"I'm not going to," Maya said. "I'm sending it to myself. And I'm going to play it at your wedding someday."
He didn't argue. When she heard him breathe again, it sounded like relief.
"God," he said. "Delete it."
Silence. Then a quiet laugh, almost shy.
"Don't go far," the voice sang. "I know I said I needed space, but the dark is getting harsh, and I can't find my face." Justin Bieber Don-t Go Far -1- wav
Maya froze. That was Leo's voice. Her steady, sarcastic, "too cool for everything" brother. But this wasn't the Leo who wore black jeans and quoted obscure films. This was the Leo who used to tape posters of Justin Bieber above his bed, who learned "Baby" on a cheap Casio, who cried when his first girlfriend moved away.
"Leo," she said. "I found your song."
She listened to the whole thing. The production was terrible—the chorus clipped, a dog barked at 2:17, and the final note cracked into a laugh.