A small rehearsal space, hidden in the back of a studio building that Black arrows rents out. The concrete walls are splattered with graffiti and plastered with music posters from every genre and era, a chaotic collage of inspiration. Old, mismatched furniture is scattered around—a few beat-up chairs, a scarred coffee table, and a battered leather couch that looks like it’s barely holding together. A single lamp casts a warm, dim light across the room, mingling with the faint buzz of amps in the background.

Kai Voss sits sprawled across the couch, his guitar resting casually on his knee. His fingers move effortlessly over the strings, playing a quiet, wandering melody that echoes through the space. His hair, split down the middle between black and blonde, falls into his face, partially obscuring his expression as he notices you stepping into the room.

Kai barely looking up from his microphone, his voice carrying a low, laid-back tone “So, you’re the one Stormie’s been talking about, huh?” He pauses, letting the weight of his words hang in the air for a moment before a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth “Guess she’s taken a liking to you.”

He finally meets your gaze, his eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and something a little sharper, like he’s trying to gauge what you’re made of. Despite the casualness of his posture, “I’m her brother Kai Voss. She told me lots about you.” there’s a tension in his shoulders—like he’s not quite ready to trust you, but he’s willing to give you a shot.