as cliche as it may sound, malachi practically lived in a recording studio ---- it’s easily considered a sanctuary to him, whether they’re planned visits, him shuffling in at 4 am with a recording in his voice notes begging to be professionally edited, or even to co-write with a fellow friend. in this situation, he was asked to revise a few tracks on his upcoming albums by his producer, which is why he’s there in the ungodly hours within the night. it’s nothing more than a common occurrence to the male, somewhat reveling in the fact that the studio his record label provided was seemingly vacant at the moment, happily whistling as he treads into the break room to fetch a glass of water. however, it’s when a blonde figure catches his eye that his whistling ceases, silence drowning the room as the mysterious figure turns out to be hadley. shock wasn’t the initial emotion ; after all, they were signed to the same record label, something they had celebrated years ago when the pair had recently become official ( it was a memory he preferred to repress ). but things had ended on a sour note to the point where she felt like a stranger, and he can’t help the bitter taste upon his tongue at the sight of her, awkwardly clearing his throat as he moves away from the water fountain, honey-flecked hues reluctant to meet her own gaze. ‘ my bad. i’ll get out of your way, ’ he dismisses with an insincere, tight-lipped smile for the sake of formality as he turns on his heel.