into each other in the halls,”[/color] they explained before anything truly began. [color=ac046d]“By the time I saw you next, I had completed this one, but another popped into my head from that meeting that I had to work on. And so on, and so on, but this was the first,”[/color] As the audio began to pour into the van around them, the vibration coming in slow and building, they stopped talking so that Leila could focus on their creation, but they let the girl see a moment of the nervous smile that only seemed to cross their face when thinking of the beauty before them.

Her passion. She’d never heard her love of music referred to as such before and she liked the way it sounded, especially from Yani’s lips. They just had a way of making things sound…wonderful, to put it lightly. Leila offered only a brief apologetic nod before her shoes joined the boots in being removed from her person just in time for the music to begin. The slow intro that sounded familiar in the best ways, like a comforting meal from your favorite restaurant, which had Leila smiling - it was like one of the songs she often danced her way into school with. [i]Did they say this was because [b]we[/b] ran into each other?[/i] Her mind reflecting on the words Yani said, dismissing them as a trick of the ear, but secretly wondering how true it was and how badly she wished it to be. 

 [color=15D44C]“The crescendo…the way it leads to the drop and bows in tandem with the violin…it’s super layered. There are artists with albums out there that don’t have this depth of sound.”[/color] Leila tried not to speak over the music. To do so would disrespect the artist, who was seated next to her, and the music itself. As the song went on, Leila allowed Yani into the world only Leila knew - the world that Leila entered when she listened to music tickling over every synapse of the brain. She began to move. First her head, then her shoulders, arms, torso; if she were standing she would have twirled, taken a step back, skipped forward, all in time with the beat and signatures. Her enjoyment was anything but subtle, the groove of her body, the way her lips were following along to the beat as if she were creating lyrics from the soundscape, the look of genuine amazement sparkling in her eyes. As the song reached its climax and headed towards the outro, Leila had a single thought. [i]I bet Yani could describe the color red to me.[/i] 

When the song ended and Leila fell back down to earth, she turned her head towards Yani and half smiled, half laughed at her the way someone did when words couldn’t describe the excitement of what they just felt.   [color=15D44C]“That song felt…personal, in like a raw, passionate way. What…”[/color] Leila hesitated a moment as the high of the song was mellowing, this question could well turn the conversation down a road leading to an awkward collision…but she had to know.  [color=15D44C]“What did you mean…that it was when we ran into each other? Do you mean…”[/color] Leila pointed to Yani and then to herself. 

Yani was left staring like they’d tried not to the entire way through the song as Leila enchanted them with the way she moved and flowed to the music, experiencing the song in a way that sent pride and joy soaring through Yani’s nerves like an electric current. No matter how many times they thought it, the fact continued to remain: the celestial being of signals and songs before them was beautiful. When she’d settled and the song had ended, when she’d asked her question, Yani couldn’t help the emphatic nod that answered her almost immediately, leaning forward with their arms supporting them between their space. She’d felt it. She’d [i]understood[/i].

[color=ac046d]“Yes! I don’t know what it was exactly,”[/color] Yani began, hoping that this being a private space meant their father would forgive them for letting their speech relax. [color=ac046d]“I saw you that day and it put a song in my heart, every time we speak another’s added and I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve been flirting with you since last year though and you didn’t seem receptive, but with the dance tomorrow I didn’t want to miss my chance to-”[/color] Yani stopped themselves mid ramble, realizing that somewhere during their speech they’d put a hand on Leila’s knee and they retracted it with a shamed blush. They weren’t even trying to be forward, it was just in their nature to be in contact with someone as they spoke, be it a light tough to the arm or a grazing of knees or legs. It just made sense to be touching someone when you were engaged. They cleared their throat, looking away for only a moment before returning their gaze to the girl across from them. [color=ac046d]“Sorry, that wasn’t me trying to- anyway, I wanted to ask you and this seemed the best way,”[/color] Yani ran a hand through their hair and smiled at Leila, a bit of nerves showing through as they asked. [color=ac046d]“Would you like to go to the dance with me? And, if that works out well, perhaps be willing to be my girlfriend after?”[/color]

In the moment, Leila hadn’t even realized there was a brief encounter between hand and knee but even if she had been aware there would not have been any part of her that would have minded. Not when hearing that Yani wrote a song about her or that Leila inspired artistic thoughts. Leila’s mind tried to think back on the past year to conversations with Yani, brief or otherwise, of saying “hey” in the halls or trading laughter at little jokes or comments. Had she been oblivious to flirting? Or had she just assumed there was no way someone like Samyan Fujimori could be interested in any form of relationship with Leila other than a friendly one? For as much as she had a normal social life, part of her still believed that the little devices on and in her ears would be a barrier to entry in the dating world. 

There had been times during the previous year where Leila had given a glance after exchanging pleasantries with Yani; she just never assumed the same could be true. That she could inspire glances, songs, flirting. Leila knew what she wanted to say but wondered how best to say it. She always preferred when people spoke to her face to face - much easier to read lips when words were too muted to detect but looking at Yani was suddenly difficult because their eyes were doing more than just being pretty, especially when they were smiling. How had Leila never noticed Yani’s eyes before? Or their eyebrows? In the belief that they were just effortlessly cool, only now did she realize they were just as vulnerable to nerves and awkwardness as everyone else. And that only made Leila think even more highly of them. 

 [color=15D44C]“I would…I would love to go to the dance with you.”[/color] That hadn’t even been on the list of possibilities in her mind. Her fingers found a small part of her jeans and gave the denim a tiny pinch. Internally, she was remembering the brief moment where the two of them held hands. It was minutes ago but that might as well have been another lifetime now.  [color=15D44C]“And…”[/color] Leila wasn’t one to make the first move, but she wanted nothing more than to have Yani’s hand on her knee again; she’d settle for the mirrored smile the both of them no doubt had.  [color=15D44C]“I’d really like to be your girlfriend even if it turns out we can’t dance at all.”[/color] 

[color=ac046d]“Really?”[/color] Yani asked, an excited grin overtaking their features and causing their nose and eyes to scrunch up. [color=ac046d]“Fantastic!”[/color] Their hand, once done with an enthusiastic clap, fell once more to Leila’s leg but this time stayed there with the knowledge that the other was receptive to the affection. [color=ac046d]“I’ll pick you up and bring flowers, I promise, and we can listen to whatever you want to listen to on the way to the dance,”[/color] They reached out and gently pushed a strand of hair away from Leila’s face, not wanting anything to block those eyes or that smile now that they could take it all in unrestrained. Their hand fell to a rest at the girl's jaw and Samyan couldn’t help the small glance down at her lips, so inviting stretched out into her own smile. Maybe this was too much, maybe it was too forward because Leila literally [i]just[/i] said yes but Samyan has been waiting for this moment for months. Biting their own lip, Samyan leaned forward a bit and asked, [color=ac046d]“I’m sorry if this is too much, but can I kiss you?”[/color]

She didn’t say it, but Leila would have been just as happy listening to nothing on the way to the dance simply because the excitement of both having a date and who said date was was more harmonious than even her favorite songs. The flowers were definitely nice, though; she was looking forward to those but even if all they had to offer was sitting on a bench and listening to something on a phone speaker in lieu of a dancing date, Leila would still be over the moon. Yani’s second question was answered with a nod, but Leila knew she could do better.  [color=15D44C]“It’s not too much. It’s perfect.”[/color] The volume of Leila’s voice went low, just above a whisper, and her hand found Yani’s on her own leg, a silent reminder to the both of them that this wasn’t a shared dream no matter how it seemed like one coming true. Her jaw was quivering under Yani’s touch, an excited, nervous, heart-pumping-overtime quiver as Leila leaned forward, awaiting Yani to take the reins from there. 

Not needing any more allowance, Yani surged forward and captured Leila’s lips in their own, gentle despite the excitement and passion boiling just beneath the surface. This didn’t need to be crazy, this was their hello kiss, this was for them to get to know each other past the level they were already at and Yani didn’t want Leila to only know them as passion, they wanted her to know them as gentle comfort as well. They brushed their thumb over her cheek and jaw while tilting their head just so in order to deepen the kiss the slightest bit before finally pulling away for breath, hand dropping to the girl’s shoulder. Euphoria swam across their senses as they realized that what they’d wanted all this time had finally come true, that their worries had been unfounded, and Yani licked their lips while staring at Leila with a heavy gaze.

[color=ac046d]“You, you are going to be so good for me and so bad for me at the same time,”[/color] They kissed her again, slower this time, savoring her lips as they savored her presence and soaking it all in. Their voice was equally low as Leila’s when they said, [color=ac046d]“I thought I had focus problems before, but now I really don’t think I’ll be able to stop thinking of you.”[/color]

One thing was abundantly clear for Leila when the kiss broke: she wanted to do that again. When their lips met each other in a sweet embrace, for Leila the van ceased to be grounded on Earth. There was a weightlessness she felt like gravity had been reduced and the only thing keeping her from floating off into the unknown was Yani’s lips. If it had been Leila’s first kiss, she hid it well even while letting Yani take the lead; Leila found her thumb tracing a pattern on the top of Yani’s leg-touching hand while her other hand found its stability and comfort on Yani’s leg, those fingers giving a gentle squeeze simply to keep from shaking back and forth while the electric jolt surged through her body. Her earlier notion of Yani’s touch keeping her from getting swept away felt so backwards now. 

Leila [i]wanted[/i] to drown in the ocean that was Samyan Fujimori. 

[color=15D44C]“I’m sorry in advance to your friends, because I think I wanna spend a lot of time with you.”[/color] 

[color=ac046d]“My friends will get over it,”[/color] Yani assured as they thought of their lunch table full of gremlins, a thrill coursing through them as Leila’s fingers flexed on their leg. Who knew starting slow could be so beneficial in the end. [color=ac046d]“They may be relieved, actually, as they’ve had to hear me speak of you often.”[/color]


[color=15D44C]”Then I guess they’ll be hearing you speak of me even more.”[/color] The thought made Leila give a bright little laugh; no doubt the stories told to each others’ friends would come now with the appearance of one another. [color=15D44C]“I know I’m here to listen to music…but I think I want to kiss you again.”[/color]

Though the laughter faded, Leila’s smile didn’t. She didn’t think it would for a while. 

[/color][/indent][/indent]