North Star

45 | in the silence

2019

I wound up stopping by the studio toward the end of their session.

When I awoke that morning, I walked to a coffee shop next door to our hotel to eat breakfast by myself since Nikau had already left to meet Maverick at the studio. They had the entire day blocked out to work on the song together, though none of us expected it to take that long. If I knew Nikau, he would be happy to take advantage of the extra time to pick Maverick's brain, maybe try to rope him into recording something else. And Maverick? He was nice enough to indulge him. Hell, if dinner the other night was any indication, the one where they couldn't stop talking about the music they listened to growing up and their favorite movie soundtracks—Maverick had a thing for Purple Rain—I wasn't sure he needed much convincing.

It was even more relaxing than I had anticipated it to be. People watching at home could be fun, but there was a distinct lack of surprise with it. Even if I had no idea who the people were around me, they held a certain familiarity with them because of the similar way they moved through life, particularly those who were also born and raised on the island. Chicago was different in the best way possible, full of people I had never come across before in my life, and, if it weren't for Nikau, would likely never have. Everywhere I looked was a new face, and part of me wished I had better social skills so I could approach some of them and ask them questions about their lives. But they weren't just characters in a book that I had the privilege to dissect to my heart's content, so that made it easier to feel less sorry for myself as I sat back like the wallflower I was, staring at the rest of the world as it swirled past.

"You want a refill?" Someone asked me at some point. I hadn't paid attention to their face, instead focusing on the way steam rose from the coffee pot they carried in their left hand. It had an ornate, golden design wrapped around it like a charm bracelet. "Fresh pot."

"No thank—" I started before stopping. They raised a brow at my prolonged pause. "On second thought, that sounds good. Thank you."

"First time?" they asked with the confidence of someone who sniffed me out as a visitor the second I stepped foot inside the shop. "You picked a good time to visit," they continued after I confirmed my outsider status. "It's not as cold as it usually is. Or, at least, that's what I'm being told."

"Really?" I tugged my coat tighter around my waist. Even sitting inside and drinking a near-scalding cup of coffee did nothing to warm me up enough to even think about taking it off. "Could've fooled me."

"Where from?"

"Hawai'i." I guess some people lived in a place that didn't quite elicit the same sort of dazed look in their eyes whenever they mentioned where they were from. Even though life in Hawai'i was never as simple as living in this make-believe stage of paradise everyone else made it out to be, I couldn't lie and say I didn't like the way people seemed to admire it.

"Surprised you're only wearing one coat."

"Oh, trust me." I laughed. "I definitely tried to put on more but my... friend convinced me not to."

"Friend," they repeated. By the look on their face, it was noted I was sitting there alone. "And where is this friend?"

"A little preoccupied for the day. I'll see him later, though."

They tsked. "Better be for a good reason."

And it was. When I walked over to the studio later on in the day after wandering around the city, traveling a few stops on the L train, and sitting thoughtfully on the bench of a museum, as one did while they traveled, my timing couldn't have been more perfect. Nikau was in the middle of recording something while Maverick sat behind the desk, nodding along to the music. I hadn't spent enough time with him to decipher what his expressions meant, but if I had to guess, I would say the day had been going well. It could have only been positive by the way Nikau sounded.