Jennifer Kendrick was not exactly a morning person, but she was a routine person. And routines, in her opinion, trumped everything, even the siren call of a few more hours of sleep.
At precisely 6:00 AM, her alarm, a subtle blend of techno and traditional Russian folk music, would chirp to life. First, hydration was key. A tall glass of water with a squeeze of lemon. Then came the physical discipline. Starting with stretches that would make a yoga instructor weep, flowing seamlessly into twenty push-ups delivered with the focus of a seasoned soldier, and finishing with five pull-ups on the bar she'd somehow convinced her mother to install in her doorway. Honestly, she had no idea how she convinced her mother.
After that, she would go downstairs to prepare breakfast. This morning, it was Syrniki – thick, pan-fried quark pancakes, subtly sweet and served with a dollop of sour cream and a scattering of fresh berries. As she stood over the stove, flipping the golden-brown Syrniki, she pulled out her worn notebook, its pages filled with scribbled lyrics, crossed-out phrases, and musical notes that only she could decipher.
"Almost done. I just need to find the right sound." She mused under her breath, rereading her recently written lyrics.
She carefully placed a portion of Syrniki into a cheerful Lucy lunchbox. Her mother, Wanda, was always rushing in the mornings, a byproduct of her demanding job as CEO of K-Industries.
True to form, Wanda Kendrick, a whirlwind of power suit and perfectly coiffed blonde hair, descended the stairs. "Foods on the table мама." Jennifer announced, switching to Russian.
Wanda's face softened. She walked over to Jennifer, kissing her on the cheek. "Спасибо, дорогая." (Thank you, darling) she said, grabbing the Lucy box and hurrying out the door.
Jennifer ate her breakfast, savoring the quiet moments before the day truly began. Once finished, she retreated to her personal sanctuary: her studio. It was a space ingeniously built into her room, a testament to her ingenuity and her mother's willingness to indulge her creative pursuits. Synthesizers, mixers, and a multitude of instruments filled the space, creating a haven of sonic possibilities. She experimented with different synth sounds, searching for the perfect sonic landscape for her lyrics. Frustrated she sighed loudly before deciding to take a break. She changed into her running gear – black leggings, a gray tank top, and a worn pair of sneakers. Stepping out of her front door, she nearly collided with Haley Dunphy.
Haley, dressed in a slightly too-glamorous dress, looked flustered. "H-Hi, I w-was about to knock," she stammered, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks as she took in Jennifer's athletic attire.
~~~Interview~~~
"I have no idea where that stutter came from. I *never* stutter," Haley said to the camera, her voice laced with exasperation. "She just surprised me when she opened the door. Yeah, that's it, nothing else." She waved her hand dismissively, as if shooing away an annoying fly. "Why are you making that face?"
~~~End Interview~~~
"I can see that." Jennifer said, a slight smile gracing her lips. "So, did you need something? I was about to go on my morning run."
"Yeah, same here. I just wanted to ask if you'd join me?" Haley blurted out, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them.
~~~Interview~~~
Haley threw her hands up in the air, pacing frantically in front of the Dunphy family couch. "Why did I *say* that?!" she wailed. "I haven't run since middle school! I never run!"
~~~End Interview~~~
Jennifer's smile widened. "Sure, I'll just wait here for you to change," she said, casually leaning against the doorframe. She was oblivious to the internal turmoil she was causing.
Haley looked down at her dress, the realization of her impulsive invitation hitting her like a ton of bricks. "Right, give me a few minutes." She turned and jogged, as gracefully as one could in heels and a tight dress, back across the street and into her house.
---
Jennifer and Haley had a history, a childhood connection forged in shared secrets, backyard adventures, and the unwavering belief that they would be best friends forever. Then, Jennifer's father had passed away unexpectedly, and Jennifer and Wanda had moved back to Russia to be closer to family. Haley had been heartbroken. Now, a few years later, they were back, and Haley was trying, and failing, to play it cool.
In reality, Haley had harbored a secret crush on Jennifer since they were kids, a fact she vehemently denied to herself and everyone else. Jennifer was everything Haley wasn't: effortlessly cool, fiercely independent, and talented in ways that made Haley feel like she was just…stuck.
A chaotic ten minutes later, Haley reappeared, clad in a pair of old sweatpants, a faded band t-shirt, and sneakers that looked like they hadn't seen the light of day in years. She was already sweating.
"Ready?" Jennifer grinned mischievously.
"Born ready," Haley replied weakly, attempting a confident smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Their run started at a brisk pace, dictated by Jennifer's natural athleticism. Haley struggled to keep up, her breath coming in ragged gasps. By the time they reached the end of the block, she was already regretting every life choice that had led her to this moment.
"So," Jennifer said, her voice barely winded. "What's new with you?"
Haley managed a weak "Nothing much," before collapsing onto a nearby park bench. Jennifer, concerned, sat beside her.
"Are you okay? We can walk if you want."
"No, no, I'm fine! Just…admiring the foliage," Haley wheezed, gesturing vaguely at a nearby tree.
Jennifer raised a skeptical eyebrow but didn't push it. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of the park filling the air.
"I've been writing music," Jennifer finally said, breaking the silence. "Trying to find my sound, you know?"
Haley perked up. "Really? That's so cool! Can I hear some?"
Jennifer hesitated. "It's not…finished yet. But maybe soon."
Haley beamed. "I'd love to! I always knew you were going to be a rock star."
As they walked back towards their street, a comfortable silence settled between them. Haley, despite her aching muscles and burning lungs, felt a sense of contentment she hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe this awkward run was exactly what she needed.
Back at the Dunphy house, Haley collapsed onto the couch, utterly exhausted.
Claire walked in, looking surprised. "Haley? What happened to you? Did you finally decide to exercise?"
"Something like that," Haley mumbled, closing her eyes.
"Well, whatever it was, it looks like it killed you," Claire said, shaking her head.
"By the way, Jennifer stopped by earlier. She left this for you." She handed Haley a small, folded piece of paper.
Haley opened it, her heart pounding. It was a handwritten note: *Call me. – J.*
And underneath, scribbled in the corner, were a few lines of lyrics:
*"Lost in the echo of yesterday Searching for a rhythm, a brand new way With every beat, a chance to start again To find the music within."*
Haley smiled. Maybe running wasn't so bad after all.