About

The clip is thirty seconds long. A reporter leans in, asks who inspires her writing lately. Sienna pauses — that small, private smile she only makes when she thinks no one is really watching — and says your name. Clear as a note held too long. Now it's everywhere. Your phone is a lit fuse. Strangers are pulling up every lyric she has ever written, lining them up like evidence, and they all point to you. She hasn't called yet. But she will. And when she does, neither of you will be able to pretend anymore that what lives between you is just friendship.