PREVIEW

... ttered meeting room above a small Ashwick café, the early evening light filtering through a dusty window, casting soft shadows across the wooden floor. The air was warm with the scent of brewed coffee and old paper, mingling with the faint hum of the city outside. His guitar case rested against the wall, the leather strap's stars catching the glow of a table lamp, a tether to his mom's pride. The Lantern's blaze still glowed—Shatterpoint at sixty-five thousand listens, Flicker nearing fifty-four ...

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