TBD

The first chord slammed into the crowd like a pulse.

It was loud, raw, and unapologetically fast—exactly the kind of sound Ophelia lived for. She was already moving to the beat, her hips swaying before the second note even hit.

I wasn’t moving.

Because my gaze had just landed on the guy holding the mic.

Familiar blue eyes.

Teddy.

My stomach flipped, quick and sharp.

He looked different under the stage lights—taller somehow, sharper. He was wearing all black again, sleeves rolled just enough to show off forearms that knew their way around a guitar. The curls that had fallen into his eyes earlier were now wild with movement, and his voice—

It was him.

He didn’t say a word about this.

Not a clue that he was the lead singer of No Name—the band we came here to see. And yet there he was, gripping the mic with that cocky half-grin like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he’d planned the reveal, left out the detail on purpose, just to see my reaction now.

I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or annoyed.

Okay—impressed. But still.

The crowd surged forward, packed shoulder to shoulder now. Girls screamed his name—well, not his name. No Name’s name. But the way they screamed, it was definitely for him.

He ate it up, the cocky bastard. A wink here, a smirk there, like he knew he was the spark in the room.

Then the band ripped into a cover of Basket Case by Green Day and the place lost it.

I leaned toward Ellie and shouted over the chaos, “That’s the guy I was talking to!”

She gasped, eyes huge. “No way! That’s him? He is so hot.”

Before I could say anything else, she grabbed my hand like she was about to drag me into battle.

“Wait—shots first,” I said, flagging the bartender down.

Ellie threw her head back laughing, and seconds later, two tequila shots hit the bar in tiny, salt-rimmed glasses. I clinked mine against hers and downed it.

The tequila was sharp and fiery, blooming warmth down my throat and into my chest. The music vibrated through my bones, and for a second, I stopped overthinking.

I was here. I was with Ellie. And the guy I definitely wasn’t trying to think about too much was now shouting Green Day lyrics into a microphone like he was born to do it.

Screw it.

I took a quick pull from my vape pen, the piney-sweet flavor grounding me. Then I let Ellie yank me into the sea of people, arms lifted, boots stomping.

She squealed like a teenager, dancing wild and unbothered, and finally—I let myself go with her.

My body moved before my mind caught up.

And just like that, I was dancing too.

The crowd moved like a wave, heat pulsing through the packed room, every beat of the drums vibrating through the floorboards and up my legs. Ellie was living her best life—arms in the air, curls bouncing, shouting every lyric like she’d waited her whole life to scream them.

I moved with her, tequila humming warm in my blood, vape cloud still soft in my chest. The music wasn’t really my thing—too punk, too chaotic—but the energy? The way the crowd fed off every chord? That part was addicting.

Or maybe it was the way Teddy looked at me.

Yeah. That.

His eyes found me mid-song, locking on like I was the only person in the room. He didn’t smile. Didn’t wink. Just stared—focused, intense, like I was part of the setlist. It sent a slow burn crawling over my skin.

I played it cool. Kept dancing. Let my hips sway a little slower, a little deeper. Every flick of my hair, every sway of my body—I did it knowing he was watching.

And damn, I liked it.

Ellie leaned in during a break between songs, breathless. “Okay, that drummer?” She nodded toward the guy behind the kit, shirtless and sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead. “I think he has a cute thing going on. I call dibs.”

I laughed. “You don’t even know his name.”

“That’s what introductions are for, mija. Don’t ruin this for me.”

The band launched into Basket Case and the room exploded, every voice belting the lyrics like it was a collective therapy session. I couldn’t stop smiling. Couldn’t stop moving.

When the song ended, the room erupted in cheers.

Teddy stepped forward, one hand gripping the mic stand like it belonged to him. Which it totally did. That boy looked made for a stage. The lights hit him just right—sweaty curls, flushed cheeks, that casual confidence that made him look untouchable.

“Thanks for coming out tonight,” he said into the mic, voice smooth and low and maybe a little smug. “You guys are insane. We love you.”

The place went nuts. Ellie shrieked beside me like we were at a One Direction reunion tour.

Teddy let the noise simmer before speaking again. “And to everyone who’s followed us since the beginning—especially our ride-or-die fans—this next one’s for you. It’s an original.”

His eyes lifted, and for a second, they landed on me again.

I felt it in my stomach.

Then the lights shifted. The room held its breath. And the music began.

He wrapped his fingers around the mic, took a breath, and leaned in.

“This next one’s an original. Hope you’re ready to get loud.”

The first notes hit like a spark—gritty, fast, the kind of riff that grabs you by the collar. The crowd surged forward. So did my heart.

I didn’t even realize I was still dancing until I felt the rhythm deep in my spine. My hair stuck to the back of my neck, my chest rising and falling fast. Beside me, Ellie was laser-locked on her drummer crush, eyes wide and greedy.

Teddy’s voice sliced through the noise—low and rough, like smoke catching on gravel.

“I was born with a target on my back,

Silver spoon, golden trap.

They said ‘Sign here, make us proud,’

But I’d rather burn it down than bow…”

I sucked in a breath. The lyrics hit different. Sharp and raw.

And then the chorus dropped.

“So I run loud, louder than their chains,

Scream my name in the pouring rain.”

The crowd exploded. Everyone was singing. Screaming. Living.

“Give me the lights, give me the sound,

I’ll take the fall just to stand my ground.

If I go down, I’ll go down proud—

I was born to run loud!”

Goosebumps lit up my arms.

He wasn’t just some guy in a band. He wasn’t just a flirt with a pretty face and clever hands.

He was something bigger.

And he hadn’t said a word about it.

He didn’t look at me again, not this time. He was in the zone—high on the crowd, the music, the chaos. And I was still moving. Still dancing.

But now? Now I was definitely thinking about him.

___________

Forty-five minutes later, sweat-drenched and buzzing, No Name wrapped with a blistering encore—Fat Lip by Sum 41. The place went feral. I think I screamed every word. Or maybe I just mouthed them while watching Teddy stalk the stage like he owned it.

Which, at that point, he kinda did.

By the time the amps died down, my voice was gone and my chest was still thudding. I didn’t know if it was the music or the way Teddy had looked at me right before the final note.

Like he’d known I’d still be watching.

The crowd loosened, people peeling away for drinks and bathroom breaks. Ophelia looped her arm through mine.

“Bar?”

“Hell yes.”

We pushed through the crowd and found a spot at the counter. Tequila sodas this time. We clinked glasses and drank like we were celebrating something.

Maybe we were.

“I need air,” I said, nodding toward the back.

She led me through a door that opened onto a tiny patio strung with yellow fairy lights. A couple of smokers lingered by the fence, but the space was mostly ours.

“Where to next?” she asked, leaning on the railing.

I took a drag from my vape, pine-lemon curling into my lungs.

“Not sure yet. Maybe Canada. Or Greece.”

She raised an eyebrow. “International now, huh?”

“I’ve hit every state. Feels like time.”

Her smile wavered. “So you’re just gonna peace out of the country on me?”

“You can come with,” I said, nudging her.

She snorted. “I’ve got a job. A hot, emotionally unavailable boss. You know—roots.”

I laughed. “Right. Can’t abandon your slow-burn office romance.”

She didn’t laugh back. Just looked at me.

“You ever gonna tell me when I’ll see you again?”

I looked up at the sky. “You can come see me whenever. I mean it.”

“That’s not the same, Blue.”

No. It wasn’t. But I didn’t know how to do the other thing—the staying part. The reliable part. I didn’t trust myself with that kind of responsibility.

Before I could figure out how to say any of that out loud, her phone lit up.

She groaned. “It’s him.”

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? It’s past midnight.”

“Perks of being on salary,” she muttered, already stepping toward the gate. “Back in a sec.”

And just like that, I was alone. I leaned back against the fence, taking another long pull from my pen. My head tipped back, eyes closed, the air buzzing with leftover energy from the show.

“Hey there, sunshine.”

I cracked one eye open.

Oh god. Polo shirt. Backwards hat. Red solo cup energy.

“You fall from heaven or just wander off the tour bus?”

“Seriously?” I deadpanned.

He grinned like he thought I was playing hard to get. “C’mon. I know a rooftop with a view.”

“I’m good,” I said, turning away.

His hand caught my arm. Tight.

Too tight.

I didn’t even think—my body wound up, my fist halfway to his nose—

“Hey, babe. Sorry I took so long.”

The voice was low. Calm. Familiar.

I turned, and there was Teddy, sliding between us like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arm slipped around my waist, anchoring me, and he stared the guy down without blinking.

“She’s with me,” he said, polite smile not quite reaching his eyes.

The guy backed off immediately, hands in the air. “Didn’t know, man. Sorry.”

The gate clicked shut behind him. The patio fell quiet again.

Teddy’s arm stayed around me for a second longer, then loosened—but not completely.

“You okay?” he asked.

My pulse was still rioting. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He glanced toward the gate. “Guy was a tool.”

I looked at him, still trying to figure out how he’d appeared out of nowhere like some kind of leather-jacketed guardian angel.

“Do you always show up like that? On cue?”

He smirked. “Only for girls who don’t give out their numbers.”

The door creaked open again behind us, and this time it wasn’t some drunk dude with weak game—it was the rest of the band.

Teddy straightened as they stepped out, nodding toward the tall guy with jet-black hair pulled back in a low bun. “That’s Thomas—drummer, chaos coordinator, walking tattoo gallery.”

Thomas gave a lazy salute, both arms on full display—ink from wrist to shoulder, bold lines and dark florals that looked like they might move if he did.

“And that’s Brody,” Teddy continued, nodding toward the redhead beside him.

Brody was all freckles and charm, a mess of curls and a crooked grin that said he knew exactly how adorable he was. “I’m on bass. I provide the heart and the hips.”

Just then, the door behind me swung open again. Ophelia stepped out, phone still in hand, frowning down at her screen.

“Ugh,” she muttered. “He’s the devil in a Patagonia vest. I swear—oh.” Her gaze lifted, locking on Teddy first, then trailing to Thomas and Brody behind him. “Whoa.”

I smirked. “Perfect timing. Ellie, meet Teddy.”

Her brows jumped. “This is Teddy?”

He gave her a small smile. “The one and only.”

I gestured between everyone else. “And this is Thomas—drummer—and Brody on bass. Boys, this is Ophelia. My other half. She bites, but only when she likes you.”

Thomas’s eyes lit up, clearly enjoying the intro. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Ellie crossed her arms, grinning. “So, you’re the one trying to break your own drum kit every night.”

“I call it performance art.”

Brody leaned toward me with a wink. “Should we leave them alone, or…?”

I snorted. “Let her have her moment.”

“Moment?” Ellie asked. “I’m making lifelong memories.”

Brody laughed and nodded toward the street. “We’re heading to The Other Room. You two in?”

Ellie tilted her head. “What happened to The Room?”

Brody sighed dramatically. “Couldn’t handle the vibe.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’m in.”

“I need to check on Tyler first,” I said, tugging my phone from my pocket.

“I’ll walk you,” Teddy offered without hesitation.

Ellie’s eyes practically sparkled. “Perfect. I’ll go with Thomas and Brody.”

“Location share,” I said, already opening the app.

“Already on it.” Ellie shot me a look. “Don’t get kidnapped.”

“Please,” I said. “You’re way more kidnap-able.”

We bumped shoulders, exchanged a look that said be safe, and then she spun on her heel, heading off with her new drummer crush and his freckled sidekick.