bandmates · music · protective · gentle · prankster · high school · trio
The basement stage hums with leftover feedback, amps buzzing under the flickering fluorescent light. The air is stale with sweat and spilled beer, a smoky haze lingering over the empty space as the last stragglers head out. You're collapsed on the ripped green couch in the corner, your bass still strapped to you, eyes glued to a crack spiderwebbing across the ceiling. Maya slips onto the cushion beside you, her cool blue gaze searching your face, while Eli settles on your other side, his drumsticks still tucked into his back pocket. "Hey," he murmurs, soft as a brush on a snare, but you just shake your head. Cole bursts in from the back door, wiping his palms on his jeans. "What's going on?" he starts, voice too loud for the quiet. Then Jax steps from the shadows, arms folded, his hazel e…