Ghost Notes-Chapter 107: The Pulse of Always
Chapter 107 - The Pulse of Always
Chapter 107: The Pulse of Always
Kael sat on a worn blanket spread across a grassy hill overlooking Dawnridge, the late afternoon sun dipping low, painting the sky in hues of amber and rose, the air rich with the scent of clover and distant barbecue smoke. His guitar case lay beside him, the leather strap's stars catching the fading light, a tether to his mom's pride. The Hearth's embers still glowed—Shatterpoint at eighty-seven thousand listens, Flicker nearing seventy-six thousand, Echo of Forever gaining ground alongside Flame of Tomorrow with The Hearth stream at ninety thousand views—but the tour was behind them, its fire now fueling their studio album. Their love—named and radiant—pulsed like a shared heartbeat, with Mira's parents sending a video message of support, their pride a steady light, and Lex's studio sessions bringing their new tracks to life with raw intensity.
Mira sat beside him, her borrowed guitar resting on the blanket, her scarf tucked loosely around her neck. Her sketchpad lay open in her lap, a new drawing—a hill under twilight, two figures strumming guitars, fireflies circling their music. Her face was alight with quiet passion, the joy of her parents' unwavering support and the album's progress fueling her creativity. "We nailed Echo of Forever today, Kael," she said, her voice soft, sketching a firefly. "It's eternal, alive. My parents sent a video—they're cheering, said they're saving for our next show. They're all in." Her hand reached for his, fingers lacing tightly, their love glowing softly, grounding her.
Kael's chest warmed, her touch anchoring their shared flame. At twenty-one, he carried his father Elias's Blue Shift tape in his pocket, its chords a bridge from loss to love. He shifted closer, their shoulders brushing, his voice warm but fierce. "They're all in because you're unstoppable, Mira. Light of Creation, Echo of Forever—that's our always, our truth. This album's gonna pulse, together." Their love burned steady, a rhythm that felt like home. "What's next for our fire, love?"
Mira's breath was soft, her eyes sparkling with vision, her grin radiant. "Something alive," she said, her voice a vow, leaning closer. "I'm twenty, Kael, and I want this—our album, our love, our fire. Maybe a song about our heartbeat, the pulse that keeps us going." Her gaze held his, fireflies dancing in her eyes, the future a canvas for their shared light.
The hill shrank to their shared warmth, the city's hum—crickets, wind, a distant car horn—fading. Kael thought of Veyl's Broken Signal, its call to hold truth, and Juno's text from earlier: "Studio's your pulse. Make it beat." His mom's faith, Juno's hope, their love burned bright. "Mira," he said, his voice soft, "let's write that pulse—our love, our always. A song for our heartbeat."
Mira's laugh was soft, her eyes wet with joy. "I love you, always," she said, her hand tightening in his, their love a spark. She leaned in, kissing him softly, the touch a vow, their flame glowing brighter in the hill's quiet twilight.
They pulled out their notebook, flipping past Echo of Forever, and started a new song: Pulse of Always. Kael scribbled lyrics, his handwriting messy but sure:
"Feel the beat in our hearts, where the fire won't fade / In the pulse of our love, every promise is made..."
Mira hummed a melody, her voice tender but fierce, weaving with Kael's imagined chords. The song was raw, a promise of their journey, echoing Juno's Iron Vein and their shared pulse. In their minds, it was fireflies and twilight hills, a new Chapter of love.
Mira's phone buzzed—a text from Lex: "Forever's a masterpiece. Studio's open—your vibe. Tour meeting tomorrow?" She showed Kael, her grin fierce. "We'll keep writing," she said. "Pulse of Always, Flame of Tomorrow—we'll make it ours."
Kael nodded, Lex's trust a steady anchor. Another buzz—a SoundSphere comment on The Hearth stream: "You're our fire, our spark. Album soon?" Anonymous, maybe Veyl, maybe the city. He showed Mira, who laughed, adding a firefly to her sketch, its glow fierce.
"That's us," she said, her voice steady, her hand in his. "The pulse of always."
Kael's phone buzzed—a text from his mom: "Hearth was magic. You're my soul, Kael." The hill hummed—grass rustling, a faint chord lingering, a breeze carrying the city's pulse. Juno appeared at the hill's base, his leather jacket creased, his grin warm. "You rookies are making something eternal," he said, his voice gruff. "Pulse of Always—that's your heart. Keep it raw." His eyes lingered, his grin softening.
"We will," Kael said, Mira's hand steady. Mira nodded, her spirit soaring.
Juno clapped their shoulders, then left, his steps fading into the dusk. The hill stirred—wind whispering, a distant guitar riff, a star twinkling above. Mira stood, pulling Kael up, her grin defiant, her eyes warm. "Let's play," she said. "I need Dawnridge's twilight." They grabbed their guitars, chords ringing as they tested Pulse of Always, starlight painting the hill silver, a melody threading through the air.
Kael, twenty-one, thought of his dad's tape, its chords a bridge to resilience, and Mira, twenty, her victory over doubt a fire of her own. Their love, their music, their road stretched on. Mira's hand stayed in his, their love a steady pulse. "We're not just writing," she said, her voice soft but sure. "We're beating our always." Kael nodded, the tape and her touch heavy with meaning, Dawnridge's twilight carrying them forward, their love glowing in the pulse of always.
To be continued...
