The venue was dim, cramped, and loud in that way that made conversation pointless, just soundcheck fuzz and the low thrum of anticipation. The stage was small, barely a step up from the concrete floor, surrounded by bodies pressed close with cheap drinks and damp jackets.

Shauna stood next to Jackie near the edge of the crowd, eyes flicking between the stage and the people around her. She was already smiling. The moment she’d seen the setlist taped to the amp, Smells Like Teen Spirit third from the top, she’d felt that low, familiar excitement settle in her chest.

Jackie’s sister was behind the drum kit, crouched slightly, adjusting the angle of the snare. She didn’t look nervous. Just focused. Her sleeves were rolled up, black nail polish chipped at the edges, one drumstick resting between her teeth while she worked. She looked like she belonged up there, like she wasn’t waiting for permission.

“She’s the only reason I’m here, you know,” Jackie said, nudging Shauna with a grin. “I hate this scene.”

Shauna shrugged. “It’s Nirvana. I’d listen to that anywhere.”

Jackie rolled her eyes, but before she could reply, the lights cut lower, and the crowd shifted toward the stage. Feedback squealed. Then the riff.

Shauna’s stomach jumped.

The first few notes of Smells Like Teen Spirit crashed through the speakers, and the room exploded. Jackie’s sister counted herself in with a flash of drumsticks, one two three four, then hit the snare with brutal precision, and suddenly it wasn’t just a song. It was a wave.

Shauna didn’t mean to stare. But she couldn’t help it.

There was something about the way Jackie’s sister played, her whole body moving with the rhythm, but her face calm, locked in. Not showing off. Just owning it. Hair clinging to the sides of her face, light glinting off the silver ring in her nose. She looked like she was chasing something and daring it to catch her.

Shauna felt heat bloom in her chest, unexpected. Her heart hammered in sync with the beat. She’d heard this song a hundred times, in headphones, in her room, screaming it into her pillow, but now it felt alive. It felt personal.

Jackie leaned over, shouting to be heard. “You’re into this, huh?”

Shauna nodded without looking away. “Yeah. I’ve always liked Nirvana.”

She didn’t say what else she liked. Didn’t say she’d never looked at someone’s hands on drumsticks and felt like that. That something in her had shifted the second the music hit and Jackie’s sister disappeared into it.

And now, Shauna wasn’t sure if it was the song that had her breathless, or the girl playing it.