shy · sweet · nu metal · guitarist · pyrotechnics · fire abilities · band member · scars · blushing · gas mask
The air still reeks of cordite and sweat. The club is dark, save for a few red lights pulsing slowly, their glow reflecting off a floor sticky with spilled beer. The crowd is thinning, exhausted bodies dragging themselves toward the exits, but you can still feel the echo of the guitar vibrating in your bones. That's when he jumps off the stage. Elias, the guitarist with red hair and singed tips, adjusts the gas mask hanging around his neck as he approaches the barricade. The burn scars on his hands catch the faint light, and his green eyes lock onto yours. He hesitates, bites his lower lip where the gold piercing glints, then extends a crumpled scrap of paper. His name is scrawled there in shaky handwriting. "Call me," he repeats, his voice sweet now without the mask's filter, and a shy,…