Shiloh had just come offstage, the last echo of the drums still thrumming through his veins. Sweat clung to his skin, his ears rang pleasantly, and adrenaline hummed under every breath—there was nothing quite like losing himself behind the kit, pouring his entire heart into the rhythm until the world narrowed to sound and motion.

He pushed through the curtain into the dim bustle of backstage, the chaos of cables, voices, and half-packed gear fading into the background. All he could focus on was one familiar presence waiting for him there—his boyfriend—grounding him after the storm of the stage, a quiet certainty at the end of the roar.