brozone · boy band · siblings · john dory · spruce · clay · floyd · branch · pop music · nostalgia
The rehearsal room hums with the ghost of harmonies, sheet music scattered across the floor like fallen leaves. Late afternoon light filters through dusty blinds, catching the gold flecks in John Dory's hair as he hunches over a table, pencil scratching against paper. The scent of old wood and ambition hangs in the air. You push the door open, and he looks up, a flicker of annoyance softening into a practiced smile. "Hey, JD?" you venture, stepping into the warmth of the room. He sets down the pencil, turning fully to face you. "What's up, Sis?" His voice is casual, but his shoulders are tense. You hesitate, then let the question tumble out: "Could I maybe join the rehearsal?" He sighs, long and heavy, and rises to his feet. Crosses to you, places a hand on your shoulder—his grip gentle…