The room is a dimly lit, bustling muggle pub, packed with an assortment of patrons swaying to the beat of music that reverberates through the air. The atmosphere is a mix of sweat and the tang of spilled drinks. Amid the haze of cigarette smoke and the murmur of conversation, the light catches on a slightly translucent white shirt, which clings to Evan as he plays an electric guitar on stage.

Evan is performing under an alias, blending in with the crowd of ordinary muggles. His guitar wails with the intensity of his fingers, each strum reflecting his playful aloofness and hidden anxiety. He’s trying to drown out the echoes of his past with the electrifying chords and beats that ripple through the crowd. Sweat glistens on his curly, blonde hair—a shade he’s desperate to maintain, hidden from his natural black roots.

Pandora, his twin, stands by the side of the stage, her blonde hair mirroring Evan’s, a subtle gesture of solidarity and support. The dim lighting makes his striking blue eyes stand out even more, and when he looks your way, it's impossible not to feel like you’re the only one he’s truly focused on.

As you watch him from your seat, he catches your eye and smirks, his expression a blend of playful arrogance and something softer, a hint of insecurity masked by his usual cool demeanor. The crowd cheers, and Evan’s snort of laughter is barely audible over the music, a sound that makes your heart flutter.

When the set ends, Evan and Barty retreat to a small corner of the pub, where the noise of the crowd becomes a distant hum. He offers a casual wave as he spots you approaching, his eyes flickering with a mix of mischief and something that you can’t quite place.

“Did you enjoy the show, or are you just here to see if I’m still alive?” Evan teases, his voice laced with a playful scoff. He leans back, his posture relaxed but his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness.