As always, huge thanks for reading and to those who left comments ( , guest and Fairy Princess Moon) 3

Riven was surprised to find Musa in the kitchen when he went downstairs on Sunday morning. She'd spent the entirety of yesterday in her room. He'd brought her breakfast – a proper breakfast, not the fruit or toast and gallon of coffee she usually had – and dinner. She'd refused to open the door, though she did at least speak to confirm that she was alive, so he'd left the food at her door. When he'd returned half an hour later, the plates were still outside and filled with food. A little bit had been taken on both, so he contented himself with knowing she had eaten at least a bit.

At some point through the day, several deliveries had arrived. A bouquet of flowers came first – the card had read All my love, Stella xo. Next had been a box of macarons from some fancy bakery courtesy of Bloom, who, if he remembered correctly, was the redhead he'd only seen that first night. Third had been a basket of assorted candies and champagne from Aisha. Fourth, around lunch, had been a delivery of bubble tea and dumplings for Tecna, the delivery guy had said. Riven had taken the food and brought it up to Musa. Again, she'd refused to open the door, but she had eaten some of it and finished the bubble tea when he went back up later. He'd hoped that would be it for the deliveries, but then Mirta had shown up in the late afternoon with stacks of candies and treats, and sixteen bouquets of flowers. There was so much stuff that she'd had to take four trips to and from Faragonda's office, as well as multiple trips to her car. "From her fans" the burgundy-haired girl had explained with a laugh when Riven questioned why Mirta was bringing Musa so much stuff. Lastly, sometime just after supper, Jared had shown up with a bouquet bigger than his giant, obnoxious head, a box of chocolate and a bottle of wine wanting to see his girlfriend. Riven had reluctantly let him in, but Musa had refused to see him, and Riven couldn't deny that he was a bit happy at her brutal rejection of the actor.

"Please tell me that's not what you're having for breakfast" he groaned as he watched the singer pick through the packs of chocolates for the ones she liked. She offered him one but pulled her hand away when he glared at her.

"It's not all I'm having."

"Good. Chocolate is not a proper breakfast."

"I'm also having coffee" she shrugged, laughing at the unamused expression that crossed his face. Something had changed in their dynamic after their mid-night conversation. Riven, she thought, saw her more as a person and she, much to her own surprise, was starting to see someone who maybe wasn't a total dick. He'd brought her food and water all day yesterday for crying out loud. How could anyone who would do that for someone they didn't even like be a complete jerk? "Besides, who decided what is and isn't breakfast food anyways?"

Riven rolled her eyes at her, though his back was turned to her and she didn't see it, as he cracked an egg into a pan. Like she knew how he'd react to her question, Musa laughed. He was finding that he liked her laugh; it was loud and joyful. What? No.

Musa downed the rest of her coffee and packed away the boxes of chocolate she'd opened as Riven finished making his breakfast. He took a seat and watched as she put her empty cup in the dishwasher and swung back around, resting her elbows on the island counter. "So, I've been thinking..."

"About?" Riven funnelled the eggs into his mouth, not bothering to look up at Musa as he spoke. The last time she'd had an idea, it had been for him to join her in the hot tub. That had ended with her storming out and him enjoying an hour of peace and quiet.

"Well, I'm visiting my dad today -" she started tentatively. She shifted her position so that she was holding her weight on one arm while the other brushed back her messy black hair.

"I'm aware." It made sense that visit dad was on today's schedule. It was Father's Day, after all. Personally, he'd never celebrated; never seen the point of celebrating a man he hated so much. Musa, like most other people, presumably did not hate her father, so of course she'd want to spend the day with him.

"And I just don't think that'd be interesting for you."

"Oh, I can assure you it won't be." Riven had no interest in spending time with Musa's father. Granted, he didn't have to interact with the man, just hang around while Musa spent time with her dad. Still, father/daughter bonding time was not his idea of fun – but then, neither were the whole days in the recording studio or the photo shoot that Musa had on the calendar for next week, dance rehearsals he could stomach.

"And since he lives in a gated community up in White Plains, I thought maybe you could take the day off."

"Nope." He couldn't even if it did sound like a great idea. An entire day where he didn't have to watch Musa's every move, search every room before she went in, follow her around or be paranoid about every unknown person – what a dream. He could hang out with Nabu or go home and fuck Darcy. Except that he couldn't. If he left his post, he'd get an earful from Saladin and even risk losing his job. No, scratch that: he'd definitely lose his job.

"Oh, come on. I'll still pay you for it."

"No."

"But just having you hanging around all the time is fucking weird." And it was. She didn't feel uncomfortable around him, per se, but having someone watch her every move was strange. Seven years in the spotlight with people caring about everything she did – what she ate, who she spoke to, what she wore, where she went, and everything in between – had done nothing to prepare her for a full-time bodyguard. At least with the public, she could hide out in her home or her studio and not interact with them. With Riven, though, he was everywhere; there was no break from him. Even in her room, there were cameras so he could be watching her in case something happened. The only place she had was her bathroom.

It didn't help that she felt a tad uncomfortable around him now that she knew he'd seen her at her most vulnerable. Musa prided herself on being a strong person; on being able to withstand any storm. Her mother's death just happened to, unfortunately, be a storm that blew through every year, wrecking her down to her foundation for a day or two. Every June, she relived her world falling apart, and the subsequent misery that had come from her mother's death: the months of struggling to take care of her father as he fell apart and became a shell of the man he'd once been; being nine years old and having to worry about paying bills so that they wouldn't end up homeless or sitting in a dark apartment; scavenging for food in places she'd rather never be near again, buying what she could and stealing the rest; nights spent trying to get her father to eat or bathe; begging their landlord not to evict them for being a few months behind on rent. Yes, her mother was her weak point, and she knew it. She also knew she didn't like that someone that she didn't know, and who had such a low opinion of her, had seen her at her weakest.

There was also the fact that her father had mentioned wanting to talk to her about something when they'd been on the phone last week. He wasn't the type to want to have face to face conversations unless it was important, so she figured a serious talk was in order. The stalker situation had rid Musa of what little privacy she did have, and she wasn't about to let it intrude on her father's. He'd had enough of his life invaded after they'd made up and been spotted together for the first time. She couldn't explain all that to Riven, he wouldn't get it – and likely wouldn't care – so she settled for wanting space.

"It's been three weeks, how are you not used to it?"

"Then invite someone!" she suggested, thinking maybe if he had someone to distract him, she wouldn't need to feel this discomfort, and she and her father could have their private conversation in private. "Your girlfriend, a friend... Do you have friends?"

"Yes." Riven stopped eating and glared at her. Musa shrunk under his burning gaze and became visibly awkward. "Sorry. You've just not mentioned them. Or anything really."

"I don't talk about my personal life with my employer."

"Mhm. Whatever. Just invite someone." Musa walked away before Riven could argue that that was 'against protocol' or whatever. She didn't care; she just wanted to feel like there weren't constantly eyes on her for five minutes. Especially his now that he'd seen her so small.

Riven finished his breakfast and, as he was putting the plate away, decided he would invite someone. He knew it was unprofessional and, if it got back to Saladin, would result in a scolding, but it beat sitting around and staring at his phone while Musa hung out with her father. Besides, Musa had basically ordered it, and her father did live in a gated community, so there were less odds of Musa's stalker trying something there. If the stalker even existed. Riven wasn't convinced he did; it had been three weeks and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. No letters, phone calls or strange men peering at her through holes in their newspaper.

"Hey!"

"What are you doing today?"

"Trying to cheer up Icy" Darcy groaned.

"Still?" Darcy let out an exasperated sigh in response. In the background, he could hear Stormy blabbering on about men being completely useless and Icy being better off without Darko. Icy blubbered something that Riven couldn't understand. It was strange for him to think of Icy being upset – or even having feelings at all. She was always so cool and collected, and, besides the occasional disgust or irritation, never seemed to feel much. Yet there she was, crying like a child who'd had their dessert taken away over some, in Riven's opinion, complete asshole.

"It was a really bad fight, apparently." Darcy didn't sound like she believed what she was saying but Riven didn't press it. He wasn't interested in the goings-on of Icy's relationship and feelings. Besides, he knew Darcy would tell him everything once the situation has settled. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Have fun with Icy."

"Thanks" Darcy scoffed. "Have fun with princess."

"Oh yeah. Hours and hours of fun." They hung up and Riven stared at the phone in his hand. He decided to call Nabu and see if he wanted to join. It had been nearly two months since the two had seen each other, though they had texted. Riven didn't know when the next time he'd get to see a friend was, so he would take the opportunity when it was presented to him on a silver platter.

"Shouldn't you be working?" Nabu scolded when he answered, a laugh cracking through his serious tone.

"Most of my job is doing nothing." He was not kidding. In the three weeks he'd spent with Musa, he'd managed to get through all seven seasons of Sons of Anarchy, the first three seasons of Vikings, and eight books. No job he'd ever taken had given him this much free time before and he was strangely annoyed with it. Where most people would love to have a job that paid them to hang out, Riven felt antsy. He needed to do something besides read.

"Living the dream, my friend."

"Am I?" Riven retorted skeptically. He sipped his coffee and walked over to the living room, where he dropped himself on the couch. The room consisted of a sleek, velvety cream coloured three-seater and two matching chairs facing a TV that may have been larger than the couch itself. A glass coffee table – where Riven propped his feet up, sans shoes because, despite having not been properly raised, he wasn't a slob – sat in the middle of the sofas. Under the TV was a stand filled with video game consoles and their accompanying games – right down to a freaking Nintendo 64, something he could see Timmy flipping out over – as well as DVDs galore. On the right in the corner was a Foosball table, opposite a sleek black upright piano on the left. Riven hadn't seen Musa use anything in the room so he'd started to convince himself it was for show; that she didn't watch TV or have people over.

"Getting paid a pretty penny to basically babysit people? Yeah. Better than watching a bunch of kids, and definitely making more than I ever made as a babysitter."

"I bet you were a shitty babysitter anyways."

"Hey! I'll have you know that kids love me." Riven didn't doubt that. Nabu had a natural way with people; never had to try to get them to like him the way Riven did. With Nabu, they just liked him. And Riven couldn't blame them; Nabu was good natured, friendly, smart, funny, charming. He was an all-around likeable guy.

"You probably bribed them."

"You're the only one that needs to pay people to want to be around them" Nabu shot back.

"At least I have the money to pay them."

"Touché" he laughed. Nabu came from a wealthy family in Florida. He was studying Management at the Columbia Business School, which his parents were paying for. Nabu, however, was not given unlimited access to his parents' money; they'd insisted – and he'd agreed – that he would get what he needed to live and, if he wanted extra, he'd have to work for it. "What are you calling for?"

"What are you doing today?"

"Being my regular ol' broke-ass self, apparently" Nabu joked. "Also, putting off studying. Why?"

"Wanna go for a trip?"

"Where?"

"White Plains."

"What's in White Plains?"

"Musa's dad. She's insisted I invite someone along."

"Interesting..."

"It's not, actually."

"You suck at hyping things up, man" Nabu laughed. He wasn't wrong but Riven had no idea how to make a trip to visit someone else's father sound the least bit interesting. He didn't even know anything about the man besides that he was a widower. "Are you in or not?" Riven demanded, causing Nabu to even harder. Every time he stopped and tried to speak the laughter started again. Riven didn't quite get what was so funny about it, but Nabu always got a kick out of Riven snapping at people. "Yes or no, Nabu. It's not that hard."

"Fuck yeah. Beats studying." Nabu managed to answer, but not without a few chortles breaking up his words. He managed to take a few deep breaths and calm himself. "Sorry. You know I find it hilarious when you get all angry and serious." Nabu spoke the last words in a mocking voice that he knew annoyed Riven. The maroon-haired man grumbled unintelligibly and Nabu laughed again. "So, what's she like?"

"Huh?"

"Musa. Is she as cool as she seems in interviews?"

"You're fucking with me, right?"

"I'm not. She seems cool."

Riven rolled his eyes at his friend. Nabu thought everyone had something interesting to say or something worthwhile to contribute to the world; that may have been part of the reason Riven liked him, but he'd never admit that. They'd once somehow ended up talking to a World War 2 vet at a coffee shop for two hours because the man had been at the table next to them. Riven had been irritated by the man's inability to shut up, but Nabu asked questions whenever the man stopped for a moment. At the end of the conversation, when the man had finally been pulled away because he was going to be late for a doctor's appointment, Nabu had simply commented on what a fascinating man he was. No doubt, Nabu would also think Musa was wonderful even if Riven wasn't convinced.

As luck would have it, Musa walked down the steps at that very moment, freshly showered and ready to go. She stood at the living room door with her hands buried in the pockets of her baggy black pants, waiting for him to get off the phone. "Be ready in about half an hour" he told Nabu, who started to say something as Riven hung up. He turned to Musa, questioning whether she was ready to go or not. Musa confirmed that she was and that Wizgiz, her driver, was waiting for them.

Riven wasn't sure how he felt about Wizgiz. The short, old Irish man had a strange sense of humour, but seemed a nice enough guy. He'd been working for Musa since she started and thought of her as the daughter he'd never had – and that was an exact quote from the first day they'd met. Musa seemed to like him, though. She always made a point of asking how his wife was – she had recently gone into remission from breast cancer – and discuss with him when he felt chatty or listen to him if she didn't. Riven didn't interact much with him beyond anything work related, but then again, he'd never been good at forming relationships with people. His relationship with Darcy was based on a series of hook ups that eventually formed into a relationship; Nabu is the one that befriended him; Flora has lived next door to him for years and they'd been forced together because they were the only two kids on the block; and Timmy had just happened to take his lunch at the same time as Riven when they were in the office and they'd bonded over a book they just happened to both be reading at the same time.

Nabu and Musa, seated together in the back, unsurprisingly, hit it off right away. Nabu wasn't a shy person and immediately started asking her about plans for her upcoming album and Musa was more than happy to answer what she could. She'd been surprised that Riven had done as requested and invited a friend. She was even more surprised that Nabu was the friend. He was so outgoing and friendly, a stark contrast to the surly bodyguard. He, Musa and Wizgiz conversed happily on the hour-long ride up, while Riven watched the cars on the highway, occasionally participating in conversation when pressed by Nabu.

Musa's father lived on a cul de sac with a guarded gate at the front. His building was the last on the street, and Riven was surprised to see a security guard at the entrance of the building too. Musa mentioned that her father hadn't particularly wanted this much security, he'd liked the condo and it just happened to be extra secure.

After signing in at the security desk, where the guard spoke Musa like she was an old friend, they took the elevator up to the fourth floor. Riven, Nabu and Musa were greeted at the apartment door by her father, a short, portly man with thinning grey hair and kind dark blue eyes. He pulled Musa into a hug, which the singer happily returned. He introduced himself to Riven and Nabu as William (1), shaking the two men's hands with vigor and inviting them in. They entered an open living room that led off to a small terrace on the right and into a hallway at the back. "I thought you only had one bodyguard?" William questioned as he offered coffee or tea and ushered them outside. The terrace overlooked the buildings private courtyard, complete with tennis court and pool. Below them, an older couple lobbed a tennis ball back and forth, clearly engaged in a competitive game.

"Oh, I'm not a bodyguard" Nabu laughed. "Though, I'm flattered you think I look like I could be." Musa wasn't sure why Nabu thought he didn't. Sure, he didn't exactly reach Riven's height – a solid foot taller than her 5'2" - but he was quite tall, and he wasn't as broad or visibly strong as Riven, but the flex in his arms gave away that he worked out. Besides, there was no rule saying bodyguards had to be built; they could be stealthy or deceptively strong.

"I insisted that Riven bring a friend since watching us talk might bore him."

"I see" William said.

"N-not that I assumed you were boring or anything" Riven defended clumsily. He faltered under the older man's laughter and returned his attention to his coffee. Beside him, Nabu had cocked an eyebrow. "I didn't assume you had. Besides, I'm very happy to meet Nabu."

"I'm very happy to meet you too." Riven loathed Nabu. Hated him. Him and his ability to make conversation or have everyone he met like him. Musa's father brought them drinks, during which Musa and Nabu discussed how nice her father was. When William rejoined them, he began asking them questions about the two men and, out of the corner of his eye, Riven saw Musa smirk when he was addressed with a question about where he'd grown up. "Riven here is from the windy city" Nabu answered when Riven stumbled, throwing his arm around the maroon-haired man.

"Chicago, lovely place." Riven hesitated again, so Musa stepped in. She informed her father of one of the very few things she knew about him: his dislike of his hometown. Riven didn't know what was happening to him; his heart beat fast and he stumbled over words. He knew he wasn't exactly a social butterfly, but he wasn't this awkward. Could it be that knowing that he was sitting in front of a man who'd celebrated his wife's death's anniversary just yesterday and he couldn't say anything about it that was messing Riven up? "That's fair" William chuckled. "Growing up somewhere is different than visiting it."

The conversation mercifully turned to Nabu, his childhood in Palm Beach, his love of surfing and his studies. William seemingly figured out that Riven wasn't the chatty type; something Riven was thankful for as his brain had apparently decided to stop functioning. He listened to the conversation around him, but the words just passed through his ears. Every now and then, Musa would catch his eye, though she'd quickly avert her own.

"Where's your bathroom?" Riven asked after having sat silently watching the birds fly by, the couple below finish their tennis match and contributing absolutely nothing to the conversation.

Nabu continued the story of how he'd once met Serena Williams at a café in Florida two years prior while he was home visiting his parents. "I swore I became this babbling mess of a person" he laughed. "She must have thought I was a moron. I can't help it, though; she's so talented and brilliant, and, God, I just love a strong, athletic woman."

"Your celebrity crush?" Musa questioned with a chuckle. Nabu responded with an enthusiastic definitely before looking into the apartment and questioning where the kitchen was.

"What would you like?" her father asked, moving to get whatever it was Nabu wanted. Nabu, however, insisted that he didn't want her father to feel like he had to serve him, and that he was more than happy to get himself a glass of water while the father and daughter duo caught up. "I've been hogging the spotlight, anyways" he joked.

Once Nabu had turned down the hallway, Musa's father turned to her with a look she couldn't quite decipher. It was somewhere between smug and... suggestive? He shifted to rest his left ankle on his opposing knee and laid his intertwined hands on his stomach, all the while observing his daughter. Musa chuckled out an awkward what. "The bodyguard, huh?"

"What about him?" Musa tilted her head, busying her hands with her cup of coffee.

"Oh, nothing" He shrugged, returning his attention to the living room. "He's very attractive."

Musa's brain jumbled at her father's shrewd observation. Her cheeks burned with the redness of her blush, and Musa tried to force it down. "Is he?" she responded, hoping her voice sounded far more nonchalant than she felt. Why was she reacting like this? She knew Riven was attractive – it wasn't as if she didn't have eyes and it hadn't been pointed out to her multiple times by Bloom, Aisha, and Stella, who Aisha had sent a picture of him to after she'd snuck one during rehearsal. She also knew he was a jerk, and she had no more space in her life for jerks.

"He is."

"Would you like me to set you up with him?"

"I'm not talking about me right now, darling. I'm talking about Riven, and the fact that you keep looking at him." William's eyes darted to Musa, whose eyes had turned away towards the courtyard. She saw the knowing smile spread across his face in her peripheral vision.

"He's a jerk" she argued.

Her father laughed, throwing his head back over the top of the grey wicker chair. "Attractive and a jerk. Sounds like your type."

Musa's grip on the hot cup tightened and she bit her tongue, refusing to admit that he was right. He knew her too well, though, and her reaction only served to make him laugh that good-natured laugh even more. They'd had a rocky relationship – especially after her mother's passing where he'd refused everything to do with music, including supporting Musa in her goals. He'd apologised just after the release of her second album, accepting that maybe Musa did have that extra drive that neither he nor her mother had had that would ensure her success, and she definitely had the talent, though he'd already known that. Since then, they'd grown incredibly close – far closer than she ever thought they'd be – and her father knew her as well, if not better, than her best friends. "I'm trying to avoid those, actually."

"And that's why you're dating Jared."

"I like Jared" she defended. She did like Jared. He was sweet, thoughtful, patient, considerate, smart, and calm. Most of the time. Sure, he was also occasionally boring, but that wasn't a bad thing. And yes, maybe she wanted a bit more passion, and maybe they'd been together for over a year and she still didn't love him, but he was... "He's nice."

"Nice is good."

"Yeah... nice is good."

Riven was directed to the end of the hallway, last door on the right. The light blue walls of the hallway were lined with family photos, many of which were of Musa at various ages. The first that caught his eye was a seven- or eight-year-old Musa sitting on the edge of a fountain with her hair in the high pigtails that she usually wore during her downtime. Her hair was long, significantly longer than he'd ever seen it, reaching close to her waist. She was a cute kid. Not surprising considering the gorgeous adult she'd become, he thought fleetingly before his mind snapped and he corrected himself. The next photo was of a twelve-year-old Musa with the short hair and bangs he knew her to have. She wore what must have been a dance costume and was holding a bouquet of flowers in her hand. Then a picture of her at sixteen holding her first Grammy; a picture of her at four holding out the tooth she'd lost, it's missing spot evident in her large smile; a picture of her at two on the lap of her father; a picture of her at six, sitting side by side with her mother at a restaurant; a picture of her at fifteen at an amusement park alongside Tecna and a blonde he assumed must be the Stella girl he'd not yet met; last was a picture of her maybe two years ago of her and her father on what he thought must be the Great Wall of China. Snippets of her life were prominently, and proudly, displayed, and Riven felt a pang go through him. His parents would never have displayed this love and pride for him, and though now he couldn't care less, he would have loved a parent like William growing up.

"What are you doing?" Riven whirled around to find Nabu standing at the end of the hall watching him. The man had a small smile on his face that he tried – and failed – to hide.

"Nothing" Riven replied far too fast for Nabu to believe him. Nabu raised an eyebrow, the smile on his face growing. He approached Riven, throwing an arm around him that Riven grumbled about. Nabu, who in all honesty, hadn't looked at what pictures were on the wall until that very moment laughed when he saw what Riven had been looking at. "That's why you're all stumbly and nervous" he commented.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Riven pushed Nabu's arm off his shoulder, but Nabu only laughed more.

"You like her!" Nabu stated. He held out his hands, resting them on Riven's shoulders and giving the maroon-haired man a gentle shake. Nabu's nearly waist-length dark brown braid slipped over his shoulder and hung in the space between them, rocking like a pendulum counting the seconds that it took for Riven to make sense of the statement.

"Did you hit your head on the way in?" Riven pushed Nabu's arms off and narrowed his eyes. Nabu clasped his hands together in front of him and let out a giddy laugh. "You haven't accepted it yet, that's fine. For what it's worth, I think Musa's great."

Riven didn't dignify him with an answer, merely rolled his eyes and walked into the bathroom. Nabu must be insane to think he could ever be into someone like Musa. Sure, she wasn't as awful as he'd thought she'd be, and, yes, she was quite beautiful and he liked how low-key she was and that, despite having a small body that most girls would kill for, she usually wore clothes that did nothing to show it off. And maybe he liked… no. He liked Darcy. Liked that she was honest and smart and hot. So. Fucking. Hot. He liked that she was a loyal friend and girlfriend; liked that she knew what she wanted and took no shit. Sure, there were times when he wished she'd hear him out when she did something that he didn't like or that she'd consider their relationship a bit more instead of doing what suited her, but those were things he'd decided he could deal with.

He kept smirking and it was annoying Musa. Just because her father knew her well, didn't mean he knew everything. For example, her feelings about Riven. He was just not someone she wanted to date. Sure, he was hot, but that was where it stopped. Okay, maybe he could be really sweet when he wanted to – like when he'd kept making sure she ate and drank the day before – but that didn't mean anything. Besides, she had Jared. And she liked Jared.

"What did you want to talk about?" Musa demanded, grateful that she had an easy out. William's face shifted from one of smugness to straight discomfort. He swallowed heavily and adjusted himself to sit up straight, turning towards her at the same time. "Right, well. There's something I nee-"

The glass terrace door opening stopped him mid-sentence. Nabu walked out, carrying a glass of water, and commenting on the adorable pictures of Musa that lined the hallway. He froze a few inches short of his chair, noticing the tension that hung in the air. Musa requested that he give them another minute, which Nabu obliged, closing the door behind him, and sitting on the couch just in view. "Something you need to tell me?"

"Yes, see. I've, uh," he started nervously. His eyes flitted downwards, then back up, all the while refusing to meet Musa's. The fidgeting of his hands denied the relaxed posture he'd tried to adopt, and he kept stopping to swallow nervously. "I've started seeing someone" he blurted out as quickly as he'd rip off a Band-Aid.

"Sorry, what?" Musa's mind froze in shock at the revelation. William repeated the statement more slowly, leaning forward in concern for his immobile daughter. Musa's mind reeled at a thousand miles a minute yet remained entirely blank. Her father began speaking again, explaining about the woman he'd been seeing – a Judy that lived a few blocks up that he'd met at a coffee shop when they'd agreed to split the last lemon, poppy seed muffin they'd both wanted – but it was white noise at best. His voice carried around her – concerned and hesitant – but her ears refused it entry. She was vaguely aware that she'd gripped at her chair's armrest, holding on so tightly that her knuckles turned white, and that her eyes were blinking as if trying to expel a particle of dust.

Her father was dating someone.

Someone other than her mother.

He was...

"Musa?" William asked, resting his hand on her upper arm, effectively snapping her out of her haze.

"How could you?" she accused. Her mother had been the love of his life, and he'd just tossed her aside like that? She'd never known her father to be a cruel man – not even at his lowest when she'd been the one to take care of him – and it disappointed her to know that it was a facet of his she'd never seen when she'd been so certain it was simply one he didn't possess.

"Musa, it's been thirteen years sin-"

"Unbelievable." Musa was furious. And hurt. She couldn't wrap her mind around him moving on from the woman that had been, according to him, his world. Or had that been a lie? Had her mother meant nothing to him?

Riven finished up in the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, trying to clear his mind of the miserable track Nabu had set it on. He exited the room to find Nabu sitting on the plush grey sofa in the living room scrolling through his phone. "What-"

Nabu cut him off, saying that Musa and her father were discussing something private and had requested a moment. He nodded towards the glass door and Riven's eyes followed. William had his back turned towards them, so Riven couldn't see his facial expression. His shoulders slumped and he leaned forward. Musa, though, looked like she'd just been slapped; like she had no idea what had happened and how to respond to it. William touched her upper arm, and Musa woke. Her eyebrows furrowed and William sat upright, likely taken aback by whatever it was the starlet had just said. "Wonder what they're talking about."

"Dunno, but it doesn't look like Musa's too happy about it" Nabu commented after finally looking up from his phone. As Nabu shifted on the couch to look over at Riven behind it, Musa came through the terrace door with her father hot on her heels.

"We're leaving." William tried to reason with his daughter, asking her over and over to hear him out, but Musa refused to even acknowledge him. Riven and Nabu exchanged confused glances and followed the singer out the door. They waved goodbye to the old man who, for the first time since they'd met, looked older than his mere 50 years.

Musa didn't speak on the way down to the car, try as Nabu might to coax what had happened out of her. Riven was unsure of what to think, but a small – minuscule, almost non-existent – part of him was concerned about what had her so out of sorts. He'd seen her irritated before – usually at him – and he'd seen her upset – once at Jared, once about her mother – but this was new. He didn't ask about it – he'd want his space if he were running at her emotional level and so he gave others that by default; besides, he didn't like talking about feelings.

Judging by Wizgiz's lack of questioning, Riven had been right to not pester her. The Irishman would know her better than either of them and if he didn't ask, Riven assumed that was the right move. Every now and then on the ride home, Riven would glance back at the dark-haired girl in the rear view mirror. She spent the whole trip silently staring out the window with a concerningly blank expression on her face. None of them spoke; the tension and anger radiating off Musa was strong, and none of them dared be the one to interrupt it for fear that she'd snap at them.

She didn't speak when they got to the penthouse. Instead, she went right to her room where she started to gently strum at the guitar she kept by her bed. Riven made himself a late lunch, figuring that she'd come down when she was hungry. By dinner, she was still in her room, so he went up and knocked on her door insisting that she eat. She begrudgingly came downstairs and ate the whole heaping plate of pasta and vegetables he'd put in front of her – he was right, she was hungry. "You know, I should be charging you a premium for how much I'm having to take care of you."

She laughed.

It was more of a chuckle, but it was a positive reaction. He had no idea what had angered her so much, and he didn't ask, but he did know that she needed something positive. A small part of him swelled with pride knowing he'd been able to give it to her. Another small part of him bubbled with joy knowing that he could make her laugh, though he ignored that part. Her chuckle died down and, barely audible, but enough that he heard her, she said: "thanks."

He offered her a small smile and a nod, which she returned. This was the first moment of true peace they'd had in their near month together. It was nice. Truly nice.

(1) The name Ho-boe is just awful for so many reasons. I've renamed Musa's father Wei Sheng, taken from The Good Faith of Wei Sheng. It's the story of a man who waited under a bridge for his love, who never came, until he was drowned in the surging waters. William is his chosen "American name."