“There we go!” Dema said, pushing away the curtains.

Theora let her gaze wander over the aluminium shelves filled with cables, speakers, boxes and more. It was part of an abandoned building on the far side of town, and this room stood out at the end of murky, trash-littered hallways with broken windows.

Dema carelessly rolled across cables and paper on her skates, put her bass into a stand, and plopped down on a half-decayed but recently cleaned couch on the other side of the room. “Gotta wait for Zappie now… She’ll be angry with me if I set up stuff myself.”

“Zappie?”

“Our drummer!”

“Why would she be angry?”

Dema waved off. “Says I’m bad at this and am gonna zap myself one day. Which, like, no! Am not! I do it when I play alone and it goes just fine… But anyway, if she notices I set things up here she’ll look at me all silent with disappointment and all.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Theora agreed, and diligently took off her rollerblades and tapped across the flooring boards. As she got closer, she noticed how deeply Dema was sinking into the couch. Perhaps Dema would still have set things up, regardless of Zappie’s thoughts, but she seemed so exhausted right now that it may have not been a realistic option. Theora sat down next to her and held out her hands in an offer; Dema understood quickly and lifted her legs so Theora could place them on her lap, to help the blood flow back into that little body of hers.

“So, what is Zappie like?” Theora tried — mainly to distract herself from the soft hums Dema was letting out from having her calves massaged.

“Ah.” Dema opened her eyes, tilting her head. After a pause, she said, “She really likes helping other people out. That’s like, her thing? Mostly in illegal ways, though. Hooking people up to the electrical grid after they were shut off, for example. Helping them get to places. Things like that.”

An electrician who was recently invited into a band and liked helping people out with illegal means? Why did that sound so familiar?

Before Theora could fully form the thought, steps resounded from the hallway outside. Dema poked Theora’s belly to get her attention, and then pointed towards one of the windows. “If that’s not Zappie, you’re gonna have to fetch me and bounce. Sometimes the owner comes to check if people are inside.”

They were on the outskirts of their hometown; Theora was fairly sure that whoever might walk through this building to check for intruders would recognise her immediately, making it somewhat moot to attempt an escape. But when the person finally entered the room and pushed the curtains aside just like Dema had before, Theora realised there would be no need for an escape either way.

“Zappie!”

“Girl, I told you. It’s zap-pie.” Then, Serim’s gaze fell on Theora, and the room fell into silence.

For a moment, the only thing moving was the curtain behind Serim’s back, pushed back and forth by a soft breeze. The air was stale from the dust they’d thrown up on entry. Faint industrial noises hit the windows from far away. Serim stared at Theora in confusion, and Theora stared back in growing horror. She had not responded to any of her recent messages.

Then, understanding seemed to dawn on Serim’s face, and she finally showed a graceful smirk, letting Theora breathe out and giving her a chance to remove her suddenly clammy fingers from Dema’s calves.

“So that’s what you’ve been busy with,” Serim said, raising one of her eyebrows. “Explains a lot, actually. I almost feel bad for intruding, but I was invited, so…”

Theora could feel Dema’s gaze flicking over. “What’s happening?” Dema asked, confused. “Wait — are you exes?”

Theora regretted taking her hands off Dema’s legs to send that misguided message — she’d done it because her phone was probably featuring a dozen unread messages from Serim by now, and for no other reason. That anonymous person had kept trying to reach out, and it made Theora feel so bad that she’d been avoiding her phone. Dema’s enthralling presence had made that all the more easy.

“I’m sorry,” Theora pressed out. “Please forgive me.”

Serim snorted. “Look, it’s fine. I knew you were probably either busy or heartbroken, and I figured you’d reach out whenever you wanted. You know that, right? You can reach out whenever.” As she was talking, her eyes flicked between the two, and then she blinked with another realisation. “Wait, the two of you kissed right after meeting? Damn, how did you manage? I always thought the maximum amount of useless lesbians possible in a quick-paced relationship was one.”

Theora blushed. She’d managed to kiss Dema during their very first date. Not so useless now, was she? Perhaps all it had ever taken was a tremendous cutie who dared her to do it.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Wait!” Dema suddenly let out, as if the realisation was hitting her finally too. “You two know each other?”

“Yep,” Serim said, wordlessly picking up Dema’s bass and plugging it into the devices and boxes. “Childhood friends, actually. Or siblings, depending on how you look at it. My foster parents took Theora in for a few years when we were young.”

“Siblings,” Dema breathed in awe, her eyes flicking between the two, and then she smiled. “Damn, I’m jealous! I wanted a childhood friend too! My foster parents had no other kids…”

“Poor girl,” Serim said, shrugging. “At least you have us now.”

Dema gave a warm nod. “Guess I do.” Her legs shifted a bit more into Theora’s lap. “Why, that’s nice. Didn’t know my two favourite people were siblings.”

Stunned by the inclusion of Dema’s favourite two people, Theora’s brain froze for a moment until the words fully parsed, and realisation finally hit her. She looked between Dema and Serim. “Wait. You two know each other, too.”

Serim nodded patiently. “Online friends mostly, yeah. Dema wasn’t allowed to leave home much as a teenager, and then she was stuck in the—” Her eyes darted over to Dema. “Well, she spent a long time in isolation, is what I’m saying. We got to know each other on a local queer chatting group.”

Dema nodded. “Which I found through a trans group. Foster parents couldn’t not let me have a phone.”

Theora looked at Dema. “You’re trans?”

Dema shrugged. “Kinda? I was born without a gender and had to, like, pick one.”

“The fact that you were made to feel like you had to choose one at all is a crime by itself,” Serim deadpanned.

Dema nodded. “Not unhappy with how I ended up but… yeah.”

“After a while in that group,” Serim went on, “we realised we were both listening to rock, even playing it ourselves, so we sent samples to each other and ended up talking a lot.”

Getting to know people online sounded like total magic. Theora had no idea how she would even attempt to go about it. But Theora knew a lot of people too, and they all lived in the same town, so why…

“You alright?” Dema asked, squeezing her hand.

Theora noticed she’d tensed up a bit only when Dema touched her. “I… Yes. I am alright. This is a lot at once. Not in a bad way, just in a…”

“In an ‘a lot’ way?” Dema spoke this as if it was one word, and she noticed that once she’d finished, muttering ‘inanalot’ a few times under her breath, looking both slightly befuddled and amused at once.

Hearing that word several times somehow managed to distract Theora and calm her down a little. Serim knew a lot of people; her also knowing Dema wasn’t far-fetched. Theora herself knew many people as well, mainly through her work, although it was less of a knowing and more being distantly acquainted. Still… if Dema and Serim had known each other for years, then with Theora and Serim being together since childhood, should they not perhaps have met before? Perhaps not met; but at least heard of each other?

Dema’s hand was still reaching out, and Theora gently tugged a finger around Dema’s matching crimson bracelet. They’d met through their bracelets. Dema had chased the glow, and ended up at the well. They’d met because the bracelets kept leading them closer to each other; a function they had managed to turn off since, as it could be distracting, but they hadn’t taken off these bracelets. Somehow, they seemed necessary.

And… the only reason why Theora had started wearing hers again was because of that dream. That long dream, reminding her of that forgotten time in another world.

In other words… that dream of a time where they had known each other had caused them to meet again here. They had been in such a close orbit for so long, and yet never seen each other before. An awkward feeling nested itself in Theora’s belly. Was it that they couldn’t have met before she’d had that dream?

“I think she’ll be back when she sorts out her thoughts…” Serim’s voice rang out, barely managing to scrape Theora’s consciousness.

Either way — the good news was that they had finally managed to meet now. And it was at this moment that the realisation finally hit — Theora’s two favourite people of this world were in this room right now with her too, ready to spend time together, even — to make music. That thought made her attention snap back to the others, and she found herself smiling so much it threatened to hurt, then found Dema watching her, enraptured. A glance over to Serim revealed her biting down on a smirk.

“I spaced out,” Theora said.

“Oh yeah, you so did!” Dema said, laughing. “For like, two hundred years.”

“Seems like you’re having fun at least,” Serim added. “So, I don’t have to be worried about you playing rock? Wouldn’t have thought that’s your style, so I’m making sure. Isn’t your favourite instrument the piano?”

By reflex, Theora looked at Dema. Her favourite instrument might be switching to bass.

“Really?” Dema asked. “You like the piano?”

Theora nodded. “It’s… pretty. I really like calm and… serene songs. Someone singing to a piano. Harps, too. Things like that.” But then she bit the inside of her cheek, hastily adding: “But I like other types of music, too! I’m just saying—”

“One can love more than one thing, right?” Dema went and nodded. “You said that before, I think.”

Had she? Still, Theora nodded. Then, she looked over to Serim, smiling. “You shouldn’t be surprised I’m joining. After all, most of the music I listen to is what you send me.”

“Honestly I kind of figured you just ignored most of those links.”

Theora shook her head. “No way. I… can get bad about answering messages. But I would never not listen to what you send me.”

“Well, that makes me kind of happy,” Serim said, blushing a bit, which was a rare sight so Theora savoured it. “Either way, I finished setting up. Let’s tune your instruments?”

Dema was already getting up before Theora could even say, “Yes.”