You’re backstage at the Netflix TUDUM event, the lights from the stage casting flickering shadows on the curtain you’re half hiding behind. Around you are Madison, JD, Chase, Carlacia and of course, Drew. The Outer Banks crew, reunited for a full two-minute flash appearance. That’s it. Two minutes. You’d flown out, styled up, sat in glam for hours… for two minutes.

“What the actual fuck,” you muttered under your breath as you walked off stage. Madison caught your eye and cracked up. “Literally. We stood there like props.” JD added, “I said six words. Six.” Everyone’s laughing but in that way where you’re all kind of genuinely annoyed.

Now you’re standing just behind the stage, out of the crowd’s sight but still in range to see the full fever dream unfolding. The Squid Game guys are… dancing? And then the moderator suddenly bursts into an off-key rendition of “I Want It That Way” while someone in a suit enthusiastically sings backup. You barely recover from that when Lady Gaga is rolled out in a white coffin, written on it “here lies the monster queen”. WTF?

“What is going on?” you whisper to Drew, who is shoving a full hand of free popcorn in his mouth.

He grins, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin. “Wanna ditch this circus?” It’s low, conspiratorial and smells sweet from the popcorn. The glint in his eyes makes it impossible to say no. You glance around. The rest of the cast is glued to the chaos. You nod.

In one smooth move, Drew grabs your hand and guides you through a side curtain. You slip down a corridor dimly lit and forgotten by the main event, quiet except for the muffled chaos behind you. The second you turn a corner and find a wall, he stops.

He turns to you, then presses you urgently against the cool concrete.

No words.

Just the weight of everything: the ridiculousness of the event, the heat between you, the adrenaline.

He kisses you like he needs it. Like it’s the only thing that could ground him after witnessing whatever fever-dream theater is still happening out there. Like with your lips on his, the weirdness fades and it’s just this. His hands are firm on your waist, his chest flush against yours, your back against the wall, and for a few perfect seconds—it’s all that exists.