Chapter 1- Before the Music Played

Shawn

Shawn Alcolt learned early that silence could be louder than any argument. At fifteen, he already knew the weight of unspoken words, of slammed doors and late-night tears muffled through thin bedroom walls. His father had walked out three years ago, and in the echo of that departure, Shawn stepped into shoes far too big for a boy still growing into himself.

Summit Academy was supposed to be his escape. The prestigious scholarship he earned wasn't just a ticket to a better education—it was hope. A way out. But even surrounded by polished halls and sons of doctors and lawyers, Shawn carried the rust of home with him.

He'd slip into the school's empty music room during breaks, fingers tracing the strings of a battered acoustic guitar like they were the only things that made sense. He found rhythm in chaos, beating out his frustrations on the drum set until his hands stung. Music didn't judge. It listened.

At home, his mother worked back-to-back shifts at a private hospital, coming home with tired eyes and a smile stretched thin for the sake of her children.

But beneath the weight of responsibility, there was still a boy who wanted more. Who wondered what it would feel like to chase something just for himself. Who longed to be seen—not just as someone dependable, but as someone worth choosing. Worth staying for.

He didn't talk about that version of himself, not even to his closest friends. Maybe because it felt too fragile, too foolish. Or maybe because he was afraid no one would listen

Amber

Across the city, Amber Dalton lived in a world of stability, structure, and sky-high expectations.

Xavier Academy gleamed with excellence, just like her family. Her eldest sister was a nurse in Canada. Her brother, an engineer climbing the ranks in Dubai. Her parents—an engineer and a seaman—had built a life of discipline, excellence, and ambition. Amber was expected to follow suit. Middle child or not, there was no room to drift.

But Amber had her own dreams, secret and shimmering. They came alive in stolen moments—in the way she poured herself into school projects, in her fascination with stories, in the hunger for something that felt like hers. She loved planning, organizing, and the idea of creating her own place in the world—not just as someone's daughter or sister, but as Amber.

She had a laugh that filled rooms, and a gaze that always seemed to look just beyond the now—as if searching for something more, something bigger. Still, her life was orderly. Predictable. She had friends, grades, goals.

Still, Amber had her own dreams—ones she kept tucked away, secret and shimmering. They came alive in stolen moments—in the way she poured herself into school projects that let her be creative, in her fascination with stories and the people who told them, in her hunger for something that felt like hers. Something she could build from scratch. 

She wasn't waiting for a boy to complete her—she didn't believe in that whole "other half" thing. Love wasn't a missing piece. But she was waiting for something. A spark. A sign. A sense of purpose that didn't come from someone else's checklist. She wanted a life that felt alive.

Neither of them knew it yet, but that music was about to play.

And it would begin on a night neither of them would forget—a concert that would change everything.