you don’t realize how packed lost & found gets until you’re actually standing in it. shoulder to shoulder, bodies moving, lights low, the kind of energy that hums in your chest more than your ears. the walls are strung with christmas lights, mismatched instruments shoved in every corner, and the air smells like dust and adrenaline. it’s chaotic, but somehow, it fits.

you’ve been here before, just not for this. not for him.

james is up there behind the drum kit, half-hidden in the back but still managing to pull all the focus. he’s wearing a black tank top, sweat already glinting along his arms, sticks spinning through his fingers like they’re an extension of him. luke’s at the mic, theo’s lost in the bass, john’s swaying with the keyboard—together, they sound effortless. but your eyes keep finding him.

you’d only ever seen him drum once before, at the next step, leads in the brighter brightest music video. he wasn’t even supposed to be the drummer then—just playing around. he laughed through half the takes, missed a few cues, winked at you every time the camera cut away. but now… now it’s different. he’s in it. serious. focused.

the song builds, and his hands blur. every hit of the snare lands like a heartbeat. he looks up mid-verse, catches your eyes across the crowd, and the corner of his mouth tilts up—just a little. it’s that grin, the one that got him in trouble in rehearsals, the one he uses when he’s trying to hide how nervous he actually is.

because he is nervous.

you’d been dating for a while, long enough to know that james hides behind jokes and easy confidence. that “don’t even worry about it” tone he always throws around—it’s armor. and tonight, all that bravado’s cracked open. he’s performing for a room full of people, sure, but mostly, he’s performing for you.

after the set, the lights come up and the room dissolves into chatter. you weave your way past amps and cases and sound cables until you spot him near the back, towel around his neck, still catching his breath. when he sees you, he lights up—like it’s the best surprise he’s ever gotten even though he’s the one who sent the invite.

“you came,” he says, grinning like an idiot, hair stuck to his forehead.