Chris is the last person besides me in the recording studio. Everyone else has left to he's home for the night.

"That was incredible, Chris," I say, my voice filled with emotion I am trying to deflect.

He nervously fiddles with his guitar strings. I had heard his songs in the recording studio hundreds of times before but there was something different about the song they just played. He drew inspiration from something more serious than he used to.

"What inspired you to write such a heart-wrenching song?" I ask when he remains silent.

"You,"

My heart skips a beat. "Me? What do you mean?"

"I wrote that song about you, Ciara," Chris says, his eyes locked on mine. "You've been such a huge part of my life, and I wanted to capture all of the emotions that I feel when I'm not around you. Or when you look through me like I don't exist."

My cheeks flush with warmth. "That's so sweet," I say, my voice barely over a whisper. These pregnancy hormones are hitting me like a bus right now. "I had no idea how hard it has been for you." I play with my fingers on my lap, sitting across from him in the booth. "It was hard for me too."

"I know, and I never meant to hurt you, really. You are my soulmate." He reaches out and takes my hand, his fingers lacing with mine. He grips them in a way that forces me to stop my nervous fumbling. "I needed to write something that expressed how much you mean to me," he says. "And how much I care about you."

I pull my hand away from his. "I'm sorry, I need some air." I grab the handle and pull.

And again. I pull but the door does nothing.

I shake off the embarrassment and push the door. Still, it does not budge.

"I-is there a trick to these doors or something?"

"Oh, let me help you." He stands. I love out of the way for him to open the door. He stares at the door, wrestling with the silver knob as it moves but we are still stuck inside. "Shit,"

"What?" I ask. "What is it?"

"It's locked." He replies, stepping away from the door and examining it as if to find another way to open it.

"How could this happen?" I ask myself out loud, pacing back and forth across the room, dodging instruments and music stands.

Chris tries the door again, but it still won't budge. "I don't know," he sighs, his voice filling with frustration. "You must have accidentally hit the lock or something when you came in,"

"Oh god, I did this?!" I try to stay calm but can't help the feeling of anxiety creeping up on me.

"It could have been anyone, really." Chris continues trying to jimmy the door open. "Regardless, we are going to be stuck here for a while."

"No, it's okay. I'll just call my dad. He will come let us out." I pull out my phone and start dialing.

"No, no." He leans his head against the door. "There's no cell service in here. It messes with the equipment or something." Chris slumps down against the wall, giving up on the door. He runs a hand through his hair. "What are we going to do?" he mutters. "We can't stay in here all night."

I sit down next to him, trying to keep my own fear in check. "We have to find a way out," I say, my voice shaking. I have never felt so claustrophobic and anxious before in my life.

"We are going to have to wait until someone realizes we are missing."

"How has no one realized it yet? It's been hours!" I ask out loud.

Chris looks at his phone. "Ciara, it's been fifteen."

"Hours?!" I reply, stressed.

"Minutes."