Page 19 of Rhythm and Rapture

"Good. Send me their information by the end of the day and I will overnight all of the documentation needed. June is yours, Sabina. Make it memorable." She sets down her pen and looks at me with something that might be maternal pride if Lorna did maternal. "You've grown so much since you first walked in here. From a desperate grad student with a fire in her eyes to one of our most requested performers. I'm proud of you."

The unexpected sincerity makes my throat tight. "Thank you. For everything. For giving me a chance when I had no experience, for respecting my boundaries..."

"Stop, you'll make me ruin my reputation as a heartless bitch," she says, but she's smiling. "Now get out of here and go plan something spectacular. I want June to be the month everyone remembers."

As I leave her office, my mind is already racing through possibilities. A collaboration with Fractured Theory for National Sex Day, combining chemistry education with musical artistry, exploring the science of attraction while maintaining the mystery that makes The Hidden Chemist compelling.

I pass back through the warehouse, the familiar chaos taking on a different energy. For the first time since I started here, I'm not just thinking about next month's treatment costs or how many streams I need to cover Kael's medications. I'm thinking about creating something that actually excites me. Something that combines all the parts of myself I usually keep separated—the scientist, the performer, the woman who spent three hours flirting with musicians and remembered what it felt like to just be.

My phone buzzes again. This time it's a text from Kael's school:

Kael had a great day! He taught his classmates about chemical bonds during share time. The teacher said his explanation was 'remarkably sophisticated.' He used his snackcrackers to demonstrate molecular structures! See you at pickup!

I smile, tucking the phone away. My brilliant boy, already teaching others at five years old. Everything I do is for him, but maybe it's time to also do something for me. Maybe it's time to stop being scared of falling apart and start building something worth celebrating.

On that note, I pull out my phone and start typing a response to Roman:

The Hidden Chemist: How do you three feel about California? Specifically, how do you feel about being part of something that would make history? I need an address - I have some very official documentation to send you.

The response is almost immediate.

Roman: California? Documentation? This escalated quickly.

Ash: I KNEW IT. I TOLD YOU GUYS.

Felix: Ash has been packing since your first video. He's not even joking.

The Hidden Chemist: Smart man. You'll need those bags if you accept what I'm proposing. Address?

Roman: [Address attached] The fact that you're being mysterious about this is either very exciting or very concerning.

The Hidden Chemist: Both. Definitely both. Package ships out tonight. Read everything carefully. And boys? This is where that whole "expanding your definition of acceptable variables" thing becomes very, very relevant.

Ash: I'm vibrating at frequencies visible from space

Felix: We can confirm this

The Hidden Chemist: Good. Hold onto that energy. You're going to need it. Talk tomorrow when the documents arrive. Try not to overthink too much tonight.

Roman: Says the woman who just turned our world upside down with mysterious documentation

The Hidden Chemist: Your world's about to get a lot more interesting. Trust me.

I laugh out loud at their responses, earning curious looks from a few people in the lobby. Nova raises an eyebrow at me as I pass her desk.

"Good meeting?" she asks.

"The best," I reply. "June is going to be fucking incredible."

Chapter Eight

The bass lineFelix has been working on for the past hour is starting to sound like something, finally. Not quite there yet—the transition into the bridge still feels forced—but better than the garbage we've been producing all week.

"Try dropping to the fifth on the third beat," I suggest, scribbling notes in the margin of my notebook. "Then walk it back up."

Felix adjusts his fingering, and the progression smooths out. "Better. But it still needs?—"

The doorbell cuts him off.

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