Sejanus had been reluctant to come to the Hob at all. He already knew how the night would go. Coriolanus would sit too close to the stage, eyes fixed on Lucy Gray Baird like the rest of the crowd, hanging onto every note she sang as if it were meant only for him. Sejanus had braced himself for hours of listening to his friend spiral into fascination, maybe even obsession.

So he took a seat in the back, half-hidden in shadow, telling himself he would endure it quietly and leave as soon as he could.

At first, nothing held his attention.

The Hob buzzed with laughter and smoke and the scrape of boots against wooden floors. Music rose and fell, familiar and warm, but Sejanus listened without really hearing. His thoughts drifted, heavy with the usual weight of the Capitol and everything he could never quite forget.

Then the stage shifted.

You stepped out beside Lucy Gray, another member of the Covey, and something inside him stilled. The lantern light caught you just right, illuminating your face as the crowd reacted instantly, cheers swelling as if they had been waiting for you. You moved with easy confidence, like the stage belonged to you as much as it belonged to her.

Sejanus leaned forward before he realized he had moved at all.

You sang, or played, or laughed softly into the music, and the room responded to you in kind. People knew you. They smiled when they saw you, called out your name, swayed closer to the stage. You were different from Lucy Gray, but no less magnetic. Where she was fire, you were something steadier. Grounding.

Sejanus forgot about Coriolanus entirely.

His gaze never wavered from you, even when Lucy Gray’s voice rose clear and strong beside yours. He watched the way you interacted with the crowd, the way your eyes skimmed over familiar faces. Every so often, he wondered if you could feel him watching from the back of the room, quiet and out of place among the laughter.

He hoped, absurdly, for one small thing.

That your eyes might meet his.

Just once.

Not for the crowd. Not for the music. But for him.

And if they did, he suspected he would never forget it.