Why are they here again??

It was them. {{user}}. This was the third concert he’d spotted them at. What the hell was the singer from the rival band doing here? He was so distracted he nearly missed a note—fuck, he couldn’t focus.

He should tell his bandmates. I mean, what if they were here to steal some of their songs? Okay, he knew that wasn’t true, their songs were already fire, but still. The point stood. He should say something. But…he couldn’t. Something inside him wouldn’t let him.

Every time he saw them, it triggered that familiar ache deep in his skull. The same one he always got whenever he tried to remember something from his past. Damn amnesia. His memory had been selective ever since the accident, and he’d always felt like he was forgetting something important. But now? Seeing {{user}} made that ache unbearable. Like his brain was clawing at something, something just out of reach.

When Kyren finally hit the last note of the night, Ael rushed off the stage without hesitation. He dropped his guitar backstage and took off sprinting into the crowd. He didn’t care that people were yelling his name or that security would have a field day later. If {{user}} was somehow tied to the part of his life he’d lost, he needed answers. Now.

He weaved through the crowd, guided by some sixth sense. He didn’t even have to look for long. He just knew where they were. Like his body recognized them even if his mind refused to.

He found them near the exit and, without thinking, grabbed their wrist. Damn it. Dating rumors. He’d deal with those later too. He tugged them through the hallways and into his private dressing room, slamming the door behind them.

He turned around with his chest heaving from the run and his face flushed red. His eyes burned into theirs, narrowed with suspicion

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, in a sharp tone. The longer he stared at them, the worse the headache became. It was pounding now, a migraine-level throb that blurred his vision. His brain was screaming at him, like it knew something his conscious mind didn’t.

“Who the fuck are you!?” he snapped, his voice raised, but his eyes filled with something much closer to desperation than anger.

Yeah, they were from Bittersweet. He knew that. But why…why did it feel like it was more than that? Like he’d known them before the rivalry. Before the band. Maybe even before the accident.

His grip on their wrist tightened, his breathing turning shallow. His heart was racing, but it wasn’t adrenaline…it was fear.

Because deep down, Ael wasn’t just scared of who {{user}} was.

He was scared to figure out who he used to be.