The office buzzed with a low but steady rhythm that Monday morning. The walls of NOVA Entertainment glowed under the soft white lights, filled with the quiet tapping of keyboards, gentle conversation between departments, and the occasional laugh from the design team who always had the most dramatic reactions to everything.
Lyla sat in her corner of the creative suite, earbuds in, sketching out a few lines of lyrics she'd been toying with. Her desk was no longer just an empty workstation. It was hers again—half-covered in sticky notes, a half-eaten chocolate bar Rose had gifted her, a cup of unfinished tea, and a few photographs of instruments pinned to a softboard.
Though she was slowly returning to the spotlight, things were still gentle. No new albums. No stage performances. Just the light assignments Noah had approved through Evelyn—endorsements, brand meetings, music exploration sessions.
