He heard the rhythmic click-clack of a keyboard. The silence on the other end felt like an eternity.
"Yes! Absolutely yes!" Leo fumbled for his credit card, reading the numbers off like he was transmitting a high-stakes secret code.
"I have two seats," Sarah said, her voice calm and steady. "Section A, Row 3. They were just released from a timed-out cart. Do you want them?"
The old kitchen radio hummed in the background, but Leo couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own racing heart. On his laptop screen, the spinning loading icon was mocking him. He had been in the digital queue for three hours, trying to snag front-row seats for the reunion tour—the only band his daughter, Maya, ever talked about.
When he finally hung up, he didn't say a word. He just turned the phone screen toward Maya, showing the confirmation text that had just vibrated into his inbox.
Leo’s words tumbled out in a rush. "Front row, Midnight Echoes, Sydney show. Please tell me you have something."