Playlist

"What's the song that always makes you dance?"

"Smooth Criminal." Gray didn't even have to think about it. "Gets me every time."

Erza raised an eyebrow. "Oh? That's something I'd like to see."

"I charge extra for stripping."

"Nothing I haven't already seen. You've spoiled us all by doing it for free all the time."

Having nothing to say to that, Gray sipped his coffee. Tactical retreats were always made better with coffee, especially in shops with an unlimited refill policy. Helped him formulate strategies and such.

"What about you?" he asked, changing the subject. "What gets Titania twirling?"

Even in a coffee shop, Erza had tea. She raised the saucer halfway, picked up the cup and sipped quietly. Not even her worst enemies could say that Erza Scarlet wasn't proper.

"There are too many," she replied after putting both cup and saucer back on the table. "The one that comes to mind right now is Dancing Queen, honestly."

Gray chuckled. The song was just... so Erza. "Classic. But do you have, like, a playlist for dancing songs or something?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"No, Erza. No they don't."

She tilted her head, considering this. "But playlists are so convenient. Why wouldn't everybody have playlists?"

"I wouldn't know, really."

"You have playlists, right?"

"A few, yeah."

"Are they, or are they not, convenient?"

Gray sipped his coffee again and shrugged. "I guess. Yeah. They can be. I've never really thought much about it."

Erza smiled and placed her chin on her palm. "Sometimes, when I have nothing else to do, I'll make a playlist or two. I think it's fun."

"Fun how?"

"It's just... how do I explain it..." She closed her eyes and hummed. "It's like... every song on a playlist is something you like, right? So it's a reflection of how you feel. That's why I just really love mix tapes."

"Why's that?"

"Because when you make them for a person, you're putting in songs that mean something to you. It's intimate in a way. Like you're telling someone how you feel with music." She smiled. "I remember others doing it, but cassettes have given way to online playlists now."

Gray always knew Erza was a sap – it was obvious, really – but this was new. The idea stuck with him though, and he kept turning it over after getting home.

That's such a dopey thing to do, though, he thought as he looked through the songs on his device. Make a playlist for someone to tell them how I feel? Who does that? Pfft.

Later, as he was reading article after article about why mix tapes were popular and what the entire movement was about, he told himself that he'd never do it, that it was for romantics and poets. And I am none of those, nope.

He went to bed that night wondering what songs he'd put on a mix tape for Erza. It was a harmless little fantasy, and within a half hour he had a complete list. That made him happy, but soon, Gray realised that he was doomed.

I need help, he thought and picked up the phone. He waited, listening to the dial tone. It took seven rings before his call was answered.

"Hello?"

"What're you doing?"

"Wuzasleep. Whaddaya want?"

Gray glanced at the clock on the nightstand. A quarter past one. He shrugged. All's fair in love and music. "I need your help to make a mix tape."

Loke was silent a while. "Right now?"

"No. Tomorrow."

"Fine." A more defeated tone Gray had never before heard from his friend. "Now let me sleep."

And he promptly hung up. Gray didn't mind though. Early next morning, with a box of ten empty cassettes, he appeared on Loke's doorstep, nervous and excited in equal measure. He'd never done anything so overtly romantic before, but Loke laughed it off.

"Love, my friend, is a sickness," he said. "A wonderful sickness, but a sickness nonetheless. Makes us act all out-of-character. Don't sweat it."

Gray just rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. I'm too cool to be sweating."

"That's the spirit." Loke smirked and then gestured grandly at his cassette deck. "Behold! The object of your salvation! Gray, meet Josephine!"

Gray wanted to smack his forehead. "You... you named it–"

"Uh-uh-uh." Loke waggled his finger at him. "She's a woman, Gray. We treat her with respect."

"Why are you like this?"

"I was kicked in the head as a child," he replied with a grin and clapped his hands. "Well then, let's get you on your way to making your first tape, shall we?"

It was a relatively straightforward process, or so Loke said. "Stick the blank tape in the right side, and the one you're copying from in the left. Queue up the song you want and hit play on the left, and hit play and record on the right, and bingo! Song copied."

Gray found it somewhat more challenging than that.

Timing the songs so that the pauses weren't too long was the most important thing. Sometimes he stopped recording before the song had finished playing. Sometimes he waited too long to press the damn record button.

While Loke was somewhat appreciative of the list he'd compiled, there were too many songs.

"There's a kind of magic in sticking to analogue limits," he said. "You have to tailor it accordingly. There's a flow. You have the general atmosphere down. You just have to figure out the order, so it communicates what you're tryna say."

And after five hours of hard labour – during which six cassettes had been wasted – Gray finally held the lucky seventh in his hand, both proud and relieved. Twelve tracks, six on either side. Hopefully, it was good enough. Loke, after listening to the finished product over lunch, said that it was pretty good for a first timer. Then he grinned.

"That's what she said," he said, and started snickering at his own joke. Gray smacked him upside the head with a rolled up magazine.

But with the completion of the tape came the hardest part: actually handing it over.

On his way to meet her that evening, Gray found a sudden weakness in his knees, a tightness in his throat, and a fogginess in his mind. He was nervous, he concluded, but he couldn't see the reason why.

You'd think after twenty years of existing on this planet, I'd have maxed out on embarrassment. Hahahahano. Fuck my life.

He arrived early and proceeded to consume five cups of coffee in fifteen minutes. Erza was never late, but his nervousness had pushed him to get there first, not that it achieved anything. He realised belatedly that all the coffee was counterproductive to combating anxiety, and when Erza appeared at the cafe, he stood up bolt upright and almost said, "Good evening, Ma'am!"

His superior sense of self-control prevented that from happening, and instead he said, "Good evening, Erza!"

She smiled and sat down across from him. "At ease, soldier. You may sit. You don't have to stand for me."

"I knew that," he said quickly and sat down, debating whether he ought to give it to her now or save it for when they parted for the night. The cassette in his pocket was the main source of his anxiety, and he kept bouncing his leg up and down while they chatted. Being with her took away some of the tension – he couldn't help but melt a bit when he saw her smile. It relaxed him enough and he was able to carry a decent conversation.

But soon enough, the bill was paid and the table was cleared. It was time for them to head their separate ways. Gray kept telling himself that giving her the tape wouldn't give him a seizure but he just couldn't make himself believe.

"Well, I should be going now," she said with a smile. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Give it to her you fool! Do it now! He nodded. "I'll be here."

"All right. See you tomorrow, Gray. Good night."

"Night." Chicken. Chicken-man. Go die in a ditch. Here lies Gray Fullbuster, died of embarrassment while giving his girlfriend a mixtape. I am such a failure, Dad forgive me–

He clutched the cassette in his pocket as she turned to walk away. Good God man, get your shit together! Consider it challenging her!

That did the trick.

"Erza, wait!"

She hadn't taken more than three steps when she stopped and turned around, puzzled. "Gray?"

Hallelujah! Now or never, boy!

He pulled out the cassette, almost dropped it, caught it before it hit the ground, swore under his breath and held it out to her, completely and utterly panicked.

"I, uh, I kinda sorta made you this," he said as she blinked at the tape. "It's my first try and I'm sorry if it sucks, but, uh, I wanted to give this to you."

Erza looked up at him and he looked away, scratching his cheek. I can't do this please take the tape–

"I see," she said, but he could hear the laughter in her voice. Looking back, he found her smiling warmly and it almost did him in right there and then. She took it from him and stepped close. "This is very sweet, Gray."

And just like that, all his anxiety left him.

"I'll give you a review tomorrow, okay?"

And just like that, all his anxiety returned.

How he managed to sleep that night, Gray didn't know. His brain just wouldn't shut up. He woke up a nervous wreck, wondering how much Erza hated it. He rationalised that if she really liked it, she would've rung him up and told him.

She hates it. It sucks. Not surprising, considering this is my first try. I should've stuck to flowers. Or cake. I know she likes cake, why did I fuck around with things I don't understand fuck me sideways–

All day he spent like one getting ready to face the firing squad. He shaved, cleaned his house, organised his papers, wrote his will and decided to sign up for organ donation. When the time came to get going, he looked at the watch and sighed.

"Time to face the music, Fullbuster," he told himself, but stopped and frowned. "I hate myself."

But with the courage of one about to face certain death, Gray marched on over to the coffee house and drank ten cups of coffee in ten minutes – his personal best. He was wondering whether it was possible to drink coffee to death when Erza showed up.

She was smiling, though she carried a sheaf of papers in one hand. Gray squinted, instantly on alert. It was only recently that he'd learnt the full extent of her obsession with music. She kept detailed notes on every band or artist she liked – who sang what, where, when, why and how. It'd put any journalist to shame. Notes regarding the dissection of lyrics, instruments used, scale of voice. Everything. It was maniacal. Somewhat frightening, even.

If the gauze of hyperactivity was stripped away though, Gray thought it was kind of cute. Just a girl being passionate about something she enjoyed. Nothing wrong with that. Only Erza Scarlet could bring that level of dedication to anything. In fact, she pursued music with the same passion that Juvia used to stalk him.

I take it back. There's nothing cute about that at all. God help me.

"Hi," Erza said as she sat down, her face flushed beautifully. "I know I promised you a review, but I got carried away and wrote an essay." She placed the papers on the table and cleared her throat. Before Gray could get a word in, she was off to the races.

"I see you told a story with your songs, Gray. 'Running down a dream' seemed as though it were the foundation. A man is living his life by his own rules and chasing down a dream. 'Strutter' is the inciting incident, when a beautiful woman enters his life. She turns his world upside down with her confidence and he does not know what to do. 'A Little Less Conversation' is the first song that had an overtly sexual nature."

She paused. "It seemed to set off some friction or an explosive spark? 'Slow Ride' is another spark song, but slower and more intimate. 'You Shook Me All Night Long' is also a spark song, this one is not so much about having sex, but about how the sex is so enjoyable. 'Free Bird's entire message was 'this is how I am, take it or leave it'. The song's lyrics state that the singer can't be changed, so I figure it means 'This is great and all, but if you think I'm changing for it, then you are mistaken'. What I got from 'Stray' was that there were no regrets, everything that's happened thus far isn't seen as negative. 'Here I Go Again' was more of an 'I'm alone again', so given the context it might mean that Stray was him leaving to do his own thing for a while?"

She tilted her head, apparently questioning herself. "But it's victorious, so there's still that 'no regret' theme that's been running. 'Faithfully' seems to be a returning song. After they've gone their separate ways, they reunite or are at least remaining faithful to the one they've left behind. 'Coming Home' seems fairly self-explanatory to me. It's the actual reuniting as well as a challenge. Are they going to make it work this time? 'Hold the Line' seems to say 'finally, we're here to stay'. Now that they've gone their separate ways and have come back, they're willing to stick together and stay. 'Two Tickets to Paradise' is their 'happily ever after' song. They leave the convoluted way they got together and broke apart and got back together behind in order to truly start their lives together."

Erza looked up at him and smiled. "And that's all I got. Was I close?"

As the waitress refilled his cup and brought Erza her usual tea, Gray gawked wordlessly at her. How in the fuck could she just analyse everything with a straight face while he was dying inside?

"I, yeah," he said eventually. "Yeah you nailed it, pretty much. Wow."

Smiling triumphantly, Erza tackled her tea. "I spent all night listening to it. I wanted to do it justice."

"Did you... like it?"

"Gray, I loved it. It was the highlight of my entire day."

Don't say such embarrassing things so casually damn it!

Gray chuckled nervously and stared down at his coffee. "R-really?"

"Of course. You made something for me, and I had a wonderful time with it. Your hard work shows. And as a thank you, I made you this."

He looked up to see her pushing a cassette tape towards him across the table. She smiled at him softly.

"I heard what you had to say," Erza whispered. "Consider this my reply. There are three parts, with four tracks in each, and each part has a name." She tucked a coil of hair behind her ear. "Don't ask me what they are, Gray. I'll never be able to tell you."

He wanted to ask what she meant by that, why she couldn't tell him, what was stopping her, but he looked up from the cassette at her and understood.

Making a tape was like writing a letter – there's a lot of erasing and rethinking and starting over. You were essentially using some else's poetry to share your feelings, always a tricky business. A good compilation tape, like breaking up, was hard to do. She wanted to tell him something, and she had done so in her own way. Whether he grasped the message or not was up to him.

So Gray nodded. "All right."

That night, after coming home, Gray fished out his old Walkman. It had been a while since he'd laid eyes on the thing and he was relieved when he found it still worked. He found he couldn't wait until after he was done with dinner – he was too nervous anyway – and stuck the stuck cassette in. With a nervous heart, Gray sat down to listen to Erza's reply.

It started out with 'Dark Necessities' and Gray found himself relaxing and clicking his fingers. She'd followed it up with 'High Hopes', 'Eminence Font' and 'Zephyr Song', all classics. That was the first part. The second part was newer, consisting of 'The Dare', 'Lust For Life', 'I Wanna Be Yours' and 'Quit'. It was slower and steamier and it made him very hot under the collars. Gray gulped as the final four started, and he was hit again by tracks he recognised and loved: 'Every Breath You Take', 'You're My Home' and 'Nothing Else Matters'.

Gray enjoyed these immensely. As the familiar tune of 'You Look Wonderful' started playing, he closed his eyes and leaned back to properly experience the last song. But he was ill-prepared for what came at him.

It was common knowledge that Erza Scarlet's singing voice was just as devastating as her sword arm. Music was still important to her, though, and she hummed and swayed with it whenever something she liked was on. Gray only remembered her singing voice from a drunken karaoke performance from many years ago. He hadn't heard her sing since, but that was one memory he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon.

However, everything changed and records were broken all the time. So when Gray heard Erza's voice singing him the classic song, he felt his heart trying to break out of its confines and sat up straight in his armchair. To say it was a pleasant surprise was an understatement, and he couldn't even formulate a thought.

Only when the music stopped did he start breathing properly. He rewound the tape and listened to the song again. Then again. He listened to it until he knew every pause and every breath. Her voice was gentle, warm, and incredibly affectionate. Why she didn't sing more often he didn't know, but that was not the question he wanted answered at the moment.

Gray glanced at his wristwatch. Half past ten. Not that late. He took out the earbuds and leapt out of his chair. A sudden wave of energy crashed into him, and he left the house at a run. Time couldn't be wasted, not now.

Erza had told him that a mixtape was intimate, but she didn't tell him just how intimate it could be. It seemed like she'd just bared his soul to him without saying a word. Had he done the same? Is that what she heard? The thought scared him and thrilled him and filled him with happiness.

But there was a place where words had to be said directly. He supposed he could've called, but that just didn't seem personal enough. But as he was climbing the tree outside her apartment complex and gingerly walking along the branch that led to her bedroom window, Gray felt that he was overreacting just a little bit.

Nah.

He knocked on her window, waited, and when she opened it, dressed in pajamas, hair down and hairbrush in hand, her mouth agape in shock and worry, Gray found himself grinning.

"Hey," he said. "I just finished your tape."

"Gray! That branch can't support your weight!"

"It's fine, I ran here. Burnt all that holiday weight."

She stepped aside. "Get in. Right now."

"Yes, yes."

He'd been in her room before on multiple occasions, but never had he entered in so grand a manner. Fit for a rom-com movie, he thought as Erza closed the window.

"What're you doing here?" she asked him. "That was so dangerous!"

All his anxiety was gone, replaced with a cheeky recklessness. Gray didn't know what had happened, whether Erza's singing voice had brainwashing powers or not, but he felt good. And he smiled at her and sad, "You should sing more."

Her cheeks coloured immediately and she looked down at the floor. It was the most adorable thing.

"I spent a lot of time overthinking whether I should've done that," she said. "Made me start worrying you wouldn't like it."

Gray stepped up to her and took her in his arms. Erza squeaked in surprise but held on to her hairbrush somehow.

"I loved it," he whispered into her hair, rubbing her back. "And I loved the tape."

After a while, she wrapped her arms around him as well.

"I'm glad," she replied.

"Still won't tell me the names of the parts?"

"No."

"It's all right. I think I figured it out."

"You did?"

"Mhmm." He pulled away slightly to smile at her. "But it's something I can only show you."

"How?"

Gray cupped her face and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Like that."

By then, Erza's face had fully embraced the colour of her hair, and she spluttered something incoherent. Gray chuckled and kissed her lips softly.

Sometimes, no words are required to say what needs to be said. She'd shown him that. He was just returning the favour.

Upon separating, he lingered and brushed his nose against hers before kissing her again. She smiled into this one. Then a thought occurred to him and he pulled her close and placed his forehead against hers.

"Say, Erza, you wouldn't have a playlist for making out, would you?"

Erza just grinned.