"The remix isn't just for the club," Wen admitted, the words finally breaking through. "It was the only way I knew how to say I was sorry without losing the beat."

"Not the sound," she countered, turning to face him. Her eyes were tired but piercing. "The confession. We call it a remix, but we’re still hiding behind the filters. The fans know the lyrics are about us, but they don’t know why we stopped talking for six months."

Re My smiled, a small, sharp thing. She hit the record button one last time. "Then let’s put the apology in the bridge."

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