I adjust my desk chair and pull my laptop closer, fingers hovering over the keyboard as I scan the lines of code I was working on last.My inbox is manageable, my task list is light.I could get a solid head start on the week if I really buckle down.
I crack my knuckles, then start typing, sinking into the logic, the numbers, the structure.
This is good.
This makes sense.
Unlike JoelfreakingPrice.
Unlike his stupid song.
Unlike the way his fingers brushed against mine, slow and unhurried, like he wastestingme.
My typing falters.
I grit my teeth, delete the last string of nonsense I just wrote, and refocus.
This is no big deal.
Everything is under control.
I pull in a deep breath and keep coding, my eyes scanning for errors, my brain shifting back into work mode.
One line at a time.One function at a time.
I settle into the rhythm of it, into the comfort of something logical, structured,safe.
And then?—
I realize I’m humming.
I freeze.
My fingers hover motionless over the keyboard as my own voice hums the very melody IsworeI wasn’t going to think about.
My stomach plummets.
No.
No, no, no,no.
I clamp my mouth shut so fast, my teeth nearly click together.
I didnotjust do that.
I didnotjust humhissong.
The same song he’s playing live right now.
Heat prickles at the back of my neck, frustration twisting through my ribs.
I lean back in my chair, glaring at the ceiling.
It doesn’t mean anything.
It’s just a song.A song I improved, by the way.A song I fixed because Ihadto.
That’s all this is.