Unfinished Chords

The sun was unforgiving the next morning. Kit woke up with a headache so brutal it felt like her brain was trying to escape her skull. She groaned, pulling the blanket over her head, the events from last night swimming back to her in fuzzy, fragmented flashes.

She had been at a club. Graydon had invited her, she remembered that much. She had been fine, at first, even a little excited about making new friends. But then everything had spiraled into the chaos of her—Jade. Her face, her smile, her laugh. Everything about Jade was a reminder of the girl Kit had left behind, and everything about the night had hurt in ways Kit hadn’t been prepared for. The jealousy. The bitterness. The way Elora had been with her.

And then—God, what had she said to Jade? What had she done?

Kit buried her face in her hands. She had been drunk. She had embarrassed herself, and the thought of how she'd acted—pushing Jade away, begging for attention, crying—made her want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Her phone buzzed, the notification bringing her out of her shame spiral.

Graydon: Hey, Kit. Hope you got home okay last night. Just checking in. :)

Kit’s stomach churned. She had been so rude to him last night. He had been nothing but kind, trying to help her, and she’d snapped at him. Shit.

This apology was overdue. Kit pressed the send button before she could talk herself out of it.

Kit: hey Graydon sorry about last night. I was an such an ass.

She stared at the message, waiting for him to respond. It felt awkward, but it was the right thing to do.

A minute later, her phone buzzed.

Graydon: No worries, Kit. I get it. You’re in a new place, things can be overwhelming. Just wanted to make sure you got home okay. Let me know if you ever want to talk or grab coffee or something.

Kit smiled at the text, grateful for his understanding. But now, her guilt was creeping in even more.

She couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. Maybe Graydon wasn’t her friend, but at least he could offer her some perspective.

She took a deep breath and decided to give it a shot.

Kit: Actually... I could use some advice. It's about Jade.

She hit send before she could chicken out.

Graydon took a little longer to respond this time. Kit twiddled her pen nervously, glancing at the clock. Finally, her phone buzzed again.

Graydon: I’m guessing something happened last night?

Kit’s heart skipped a beat. He could probably tell, but she appreciated the directness.

Kit: Yeah… it was fucking humiliating, I wouldn’t be surprised if she never wanted to speak to me again after that

The screen paused as Graydon read her message, and Kit felt a tight knot form in her stomach. She had no idea what kind of advice Graydon could offer, but she needed to hear something other than the voice in her head telling her to leave it alone.

Finally, Graydon replied.

Graydon: You gotta cut Jade some slack, she had no idea you were coming back.

Kit: Well it’s not like I intended to bump into her that day  

Graydon: But can’t you show just a little bit more care? Sometimes, people don’t just pick up where they left off, especially when time’s passed. So have you given her time to adjust or are you trying to thrust yourself back into her life?

Kit stared at the message, digesting it. She knew he was right. She’d been avoiding the real conversation for years, pretending like it wasn’t a problem. But it was. Jade deserved to know the truth, even if Kit wasn’t sure it would change anything.

Kit: But she doesn’t want to fix it. What am I supposed to do then?

Graydon: If you really want to fix it, you need to try to become friends with her again—

Kit: Ugh but she just won’t budge, she doesn’t get that I’m different now.

Graydon: Sounds like you’re trying to force her to see something you haven’t even shown her yet.

Kit: Did you miss the part where I said she won’t let me try?

Graydon: From what I see, you keep talking about how you’re different now but have you even stopped to think that maybe Jade’s different too?

Kit sighed, her fingers running over her keyboard as she read his words again. She didn’t know if she was ready to face everything—the hurt, the confusion, the regret—Grayson couldn’t be right. He didn’t know Jade like Kit did.

Graydon: I’m sorry I didn’t mean to overstep…

Kit slammed her phone against the night stand before burying her head deep into her pillow. She suddenly felt painfully alone in her plain white king sized bed— it was times like this she missed Airk, he would always try to make her laugh, even when the situation was heavy.

Kit sat up straight, her stomach still full of nerves. She needed coffee. And if she was being honest, she needed an excuse to see Jade again. A real excuse, one that didn’t involve her acting like an idiot.

So, she grabbed her jacket and headed out, praying the coffee shop would offer the relief she needed.

——

The moment Jade walked into the coffee shop that morning, she could feel the weight of yesterday’s encounter still hanging in the air. She had gone home and tried to shake it off, but the image of Kit’s tear-streaked face had followed her into the quiet of her apartment, making it hard to focus on anything else.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she’d been thinking about Kit a lot. There was something about her—something that still made Jade's chest tighten. She hated the way it felt, the uncertainty of whether she should just let it all go or confront the past that neither of them had fully let go of.

As Jade busied herself behind the counter, Elora appeared beside her, her voice a little too chipper. “Do you think she’s going to show up today?”

Jade rolled her eyes without meaning to. "Are you still going on about that? I don't know, Elora. I really don’t want to talk about it."

Elora’s expression softened. “I’m just saying... it’s obvious you two have some unfinished business. You’ve been acting weird ever since she came back.”

Jade sighed. “I’m not acting weird. Just tired. Can we please just focus on the orders?”

But Elora wouldn’t be deterred. “Right, right, but just... don’t push her away again. I saw the way you looked at her last night. You still care about her, don’t you?”

Jade froze. She didn't know how to answer that. Instead, she busied herself with cleaning the counter, trying to drown out the lump in her throat.

Just as the tension began to settle between them, the bell above the door chimed, and the familiar, unwelcome sound of someone walking into the shop made Jade’s heart skip.

Kit.

Jade’s eyes flicked toward her. Kit was standing at the counter, shifting uncomfortably, clearly trying not to make eye contact.

Elora noticed her immediately, her face lighting up. "Kit! Hey! Welcome! What can I get you?"She said way too loudly.

"Oops sorry, did you drink a lot last night? Even my hangover was crazy!"

Kit looked between them, her gaze lingering on Jade for a brief second before she spoke. "It’s fine—Uh, just a coffee. Thanks."

Jade's pulse quickened, but she kept her tone steady. "Still sticking to black coffee?"

Kit blinked. "You remember that?"

"How could I forget?" Jade’s lips curled into a half-smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You're the only person I know who could survive on black coffee and nothing else. It’s kind of a… signature move."

Kit chuckled nervously, but there was something in the air between them, unspoken but heavy. "Yeah, well, I guess some things never change."

Jade’s smile faltered. She turned toward the counter, voice more clipped than intended. "I’ll get that for you."

"Thanks…" Kit hesitated, her eyes flickering with something unspoken. After a moment, she added quietly, “I—uh, I wanted to say I’m sorry. For last night.”

Jade paused, setting the cup down before turning to face her. "For what?"

Kit’s cheeks flushed, her awkwardness palpable. "For acting... stupid. I don’t know what came over me. I was drunk and I—" She cut herself off, clearly embarrassed. "Thank you for taking me home. I don’t know what I would have done without you."

That’s a sentence she often heard when they were kids. Because there was once a time where Jade would’ve done anything for Kit.

Jade didn’t know how to respond. It was hard for her to admit, but she had missed this—Kit being earnest, vulnerable, the way they used to be. Still, she couldn’t let it be too easy. “It’s fine. I didn’t really have a choice,”

Kit’s expression hardened, and her voice took on a more insistent edge. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep cleaning up after me—” She cut herself off, brow furrowing as she pushed forward, “But if you won’t let me off the hook, let me repay you. For once. Is there anything I can do?”

Before Jade could reply, Elora piped up with a playful grin. “You could help her finish that song she’s been working on for this weekend. She keeps saying it’s not ready yet, but I’m dying to hear it.”

Kit’s eyes flickered with interest. “You’re writing again?” she asked softly. “And what’s this weekend?”

“Boorman’s birthday,” Elora answered. “Big thing ’round this place. We need more performers, and Jade promised she’d finally sing for us.”

Jade grimaced, shifting uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, I promised that after ten pints of beer last year. Doesn’t mean it’s happening.”

“A promise is a promise,” Elora teased, ignoring Jade’s discomfort.

Jade’s jaw tightened, her tone sharp. “I don’t even need help with that, Elora.”

Kit wasn’t having it. “Come on, Jade. Don’t be difficult. I’m sure I can help. You used to let me, remember?” She turned to Elora, smirking. “I think she’s just being stubborn.”

Jade felt the old pressure build up—Kit’s insistence, the subtle way she pushed without giving ground. She crossed her arms, trying to hold her ground. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

Kit raised an eyebrow, voice lowering with that familiar confidence. “I won’t leave until I help. I’m not asking for much. Just let me repay you, okay?”

Jade’s shoulders tensed, but she exhaled sharply, the fight draining out of her. The old pattern. “Fine,” she muttered, her words clipped but resigned. “A little jam session. But just that. I’m rusty.”

Kit’s grin flashed, all too familiar. “Deal.”

—

It was awkward. No way around it.

Kit had made lunch—well, attempted lunch. Her cooking skills were... questionable at best, and Jade fought back a laugh when she saw the sad-looking plate in front of her. The pasta was soggy, and the sauce looked more like a watery disaster. But Kit was trying.

“You know, I’m not sure even I can pretend to enjoy this,” Jade teased, her eyes glancing at the plate with mock horror as she stirred it slowly.

Kit grinned sheepishly. “Hey, I’m trying. And at least it’s... edible? I think?”

Jade shook her head, though her smile softened. “You’re lucky I’m here to save you from burning it.”

The tension between them began to ebb, just a little.

"So how long since you last played this thing?" Kit asked, her voice slightly too eager as she handed the guitar to Jade, like she was pushing her into something.

Jade hesitated, then shrugged. “Hmm, tough to say. Definitely lost momentum after... well, after you left.” She cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. “I think I’m pretty rusty compared to you.”

“Oh I could never be rusty," Kit reached over, lightly strumming the guitar, then glanced up at Jade with a sly smile. “You know, there’s skill, and then there’s talent. I just happen to have both.”

Jade rolled her eyes, her lips curling into a half-smirk. “You could use a little humbleness too, you know.”

"Alright I’m tired of waiting, take it away, Claymore," Kit said with that teasing smile.

Jade closed her eyes, fingers grazing the strings, and then she started to sing. Softly at first, but the weight of the words hit Kit right in the chest. Her voice was still there, even better than Kit had remembered. But it wasn’t just that—it was the weight of it, the rawness, the way it filled the room. Jade hadn’t just lost her talent. She’d buried it.

Kit was hypnotised. 

Her heart raced, and as Jade’s lyrics cut through the air, Kit’s breath hitched. The song was about her. About them. About everything Kit had done wrong. 

Tears stung Kit’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, afraid Jade would see.

Jade strummed the final chord of her song, but it felt off, the note lingering wrong in the air. She frowned, adjusting her fingers but still not quite getting it right.

Kit, who had been quietly watching, leaned in with a smile. “You’re close. Try raising the second string by half a step. It’ll resolve the tension better.”

Jade shot her a look, half annoyed. “I’m not sure—”

“Trust me,” Kit said, her tone firm but gentle. “It’s just a small tweak. You’ve got the feel of it, but that’ll make it smoother.”

Jade hesitated, clearly not eager to take advice. “I think I’ve got it,” she muttered, but Kit was already leaning over to adjust her fingers, her hand brushing Jade’s ever so slightly. Reluctantly, Jade let her.

With a sharp exhale, Jade strummed again, and the chord was suddenly fuller, richer—right.

She blinked, surprised, and looked up at Kit. “Okay… that actually works.”

Kit grinned, her eyes shining with that familiar spark. “I told you. You just needed a little push.”

Jade ran a hand through her hair, clearly torn. “Yeah, well... I didn’t ask for it.”

Kit leaned back, watching her with a softer expression. “You know, we’re a pretty good team, Jade. I’ve always thought that.”

Jade swallowed, her heart beating a little faster at the word "team." She didn’t know if she could handle that old dynamic being so alive again. “We were, maybe,” she muttered, but she couldn't deny how right the song felt now. 

Jade shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms, and Kit could see the walls go up again. “But even back then I wasn’t quite ready— Remember that talent show?”

Kit chuckled, the memory still fresh. “You were so nervous you almost passed out. I had to practically drag you onto the stage.”

Jade snorted, the tension in her shoulders easing just slightly. “I thought you’d never forgive me for that.”

“How could I not?” Kit teased, her voice gentle, her gaze lingering on Jade’s face. “You were still shaking when we had our sleepover that night.”

Jade’s face flushed, and she quickly looked away, trying to hide the sudden shift in her expression. “Ugh, that sleepover was a disaster.”

Kit’s smile softened, and for a moment, the weight of the past seemed to pull them closer. “Yeah, but it was also the night we…” Kit’s voice trailed off, and her hand, almost instinctively, found its way to Jade’s. 

The touch was small, but it spoke volumes. The closeness between them was undeniable. “I think I’ve forgiven you for that day by now,” Kit said, her teasing tone lingering in the air, but her eyes were serious. “So… do you forgive me?”

"I—"

Kit’s gaze softened, her voice quieter, but laced with something a little deeper. “I still think we’re a good team. And that song—” she paused, watching Jade closely, “—it’s incredible. You’ve got something no one else does. Maybe we could… I don’t know, finish it together? Make it ours.”

Jade's breath caught in her throat, her hands frozen on the guitar. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words stalled. Kit’s suggestion felt too close, too personal.

“I don’t need your help with this,” Jade said quickly, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness.

Kit raised an eyebrow, playful yet persistent. “Sure you do. You know you can’t resist. It’s better with both of us.”

Jade clenched her jaw, unwilling to admit that Kit might be right. “Just... don’t make this about us,” she said, voice tight, but the words fell flat.

Kit tilted her head, a knowing smile curling at the corner of her lips. “You’re right. It’s about you... and me... and whatever happens when we make music together.”

Jade looked away, her chest tight. She knew Kit wasn’t just talking about the song anymore. 

They were so close now, the space between them charged. 

Jade gulped, trying to swallow her emotions down. She said nothing.

Kit's voice was quiet, tentative, as she met Jade’s gaze. “I know it’s about me.”

Jade’s heart skipped a beat. She froze for a moment, unsure how to respond, but the words had already escaped her lips. “What?”

“The song,” Kit whispered, filling the silence between them. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”

Jade’s breath hitched, but she quickly masked it, leaning back slightly, trying to regain control. She didn’t want to face the truth, didn’t want to acknowledge what Kit might’ve just figured out. But it was clear now—Kit was picking at something that Jade had tried so hard to bury.

She shifted in her seat, looking anywhere but Kit’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kit smiled, almost too gently. “Come on, Jade. I know you. It’s in your eyes when you sing. That’s the only reason it sounds so… real. So raw.”

Jade’s stomach churned. Her eyes burned, and her throat tightened, but she refused to give Kit the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable. She had to stop this before Kit wormed her way back in again. She knew what Kit was doing—she always knew.

Kit pressed on, her voice soft but sure. “You don’t have to lie about it. You wrote it for me, didn’t you?”

Jade’s hands shook, the familiar feeling of being manipulated creeping in. God, why am I letting her get inside my head again? She hated herself for it. She hated herself for letting Kit get to her all over again, for letting the past resurface and pull her under. 

“Why do you always do this?” Jade’s voice was suddenly sharp, rising with the bitterness she hadn’t let herself feel in years. “Why do you always make it about you?”

Kit blinked, taken aback. “Woah, Jade—”

“No,” Jade cut her off, her words coming fast now, as though she couldn’t stop them even if she tried. “I’m so stupid. I let you back in. I really thought this time it would be different. But here you are, doing the same thing again.”

Kit’s chest tightened. “What? I’m just trying to help.”

“No,” Jade hissed, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. “You’re trying to control me, like you always have. I wrote that song for myself. I didn’t write it for you, I didn’t write it for anyone. It’s mine. And you had to go and twist it into something else.”

Kit opened her mouth to speak, but Jade wasn’t done. 

“I’m so pathetic,” she muttered under her breath, barely able to keep the tears back. "I let myself get lost in this again—singing like I was still waiting for you to come back."

Kit’s heart twisted painfully. She felt the weight of her past decisions, the things she had done to Jade, but Jade was pushing her away so forcefully now that Kit didn’t know how to reach her. 

“You’re not pathetic,” Kit said quietly, her voice breaking. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Jade shook her head, a laugh tinged with bitterness escaping her lips. “You don’t get it, do you? You never meant to hurt me. But you did. You always do.” 

Kit’s throat tightened. “Jade, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Jade spat, her voice sharp, bitter. “I’m not your damn charity project. I don’t need another apology. I need to be done with you.”

Jade stood abruptly, her breath shallow, her hands clenched at her sides. “I need to protect myself from this, Kit.” 

Kit reached out instinctively, but Jade stepped back, her face hardening.

“You don’t get to do this to me again. I’m done,” Jade muttered, her voice shaking with a finality that left Kit breathless. “When you see me at the shop, don’t talk to me.”

Kit’s chest constricted, her breath catching in her throat. She tried to speak, but the words stuck. She wasn’t sure how to fix this. She wasn’t sure if she even could anymore.

Jade paused at the door, not turning around. She kept her back to Kit, her voice softer now, but the pain was still there. “I’ve seen this before. I saw you leave. I saw you disappear, and I can’t do that again. I won’t.”

Kit felt the weight of Jade’s words, and for the first time, she felt the full depth of what she’d done. How she’d made everything about her own guilt and regret, without ever really seeing what Jade had gone through.

Kit watched her leave, a pang of regret seeping into her chest. She wanted to hold on. To fix what was broken. But Jade had already pulled away. And she was once again alone with the echoes of their past.