The front door hissed open, and before Dorian could even register it, Juno leaped into his arms, wrapping him in a hug with the unrestrained enthusiasm of a happy puppy.
"Ow, ow," Dorian grunted, patting her back. "Solar strength, Juno."
Juno immediately let go, a sheepish laugh escaping her. "Oh, sorry!"
Dorian led her inside. "Your father has not come back yet?" she asked, looking around the quiet apartment.
Dorian was already in the kitchen, pulling a pitcher from the cold box. "Oh, he still has two more months. The rotation is three months on, one week off, remember?" He poured a pale, amber liquid into a cup. The tea, a materialized item from his Stardew Valley Gacha, smelled incredible.
"Ahh, yeah..." Juno said, her attention now drawn to the cup in his hand.
"Here," Dorian said, handing it to her.
Juno's sharp senses picked up the aroma immediately. She looked at the cup in awe, the scent unlike any Teebu she had ever encountered. "What kind of Teebu is this?"
Dorian masterfully hid the fact that it was from his game. "Got lucky in the market recently. Go on, try it."
She took a small, tentative sip. Her eyes widened in shock. "Oh god, Dorian," she breathed. "The sweetness is so good. The Teebu flavor is enhanced, too, not overwhelming."
A proud smile spread across Dorian's face. "Right? It is gold star quality sugar, after all."
"It is more than that," she insisted, taking another, larger sip. "Even my father does not drink this kind of tea. It feels... natural." She continued to sip, completely captivated. Before she knew it, the cup was empty. She looked down at it, then back at Dorian, a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.
"Sorry, Dorian," she said quickly. "I did not mean to just drink all of your rare stuff like that. I should pay you for it."
"Hey, what do you take me for?" he said with a laugh. "I have still got a bunch."
Juno was once again shocked by Dorian's sudden, inexplicable access to a wealth of luxury Teebu. She looked at her empty cup, then back at him, her expression sheepish. "Can I... get another one, then?"
Dorian laughed, a full, happy sound. "Hahaha, sure. But do not forget about today's plan. You have to work for it."
Juno snapped to attention, giving him a crisp, mock-Solar salute. "Yes, sir! I am ready to be your backing vocals again!"
As Dorian turned to pour another cup, a warm, genuine smile on his face, he said, "Oh no, no, my beautiful friend. I need you to be singing lead on this one."
He turned back and offered her the refilled cup. He saw her face. Her ears and neck were a bright, blushing red.
And then, he realized what he had just said. His internal overthinker, the self-sabotaging voice in his head, immediately took over.
'It was too sudden, you idiot.'
'"My beautiful friend?" What is this, a historical drama?'
'Stop saying cringe things.'
'Too fast. Way too fast.'
'Now you have ruined it.'
'You made it weird.'
'Congrats, you have successfully lost your only friend.'
'Can you just shut your mouth for five seconds and go on?'
Juno took the cup, her movements a little stiff. "Sure," she said, her voice quiet. "Friends. Let's record, shall we?" She turned and walked rigidly towards his room.
Dorian, still mentally overloaded from his own catastrophic slip-up, stood frozen for a moment. Then he, too, followed Juno to his own room, his own movements equally and unnaturally rigid. If Leo had been there, the Compadre would have wondered how, and why, two perfectly healthy humans had suddenly started acting like poorly programmed droids.
Juno was already sitting on the edge of Dorian's bed, the earlier awkwardness still hanging thick in the air. She tried to break the silence. "So, about the last song you sang for me," she began, her voice a little too bright. "Have you uploaded it yet?"
Dorian, who had been stiffly arranging his recording setup, was taken aback by the change of subject. "Oh, yeah, about that. I have not told you, but I already uploaded it. Several months ago, actually."
Juno shot up from the bed. "What? When? I have been searching your name on Stellarcast and nothing ever came out!"
"Oh, that is because I used this name," he said, pulling up his channel on his main monitor.
Percival
-
220k Subscribers
-
5 Million Views
Juno's jaw dropped. She looked at the numbers, then back at Dorian, then back at the screen. Then, she walked over and slapped his arm, hard. "You did not tell me this!"
"Oww," he said, rubbing the spot. "Hehe, sorry. I just got caught up with everything, I forgot."
Juno leaned closer to the screen, her earlier embarrassment forgotten, replaced by a fierce, protective curiosity. She scrolled through the comments. She saw the ones demanding a face reveal, the ones betting that he was handsome. She also saw the haters, the trolls leaving cruel, dismissive remarks. But she also saw Dorian, just smiling proudly, and she decided she could ignore the haters for now, too.
She turned to him, a new thought occurring to her. "So, you were saying I am not doing backing vocals this time?"
"Oh, yeah, about that," he said, a new energy in his voice. He sat in his chair and slid over to the producer's desk. As he began to set up a new project, he explained, "So, I was listening to your 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the last session so much that I realized something. Your voice, it does not need that much tweaking. It is naturally clear and on-key. So, I thought I would try to produce a song for you to sing."
Juno crossed her arms, a playful, skeptical look on her face. "Wow, Mr. Producer got a lot of confidence after just one song."
Dorian laughed. "Hehe, but believe me, I have had this song with your voice in mind. Come here, listen to the demo."
Juno walked closer.
"Please do mind," he added quickly, "my voice cannot go that high, so my demo is not that good."
She chuckled, the last of the awkwardness melting away. "Do not worry. It will be our little secret. My 'Juniverse' will not know about it."
Dorian's head snapped up. "Juniverse? You are already locking down your fanbase name?"
Juno's grin was triumphant. "Better than 'Percival'."
"Hey, it is a good name!"
She sat down on the stool beside him, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Oh yeah? What if someone makes a typo and mixes up your name, and it ends up being... 'Perv-ical'?"
Dorian's face went completely, utterly blank, the horrifying realization dawning on him in real time.
Juno just laughed, a full, unrestrained sound, and slapped his arm again. "Stop making that stupid face!"
They both let out an easy, shared laugh, the last of the awkwardness dissolving between them. Dorian clicked open a folder on his main monitor, and several project files appeared, each with a simple, evocative name: Snowman, Flowers, Fire On Fire, and others. His cursor hovered for a moment before landing on one in particular. He clicked on Skyfall.
He handed Juno a pair of high-fidelity studio headphones. "Should we do the instrumental first, so you can feel the vibe?"
Juno put on the headphones, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Sure. So I do not ruin my first impression with your false high note."
"Ugh, Juno," Dorian groaned, clutching his chest in mock pain. "You wound your producer."
They both laughed again. Then, Dorian pressed play.
The first five seconds hit Juno with a sense of pure gravitas and intent. A simple, two-chord piano motif began the piece, dark, cyclical, and heavy with unspoken meaning. It was not a happy song. It was not a sad song. It was a song that held the weight of a world.
Then, the strings began their slow, mournful ascent. The feeling solidified. This was not a usual accord trendy song; it was a score. Her mind, unbidden, began to paint a cinematic landscape. She saw rain on ancient cobblestones. Long, dark shadows stretching across the floor of an old, empty building.
The music built, layer by layer, and the images in her mind grew more specific, more personal. She saw the tragic end of a Solar, their light extinguishing in a final, lonely burst of energy in the cold black of space. She saw the picture she had always carried in her head from when she was little: the sight of her father's back as he put on his uniform, a silent, powerful figure preparing to go off to a battle he might not return from. The music was the sound of that burden, the weight of being a Solar, of standing as a shield for the galaxy, even if it cost you everything.
The piece continued to swell, the orchestra growing, the drums kicking in with a steady, relentless rhythm. It was a story. A story of duty, of sacrifice, and of standing tall as everything you knew began to crumble around you. It was the anthem of a lone hero facing the end, not with fear, but with a quiet, resolute acceptance.
Then, just as the music reached its epic, soaring peak, it stopped. The final chord faded into a profound, ringing silence.
Juno just sat there, the headphones still on, her eyes staring at a point in the distance, lost in the world the music had created.
Dorian watched her, a small, knowing smile on his face. He let the silence hang for a moment before speaking softly. "So, how was it?"
Juno slowly took off the headphones, her expression one of dazed, emotional awe. She looked at him, her violet eyes wide with a dozen unasked questions.
"Where," she whispered, her voice a little shaky, "do I even start?"
"Listen to my guide first," Dorian said, his focus now entirely on the music. He tapped his wristband against hers. "There. I gave you the lyrics. Try to hum or sing along quietly."
Juno's wristband chimed, and a hologram of the lyrics popped up. She pressed play. The same powerful intro filled her headphones, and then Dorian's guide vocal came in. It was reedy, strained on the high notes just as he had warned, but the intention was clear. She listened with a serious, focused intensity, her eyes tracing the words, absorbing the raw emotion woven into every line.
When it was done, Dorian swiveled in his chair, all business now. "Okay, so the verses are all about control," he began, his tone shifting from friend to producer. "They're low and smoky. You need to sing them with a full chest voice, but hold back. Each line has to be one long, sustained breath to build the tension. If you run out of air, the whole mood collapses."
"Got it," Juno said, taking a deep, centering breath. She sang the first few lines, her voice smoky and full, holding the notes with a steady, unwavering power that seemed to come from her very core.
Dorian was shocked. "What? How? Last time, I am sure you were already losing your breath around that point."
A smug, triumphant smile spread across Juno's face. "I am a Solar, remember?" she said, flexing a bicep. "I have been training at my dad's guild. I have been screaming my lungs out while getting beaten up by the instructors. So do not worry about me, Mr. Producer. I can take the singing."
Dorian stared at her for a second, then a slow, impressed grin grew on his face. He pointed to a section of the holographic lyrics. "Okay, then. The chorus leap on 'Skyfall'. This is the iconic moment of the song, and it's a beast. It's a huge melodic jump, and you have to hit it with power. No cracking."
"Right," she said, her focus absolute. She tried it a few times. The first attempt was a little shaky, but she was a fast learner.
The morning sun angled through the crack of higher level district, dust motes dancing in the beams of light as they worked. Hours bled into one another. They were lost in a world of repeated phrases and minor adjustments. Finally, Juno was ready to attempt a full take of the chorus.
She nailed the leap on "Sky-fall," her voice soaring with a power that gave Dorian goosebumps. But as she moved to the next line, the sustained note on "stand tall," her voice wavered. It became strained, losing its resonant quality and turning into a shout.
"Stop, stop," Dorian said gently, pausing the music. "Easy. You're mistaking volume for power." He looked her in the eye. "Shouting is not singing. You have to maintain that note with a full, resonant tone, not just push air through your throat. Support it from here," he said, gesturing to his diaphragm.
They worked on it, again and again. By the time the afternoon light began to fade, she had mastered it.
They worked until the perpetual twilight of the lower levels was indistinguishable from true night outside Dorian's window. Finally, he had it. A full, powerful, perfectly recorded vocal track. Juno had given it her all, her voice somehow able to shift from the smoky, quiet intimacy of the verses to the full-throated, epic power of the chorus, and then back again, seamlessly. Her Solar training, it seemed, had helped her in more ways than one.
But unbeknownst to Dorian, there was another reason. Juno had been secretly taking professional singing lessons ever since the day he had first asked her to be his backing vocals. But she would not tell him that. That was her own little secret.
**A/N**
~Read Advance Chapter and Support me on [email protected]/SmilinKujo~
~🧣KujoW
**A/N**