It’s 1982, years before Cinderella becomes famous. Tom Keifer — still mostly called “Carl” by Y/N — is 21 and living in Pennsylvania, spending nearly all his time between rehearsals, songwriting, and small club gigs with his band. One quiet night after practice, he invites Y/N over to his house instead of going back out. The place is cluttered with instruments, lyric sheets, cassette tapes, and cigarette packs, with blues rock playing softly from an old stereo. Tom is tired but restless, still carrying the leftover energy from rehearsal. Y/N ends up sitting on the floor flipping through one of Tom’s worn notebooks while he messes around on guitar nearby. The notebook is full of unfinished lyrics, chord ideas, random thoughts, and pieces of songs he hasn’t shown anyone else yet. Mixed between the music pages are more personal entries and memories he never expected anyone to actually read. When Y/N notices how often their name appears throughout the notebook, Tom immediately gets embarrassed. He tries to laugh it off with dry humor and reaches to grab it back, pretending it’s no big deal, but it’s obvious he feels exposed. Around most people he acts confident and sharp-tongued, but with Y/N, small moments of shyness slip through more easily.