chapter twenty-six | redemption

MILA SAT CROSS-LEGGED on her couch, a half-empty mug of cold tea forgotten on the coffee table. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, the golden light spilling over the mess of notebooks and papers she hadn't bothered to clean up. She tugged at the edge of her sleeve absentmindedly, her mind restless despite the stillness around her.

The day had been unproductive, a blur of half-formed thoughts and spiraling doubt. No matter how hard she tried, her mind kept circling back to the same aching truth: the damage Tessa had done, the chaos Jordan had sown, and her own failure to protect the one thing that mattered most.

Her eyes drifted to her guitar resting in the corner, and for a moment, she considered picking it up but decided not to. Her gaze lingered, her thoughts pulling her into a memory she hadn't let herself revisit in weeks.

It was late. The kitchen was bathed in the soft glow of a single light above the stove, and the faint hum of a slow, dreamy song filled the room. Mila was leaning against the counter, strumming a few chords on her guitar, her bare feet tapping gently against the tiled floor. She had been struggling with a song, hoping this would fix her problem. It wasn't too long before she realized it sounded too similar to another song.

Gracie had been rummaging through the fridge, looking for a late-night snack, when the melody caught her attention. She closed the fridge door, a small smile playing on her lips. "What are you playing?" She softly asked as she turned around to see Mila erasing the chords she had written before.

"Today Was A Fairytale by Taylor Swift, somehow." She replied with a chuckle. She removed the guitar strap from around her shoulders. She then moved to the living room and leaned it against the couch, making her way back to her notebook.

Gracie tilted her head, flashing her a grin before walking over. "I love that song," She said softly, her voice warm and unguarded. "Play it again."

Mila obliged, connecting her phone to the Bluetooth speaker and playing the song. As the song played, Gracie stepped closer, her eyes sparkling with a playful light. "Dance with me," She said suddenly, holding out her hand.

Mila blinked at her, surprised. "What?"

"Dance with me," She repeated, her smile widening. "C'mon, Mila. Don't make me dance alone."

Mila let out a small laugh, soon taking Gracie's outstretched hand. "Fine, but you're leading. I don't want to trip over my own feet." She gave in with a grin.

Gracie laughed, pulling Mila into a gentle sway as the music continued to play. They moved slowly, their bare feet gliding over the cool tile as Gracie hummed along to the melody. "You know," Gracie said after a moment, her voice soft and thoughtful. "I don't think I tell you enough how amazing you are."

Mila furrowed her brow, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Gracie—"

"I mean it," Gracie interrupted gently, her gaze steady. "You're so...brave. And funny. And ridiculously talented."

Mila's heart ached at the sincerity in Gracie's voice, and she looked away, unable to hold her gaze. "I'm not any of those things," She muttered.

Gracie stopped moving, her hands resting lightly on Mila's hips. "Yes, you are," She said firmly. "And you don't get to argue with me about it. Not tonight."

Mila bit her lip, a small, bashful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Fine. Tonight, you win." She gave in.

Gracie grinned, pulling her back into the dance. "Good because I could do this all night."

From there, the two continued to sway to the music, the song in the background fading into something almost too perfect to describe. Mila dared a glance at Gracie, her breath catching at how effortlessly beautiful she looked in the soft kitchen light. She could stare at her for hours without getting bored for a second. She truly loved this woman more than anything, even if she didn't say it enough.

She hoped that Gracie knew that.

Gracie noticed Mila's lingering gaze and tilted her head slightly, her smile softening. "What?" She asked, her voice a quiet murmur.

"Nothing," Mila said, though her voice betrayed her.

Gracie's hands on her hips tightened just slightly, her thumbs brushing over the fabric of Mila's shirt. "You're a terrible liar," She whispered, her smile turning slightly mischievous before her expression grew serious. "Can I...?"

Mila barely had time to nod before Gracie leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Mila's. It was gentle, hesitant, and somehow electric all at once. Mila's hands slid from Gracie's shoulders to the back of her neck, holding onto her as if letting go would somehow shatter the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Gracie's forehead rested against Mila's, both of them smiling shyly. "Now I really don't want this night to end," Gracie said, her voice warm and teasing.

"Me neither," Mila replied softly, her heart hammering in her chest.

Back in the present, Mila let out a shaky breath, the memory leaving her chest tight and her eyes damp. Gracie's words and that kiss had felt like a lifeline then, and now, they gave her the courage she desperately needed.

She was going to rebuild what Tessa and Jordan had broken. What mattered right now, was her. Everything with Gracie would have to be fixed later. She would be going back to her roots. Her album was being released later this month, she had to advertise for it, get interviews, and do literally anything to get the ball rolling.

This was going to be her comeback.

Mila sat cross-legged on her couch, a half-empty cup of coffee sitting on the coffee table. The late morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting golden light over a mess of notebooks and papers she hadn't yet brought herself to organize. Her guitar rested in the corner, untouched for days, and the silence of the room pressed heavily against her chest.

It had been months since everything had unraveled. Months since she'd lost her footing, lost her way, and lost...Gracie.

But things had changed.

Her album had finally been released, and the response had been overwhelming. Critics praised its rawness and its vulnerability, and fans latched onto every lyric as if Mila had written their own stories. It was everything she had dreamed of and more, and yet, a part of her still felt incomplete.

The past few months had been a blur of interviews, acoustic sessions, and small venue tours. Mila had thrown herself herself into her work, using the chaos to drown out the lingering ache in her chest. And while the world saw her rising from the ashes, what they didn't see was the struggle, the nights spent staring at the ceiling, wondering if she'd ever feel whole again.

The mess of her personal life had left her raw and exposed, but it had also taught her something she hadn't expected: resilience. She'd found strength in places she didn't know existed and rebuilt herself piece by piece. She did all of that alone, and she was proud of herself.

She knew Gracie would have been proud of her too if she had known.

While she was rebuilding her reputation and fixing herself, she had kinda kept everyone, except her family, in the dark. Not even Adam or Audrey knew what she was doing.

Adam didn't get to know until the album was ready for release.

Mila sighed, her gaze drifting over the scattered papers on her coffee table. Song drafts, interview notes, and a few stray photos she'd unearthed while cleaning up her house earlier that week. One in particular caught her eye—a candid shot of her and Gracie from months ago. It was taken backstage during the tour, Gracie's arm slung around her shoulders, both of them mid-laugh. The memory tugged at her chest, a bittersweet ache settling in her ribs.

She reached for the photo, rubbing her thumb over the glossy surface. Gracie had been her anchor in so many ways, and yet, Mila had let her slip through the cracks. She could still hear Gracie's laugh, still feel the warmth of her hand in hers during the kitchen dance. That memory lived rent-free in her mind, no matter how hard she tried to bury it.

But Gracie wasn't here now, she was alone.

She blamed herself for everything, but she quickly learned that there was no one to blame. Not even herself, she believed everything happened to teach her something and she learned it.

The door buzzer startled her, jolting her out of her thoughts. She frowned, glancing at the clock. She wasn't expecting anyone, and Audrey wasn't one to show up unannounced.

Crossing the room, she opened the door to see a delivery guy. "Yeah?" She questioned softly, unsure why he was there.

"Delivery," Came the gruff reply.

She hadn't ordered anything, but as she looked at the box in his hand, she saw the familiar handwriting scrawled on the top: For Raindrop.

A nickname that Gracie would call her in private.

Her breath hitched as she stared at the box, her mind racing. She gently took the box from the man, saying a quick goodbye as he walked off. Once she placed it on her dining room table, she opened it to find a chaotic assortment of items: handwritten notes, old photos, a couple of vinyl records they used to listen to on repeat, and a small stack of lyric sheets.

On top, there was a folded piece of paper.

Mila picked it up carefully, unfolding it to reveal Gracie's familiar handwriting.

Mila,

I don't know if you'll even open this, or if you'll want to. But I couldn't keep holding onto all these pieces of us without saying something. I've missed you—more than I can even put into words. I'm proud of everything you've done, even if I've had to cheer you on from a distance. But I hope someday, maybe soon, I'll get to say it to your face.

Love always,

Gracie

Mila sank onto the floor, clutching the note like it was a lifeline. Her chest felt too full, her throat too tight. She'd spent months convincing herself that Gracie had moved on, that whatever they'd had was gone for good, but here in her hands, was proof that maybe—just maybe—there was something worth fighting for.

But for now, that wasn't her main focus. She would post about this package though.

The bright stage lights of The Tonight Show gleamed down on Mila as she sat in the guest chair, her hands lightly clasped in her lap. She was dressed in a sleek black pantsuit, her makeup subtle yet striking, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. The crowd's energy buzzed in the air, and Mila couldn't help but smile as Jimmy Fallon leaned forward, his signature grin lighting up the set.

This was the moment she was waiting for her whole life. Being in this chair reminded her of all the times she would act this out as a child. Somehow, she always knew she would end up here, and it still felt unreal that she was here.

"So, Mila." Jimmy began, holding a cue card but barely glancing at it. "Your album Roots has taken the world by storm. Critics love it, fans are obsessed, and it's already topping the charts. How does it feel to have this kind of impact right out of the gate?" He asked her curiously, his signature smile displayed on his face.

Mila let out a soft laugh, her fingers brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It feels...unreal, honestly." She admitted. "I mean, I spent so much time second-guessing myself while making this album. I wasn't sure if people would get it you know? But seeing how much it resonates—it's more than I ever couldn't hoped for."

Jimmy nodded earnestly. "You say second-guessing, but the vulnerability in your music is exactly what fans are connecting with. I mean, there's this rawness to it. Were you ever worried about putting so much of yourself out there?"

Mila paused, considering her words before she spoke. "Yeah, it's terrifying," She said, her voice steady but thoughtful. "The songs on Roots are probably the most personal thing I've ever shared. But I think that's what makes music so powerful—when it's honest. And even though it was scary, I knew I had to do it. For myself and for anyone else who's been through something similar."

The audience erupted into applause, and Jimmy smiled warmly. "Well, you nailed it. The album is phenomenal, and clearly, your fans agree. But—" He leaned forward conspiratorially, his grin turning mischievous. "I have to ask about some of the rumors surrounding the album. You know where I'm going with this, right?"

Mila laughed lightly, shaking her head as the crowd let out a mix of cheers and murmurs. "I had a feeling," She teased, folding her hands in her lap.

"Okay, let's just cut to the chase," Jimmy said, waving the cue card dramatically. "There's been a lot of speculation about certain tracks on the album—especially the ones people think are about Gracie Abrams. And then, of course, there's the package everyone's been talking about since you posted about it earlier." Once he mentioned the package, he showed a photo of her post on a card making sure the crowd and everyone at home could see it.

At the mention of the package, the crowd erupted into cheers, and Mila couldn't help but smile, though her cheeks flushed slightly. She took a deep breath, her tone light but sincere. "Alright, alright," She said, holding up her hands. "Here's the thing: Roots is a deeply personal album. Yes, some of the songs are inspired by relationships I've had, and yes, Gracie was a big part of my life. She's an incredible person and a huge inspiration to me, both musically and personally."

Jimmy leaned forward, his eyes twinkling. "So, what can you tell us about the package? Come on, Mila, don't leave us hanging!" He spoke, eager to get any details that he could.

She looked out at the crowd as they cheered again, and Mila let out a soft laugh, her fingers brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "The package," She repeated, a bittersweet tugging at her lips. "It was...unexpected. Gracie sent me a handwritten letter along with a few things that were, um, meaningful to us. It was thoughtful, and it brought back a lot of memories."

Jimmy tilted his head, clearly fishing for more. "And how did you feel when you got it? Was it emotional? Are we talking tears, laughter, maybe a little of both?" He asked her curiously.

Mila's smile turned wistful. "Definitely a little of both," She admitted. "It reminded me of how much we've been through together and how much she means to me, even now. But..." She hesitated, her voice softening. "I do wish that things had been different with us toward the end. I wanted things to work out, but right now, I'm focusing on me."

The audience let out a collective "aww" and Jimmy placed a hand over his chest dramatically. "Well, if the songs are anything to go by, I think the world is rooting for you two. But let's talk about your growth. This album—it's not just a love story. It's a journey. What's next for Mila?"

"Honestly, I'm just taking it one step at a time." She replied with a soft smile. "I've been writing nonstop, so maybe there's another album in the future. For now, I'm focused on connecting with fans, continuing to share my story through music, and my upcoming tour next year!" She excitedly spoke as she finally got to announce the one thing she had kept a secret for so long. She had been so excited to announce this tour. She had worked so hard on all the details: the setlist, the opener, the cities, and the venues.

Everything she had ever hoped and dreamed for was happening the way she wanted. Her dreams were coming true and she couldn't be happier about it, if only her father could see her now. He would have been super proud of her.

Jimmy clapped his hands together, his grin widening as the audience erupted into cheers. "A tour! That's huge, Mila. Congratulations! Can you tell us a little more about it? Any surprises fans should look forward to?"

Mila leaned back in her chair, her smile bright but laced with a hint of mischief. "Well," She began, drawing out the word teasingly, "I can't give away everything, but I will say that this tour is going to be unlike anything I've ever done before. I've poured my heart into the setlist—it's a mix of songs from Roots and some older tracks I've never performed live. And the opener? Let's just say fans are going to love them."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, leaning forward as if prying for more. "Come on, Mila, Just a little hint? A name? An initial?"

Mila laughed, shaking her head. "Nope, my lips are sealed," She said playfully. "You'll just have to wait and see!"

The crowd groaned dramatically, and Jimmy threw his hands up in mock frustration. "Fine, fine. But I'm holding you to that—you better come back and spill all the details once the tour starts!"

"Deal," Mila replied replied with a grin.

Jimmy gestured to the audience. "Alright, folks, you heard it here first—Mila's going on tour! Be sure to grab tickets as soon as they drop, because I have a feeling they're going to sell out fast." He turned back to Mila, his tone softening. "Before we wrap up, I just have to say—you've had an incredible year. The album, the interviews, and now the tour...how does it feel to finally be at this point? To see all your hard work paying off?"

Mila paused for a moment, her smile fading slightly as she considered the question. "It feels...surreal," She admitted, her voice quieter. "I've been through a lot to get here—personally and professionally. There were moments when I wasn't sure if I'd make it, but I just kept going. And now, standing here, seeing everything come together...it's overwhelming in the best way."

Jimmy nodded, his expression was genuine. "Well, Mila, you're an inspiration to so many people, and I think I speak for everyone when I say we can't wait to see what's next for you."

The audience broke into applause, and Jimmy turned toward the camera. "Mila's album Roots is out now—make sure to check it out, and keep an eye out for her upcoming tour! We'll be right back after the break!"

As the lights dimmed and the show cut to commercial, Mila exhaled a deep breath, her nerves slowly settling. Jimmy leaned over to her, his voice kind. "You did great," He said. "Thanks for sharing so much tonight."

"Thank you for having me," Mila replied, her smile sincere.

Backstage, Mila walked into her dressing, her adrenaline still humming. On the small table, she noticed a gift box wrapped in simple, elegant paper with a card resting on top. Her heart skipped as she recognized the familiar handwriting."

She picked up the card, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened it.

"Congratulations on everything. I knew you'd do amazing things. Always proud of you. - Gracie."

Mila's throat tightened and she set the card down carefully. Her chest ached, but this time, it wasn't from sadness. It was something warmer—hopeful, even.

Gracie's words lingered in her mind as she packed up her things and prepared to leave the studio. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, Mila felt ready to face it head-on.

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AUTHORS NOTE !

guys, act three is almost

complete and i'm so sad

to see this story go once

act four is finished. thank

you all for giving this story

the love and support that

you've been giving it and

it warms my heart to see

this amount of support for

it. also, MILA'S FINALLY

GETTING HER LIFE BACK

TOGETHER!!! anyway, i hope

you all enjoyed and i hope

there's no mistakes!