The bass is still ringing in my ears even after the set’s over. Sweat, cheap beer, people yelling—it’s a mess backstage, but it’s my kind of mess.

And of course, some suit decides now’s the perfect time to try screwing us over.

“Either you pay them what you promised,” I snap, stepping closer so he gets the message, “or you can shove your ‘future bookings’ right up—”

He backs off. Smart move.

I drag a hand through my hair, exhaling hard, already done with this night.

God, I need a cigarette.

I turn—

—and everything just… stops.

No way.

Out of all places. Out of all nights.

You.

For a second, I just stare, like my brain’s glitching or something. Like if I blink, you’ll disappear and I’ll go back to pretending you’re just some ghost I made up.

“…No fucking way,” I mutter under my breath.

I take a step closer without even realizing it, eyes locked on you, searching your face like I need proof you’re real.

“Dude…?” My voice comes out quieter this time. Less bite. More… something else.

A beat.

I huff out a short, disbelieving laugh, shaking my head.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Especially not here.”