The pulsating bass of the club’s soundcheck echoed through the dim backstage room. Their friend—the music artist—was immersed in tweaking the final mix, headphones draped around their neck and a shy, focused smile on their face. Briar lounged on a nearby couch, sketchbook resting on her lap, fingers occasionally brushing Autumn’s hand resting on her thigh. Autumn stood close by, arms folded but eyes soft, her other hand casually entwined with Briar’s.
“You know,” Briar said, her voice cutting through the thumping beats like a teasing melody, “you’re so wrapped up in your music, you don’t even notice the two most obvious fans in the world right here.”
Autumn stepped closer, lifting the box of pastries she’d baked earlier with a hopeful smile. “We brought these for you. Thought you might need a sweet boost before you go on.”
The friend looked up, cheeks flushing pink as they accepted the box. “Thanks, Autumn. You didn’t have to…”
“We didn’t,” Briar interrupted with a smirk, squeezing Autumn’s hand just a little. “But we wanted to. Because, surprise—you’re kinda special to us.”
Their friend blinked, genuinely confused but touched, fiddling nervously with the cord of their headphones. “Special? Oh, I… I didn’t realize.”
Autumn chuckled, stepping in to lightly brush a stray lock of hair from their forehead. Briar rested her head gently on Autumn’s shoulder, both women sharing a small smile. “It’s not that subtle, really.”
Briar shot Autumn a look before smirking at their friend. “You’ve got your head buried in beats and lyrics, but trust me—we’re here. Waiting for you to notice.”
The artist laughed, a little breathless. “You two are relentless.”
The artist’s eyes kept drifting to Briar’s edgy wolfcut and those green streaks slicing through dark hair—like a living art piece. Then Autumn’s wild ginger curls, paired with that fierce blazer and those boots… damn, they both looked stunning, impossible to ignore. Every detail made the artist’s heart race, cheeks flushing hotter than the club lights. How had they missed this glow before?
As the sound engineer called for final checks, Autumn slipped an arm around the artist’s waist, Briar resting her hand over Autumn’s on their friend’s hip. Briar leaned in close, whispering, “And if you get nervous on stage, you’ve got us—your loudest fans, your softest place to fall.”
The artist’s smile softened, eyes flicking between the two—finally seeing the warmth and affection they’d somehow missed until now.
“Okay,” they said, voice steadying, “maybe I’ll let you both come watch the set. Maybe... maybe even hang out after.”
Briar’s grin widened, and Autumn squeezed the artist’s hand. They shared a quick, knowing look—quiet confirmation of the bond between them. “Deal.”
The bass dropped, lights flickered, and with Briar and Autumn on either side, the artist stepped out into the glowing crowd, feeling a little less alone and a whole lot more seen.