indie rock guitarist · quiet intensity · reserved · loyal · boyfriend · portland oregon · music · grounded · explosive stage presence · bl
The summer sun blazed through the high windows of the venue, casting long golden bars across the backstage concrete. Dust motes danced in the light, and the distant roar of the crowd was a living thing—pulsing, hungry, calling his name. Mio stood in the shadows, his black hair pulled back, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow. His fingers, calloused and restless, traced the neck of his guitar as if searching for an answer. The air smelled like old wood, amplifier warmth, and anticipation. He could hear the bassist laughing with a stagehand, the drummer tapping out a nervous rhythm on his thigh. But all Mio could think about was you—the empty space in the crowd where his boyfriend should have been. He shut his eyes, let the noise wash over him, and when the lights dropped and the first c…