Twenty minutes or soter, Leo strolled back into the house, a cassette tape in hand.


    Mirabe nced his way and<i>, </i>noticing his usual casual demeanor, called out, “Les, toks back.”


    With a nonchnt hum, Leo lifted the tape for her to see. “Got a new track for you to check out It’s still rough around the edges, though.”


    “Sure,” Mirabe said, setting aside her smartphone.


    Leo ambled over to the stereo, slid the tape in, and hit y. A raw acape version of a song filled the room. The sound was unpolished, stripped of studio magic, revealing the song’s bare


    essence.


    Mirabe listened intently, recognizing the melody and lyrics as almost identical to the version she had stumbled upon online.


    Standing by the stereo, Leo waited for the song to end before arching an eyebrow at his dice, his face brimming with cocky confidence. “What do you think? I’ve got the chops, don’t I?”


    “It’s good,” Mirabe nodded, then after a brief pause, she added, “y it again, Leo.”


    His smirk deepening, Leo obliged and pressed y once more. After another listen, Mirabe casually inquired, “Have you yed this song for anyone else yet?”


    Leo pulled out the cassette and sank down on the couch beside her. “Nope, just showed an early version <i>to </i>Collins and the guys in the band. You’re the first to hear the finished product


    Mirabe tapped her chin thoughtfully and then asked, “Do you musicians ever run into a situation where you identally create a tune that sounds like someone else’s?”


    Leo chuckled and nced at his sister. “Well, that depends. If someone else’s track inspires you, you might end up with a simr melody or vibe. But that’s just imitation on a musical level.”


    “What if the lyrics and melody are exactly the same?” she tilted her head.


    “That’s even less likely unless it’s a case of internal giarism or theft,” Leo replied, then squinted suspiciously at her. “Why do you ask all of a sudden?”


    “Oh, just curious,” Mirabe said with a nonchnt.


    Leo lifted his chin in pride. “The chances of your brother here creating a tune that shes <b>with </b>someone else’s are slim to none. Not to toot my own horn, but in this industry, it’s always others taking cues from me.”


    Mirabe reached out and yfully ruffled his curly hair. “Mhm, Leo, you are the best.” The look on her face was utterly indulgent.


    Leo was momentarily lost for words. There it was again,


    <b>10 </b>


    1027


    Her gaze slightly narrowed, and Mirabezily crossed her legs. Leo’s song had just been finished today. So, where did Jay get that even more polished version he had?


    It Jay had once gotten his hands on an early version of Leo’s track and tried toplete it himself, there would be differences in the tune. It would be a one–in–a–million coincidence even if they somehow ended up exactly the same.


    The origin was indeed a mystery.


    Just then. Mirabe’s phone buzzed at her side. She pulled her thoughts back, picked up the device, and nced at it. She then calmly fished out a pair of headphones and put them on.


    Tapping on an app, she was soon listening to a conversation through her earbuds · a woman talking. The man’s voice was unfamiliar, but the woman’s was unmistakably recognizable.


    Mirabe was taken aback, her fingertips lightly grazing the earphones.