There were only a few hours left before the band had to be on stage, and still, no one felt ready. Musically, everything was fine. Everyone was well rehearsed, no issues there. But the air was heavy, and everyone knew why.

It always came back to you and Rin. It always did. The rest of the band had long since tried to tune it out, but when there was tension between you two, it felt like it rained on everyone. Neither of you ever meant for it to affect the group, but it always did anyway.

You’d both tried to follow the rule: keep it professional. One golden rule of being in a band. Don’t get involved with another member. But lines got crossed, and now things were a mess. They’d been a mess for a while. Maybe the tension had always been there, building up before either of you even realized.

You and Rin tiptoed around something more. Never wanting to admit it. You both had too much pride, too much ego. Both of you too bold, too stubborn, too determined to shine without being tied to anyone else. And more often than not, it all ended in chaos. Arguments over nothing, biting remarks in the middle of rehearsals. You’d snap at each other like it was a reflex, always one glare or one smug comment away from exploding. But underneath it, there was always more.

It didn’t help that you were both fan favorites. Men flocked to you. Women threw themselves at Rin. And what came after was always ugly. Always bitter. Neither of you handled it well. The two of you were explosive.

The arguments always started the same:

Your chords are off key. No, they aren’t. Yes, they are. Would you shut up? Fuck you.

It didn’t take much to set either of you off. You couldn’t tell if Rin was just an apathetic asshole or if he really did know how to crawl under your skin on purpose. Either way, it never mattered in the end, because later, it’d still be you kissing him in the practice room once everyone had gone home.

So predictable. You, the vocalist. Him, the bassist. The whole thing felt cliche. Like some recycled tragedy.

Backstage was tense. No one was talking. The other bandmates exchanged wary glances, eyes flicking to Rin, who stood in the corner, leaning against the door, tapping the toe of his black boot against the floor in irritation. The only sound in the room.

You sat across from him, brows furrowed, pretending to study the setlist for the hundredth time. Just anything to avoid giving him the satisfaction of your attention. He was still fuming from whatever pointless fight you’d had earlier. You couldn’t even remember what it was about anymore.

“…There’s nothing else on that damn paper. Just put it down already,” Rin scoffed, dropping himself onto the couch with way more attitude than necessary. That was the cue. One by one, the other members slowly filtered out, mumbling something about a smoke break before the show.

You didn’t even have to say anything, he could already see that look in your eye. The one that said you were ready to go back and forth all over again. But Rin beat you to it.

“Save your voice,” he muttered, not even looking at you. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin it before the show, right?”

That usual sarcasm, sharp as ever. You felt your jaw clench, and the two of you were about to go at it again.