Chapter Text
Connection didn’t come easily, that was something Mira learned quite quickly. Those with authority demanded too much, peers dismissed her over her hair signifying rebellion, family expected major achievements. She learned to close herself off without kneeling, refusing to relinquish her dyed hair, clutching tight to her creative outlets.
It was unfortunately plain to her that all of these didn’t quite prepare her for how to deal with being on a team with two other members. They shared an interest and a goal at least, something to push them all together with time. She could tell quite quickly how socially withheld Celine and Rumi were by comparison to Zoey.
Zoey was the largest outlier. She meshed perfectly with her intense interest in creating songs, but that only warranted admiration at the steady flow of her talents. What Mira couldn’t get past was how she carried herself, while Mira knew her own habit of holding her expressions neutral, Zoey felt like just as much of an open book as her lyric notebooks were.
While Mira knew everyone had their masks and filters, it felt to her as though Zoey had simply seen no use for many of the filters most people would use. It caught Mira off guard, caught her attention, but most of all it carried a sort of bravery to it that she couldn’t imagine in her own grasp.
In their first practice Mira hadn’t even thought before pulling back when Zoey tried to put a hand on her shoulder. Later in, Zoey attempted a hi-five with Rumi that was accepted after a puzzled delay. Mira didn’t expect Zoey to disregard her unapproachable disposition to make the same offer. She held tight to her distance, not responding to it. After a beat too long, Zoey smacked her own hand instead. Mira was amused by the action, and found that Zoey could simply accept the gap and fill it with herself.
Mira, despite being unnerved by it, couldn’t tear away the image of bravery. She couldn’t imagine herself in Zoey’s position, to initiate so openly yet to not bristle a little against the gap before she understood it. She needed to find her own way to connect, they all did - their goals demanded it of her, her career demanded it of her. But for now she would keep hold of her distance.
Zoey was persistent. Mira was often confused how Zoey could continue to decide to try and reach out to her. She knew she wasn’t as easy to reach out to as Rumi as a teammate, since Rumi had smooth edges and a natural sense of how to pull things forward - Mira felt like she was scrambling comparatively.
She still wasn’t used to any of this, she had done almost nothing yet Zoey still managed to find it suitable to hold the edge of her shirt to keep from getting lost in a crowd. A part of her hoped it was simply practical, a part of her hoped to be worth that scrap of trust, a part of her was faint with worry she may accidentally flicker her flame outward unto damaging their group.
Mira quickly pressed down the ghostly sensation of goosebumps when Zoey swapped from holding her shirt to clinging to her arm when the gap of the crowd allowed it. She wanted to pull away on reflex, but she stopped herself. It felt so foreign, as though someone was trying to pull her close after she’d just been kept apart for years - it had its own warmth that felt like it was trying to burn her.
Zoey seemed unphased by Mira’s attempts to brush her off. Every failed hi-five and awkward attempt to reach for her, it should have been enough for her to be given up on. But Zoey hadn’t, and it suddenly hit her. Zoey was trying to be a team, to make her part of it. Mira couldn’t hold back the thought that if she kept resisting this much she’d make herself an outsider before she could even be part of the team.
She knew she needed to be sure Zoey wasn’t left behind as they walked. Zoey especially seemed like she would need it, if her constant attempts to reach meant anything, which it seemed like they did. Mira couldn’t say she disliked the idea of helping this way. A sigh escaped her when it sunk in that she needed to change, and just how much that would take.