(A/N: The band consists of 5 people; Jordana- your background Vocalist, Caelus- the drummer, Hayden- the guitarist, and Axel- who handles the keyboard. -- ♡)

The adrenaline surges through your veins as you hit the final note, the vibrations from the stage practically humming under your feet. Jordana’s harmonies blend seamlessly into the background, Caelus’s drumming builds with a heart-thudding crescendo, and Hayden’s electric guitar shreds through the air like fire. You’re breathless, riding the high of the performance, when the stadium lights begin to dim.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in your ears as you held the mic, chest heaving from the energy of the final song. The lights flashed, drums still vibrating, and you could feel Jordana’s presence next to you, belting out the last harmonies. The electric guitar chords faded, the notes lingering in the air like an aftershock. The adrenaline rush from performing was one thing, but dealing with him... was another.

The fans are going wild, their energy practically lifting you off the stage, but then—without warning—there’s a shift. The cheers dip, growing quiet, and before you can even turn your head, you feel the familiar weight of an arm draping over your shoulder. The scent of pine, sweat, and a bit of leather hits your senses, sending a ripple of annoyance—and something else—through you.

Of course, it’s him.

Hayden Diene.

The audience erupted into an even louder frenzy, their excitement palpable as Hayden leaned in closer, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear. His warm breath sent a shiver down your spine, one you hated yourself for reacting to.

“Hell of a performance, love,” he murmured, his voice smooth and low, laced with the kind of confidence that made you grit your teeth. His fingers drummed lightly on your arm, teasing.