Flora, Max, Ian, and Jeff found themselves gathered in the small, cluttered living room of Flora's Dublin flat one rainy evening. The apartment had the warm, lived-in feeling of a place that had seen its fair share of ups and downs. Guitar cases were leaned against the wall, and scattered music sheets covered the table, a testament to their ongoing journey into the world of music.

It had been months since Flora had first picked up that beaten-up guitar, and in that time, her life—and the lives of the people around her—had changed in ways she couldn't have imagined. She had found a sense of purpose in music, a way to connect with her son Max, and, surprisingly, a way to connect with Ian and Jeff, two men who had shaped her life in very different ways.

The lyrics of Taylor Swift's "cardigan" played in her head as she strummed her guitar absently, thinking about how everything had changed. "And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite..." It reminded her of how lost she had felt before finding this sense of belonging through music. But now, as she looked at the people around her, she realized that maybe she wasn't so lost anymore.

"Mom, you're spacing out again," Max said, breaking the silence as he sat across from her, arms crossed but with a smirk on his face.

Flora snapped out of her reverie, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry, love. Just thinking."

"Thinking about what?" Ian, her ex-husband, asked as he lounged on the couch, guitar in hand. There was a softness to his voice that hadn't been there when they were together, a sign that their relationship had evolved into something more amicable, more comfortable.

Flora glanced around the room, at Max with his ever-present sarcasm, at Ian with his newfound calm, and at Jeff, her online guitar teacher who had flown over from LA to meet them all in person. She still couldn't believe he had made the trip. It felt surreal, like a dream she didn't want to wake up from.

"I was just thinking about how far we've come," Flora said, strumming a few chords. "You know, it's crazy. A year ago, I wouldn't have pictured this. The four of us, sitting here, making music together."

Jeff, always the optimist, flashed a grin. "Life's full of surprises, isn't it? One minute you're teaching guitar online, the next you're jamming in Dublin with people you've never even met in person."

Ian chuckled, adjusting his guitar. "You got that right. I didn't think I'd ever be doing this again, let alone with Flora and Max."

Max rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of affection in his voice. "Yeah, well, who knew you two would actually get along for once?"

Flora laughed, shaking her head. "Don't get used to it, Max. We're still your parents—we're allowed to argue."

Max smirked. "Good to know some things never change."

They all shared a laugh, the room filling with an easy warmth. It was moments like these that made Flora feel like everything was going to be okay. Music had brought them together, but it was more than that. It was the way they had all learned to understand each other, to forgive, and to let go of the past.

"So," Jeff said, picking up his own guitar and settling in. "Are we gonna play, or are we just gonna sit around talking about how great we all are?"

Flora raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who's always going on about the power of music and connection. I thought you'd appreciate the moment."

Jeff laughed, strumming a chord. "Oh, I do. But I also appreciate a good jam session."

Max grabbed his guitar and sat up straighter. "I've been working on this riff. It's kind of moody, but I think it could be cool if we work it into something."

Flora nodded, intrigued. "Let's hear it, then."

Max began to play, the haunting melody filling the room. It was simple, but there was something raw and emotional about it, something that spoke to all of them. Flora joined in, adding a softer rhythm beneath Max's riff, while Ian and Jeff layered their own sounds on top. The music grew, filling the space between them, connecting them in a way that words couldn't.

As they played, Flora's mind drifted back to those lyrics again: "You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding..." It made her think about how much had changed since her marriage with Ian had ended. She had carried so many scars from that relationship, but somehow, through music, she had found a way to heal. And even though those scars would always be a part of her, they didn't define her anymore.

The song they were creating was reflective, almost melancholy, but there was an underlying sense of hope. It reminded Flora of how, despite everything, they had all found their way back to each other—through music, through forgiveness, through understanding.

When the last note faded into the air, there was a moment of silence as they all sat there, letting the music linger.

"That was... good," Max said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"Yeah," Flora agreed, glancing around at the others. "It was."

Jeff looked at each of them, a satisfied smile on his face. "That's the thing about music—it brings people together in ways you don't expect."

Ian, who had been quiet for most of the session, spoke up, his voice thoughtful. "It's funny. I used to think that once something was broken, it was broken forever. But sitting here with all of you, playing this... maybe things can be fixed. Maybe things don't have to stay broken."

Flora met his eyes, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. "I think you're right. I didn't believe that for a long time either. But look at us now."

Max, always quick with a sarcastic remark, couldn't resist. "Wow, this is getting deep. Should I start recording this for a future therapy session?"

Everyone laughed, and the mood lightened again. But underneath the jokes, there was a sense of understanding. They had all been through their own struggles, their own moments of doubt and pain. But they were here, together, creating something beautiful.


Later that night, after Max had gone to bed and Ian had left, Flora and Jeff sat on the balcony, the cool night air wrapping around them. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and the sounds of Dublin at night filled the silence between them.

"I never thought I'd be here," Flora said quietly, staring out at the view.

Jeff raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Here as in...?"

"As in this place in my life," Flora clarified. "A year ago, I felt like I was just drifting. I didn't know what I was doing. And now, I've got Max, I've got music, and I've got... you."

Jeff's smile was soft, and he didn't say anything for a moment. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "You've come a long way, Flora. You should be proud of yourself."

Flora chuckled, shaking her head. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Jeff shrugged, but his eyes were warm. "I think you would've figured it out on your own. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the day settling over them. Flora felt a sense of peace, a quiet contentment that she hadn't felt in a long time. She didn't know what the future held, but for the first time in a while, she wasn't scared of it.

"You know," Jeff said, breaking the silence, "you're like that old cardigan from the song. The one someone throws away and forgets about, but eventually, they realize it's their favorite."

Flora laughed, the sound soft and genuine. "Are you calling me an old cardigan?"

Jeff grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm calling you something that's always been special, even when you didn't see it."

Flora smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Well, then. I guess I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," Jeff said, leaning back in his chair, a content look on his face. "You've always been special, Flora. You just needed to find it for yourself."

As they sat there, watching the city lights flicker in the distance, Flora realized that Jeff was right. She had spent so long feeling like she wasn't enough, like she had been forgotten. But now, she knew better. She was enough, just as she was.

And maybe, just maybe, she was someone's favorite after all.