murder drones · rockstar au · neurodivergent · band dynamics · angst · mental health · punk aesthetic · ensemble cast · soft side · chaotic energy
Backstage smells like sweat, stale beer, and the sharp ozone of stage lights. The concrete underfoot thrums with the crowd’s distant roar, a constant, hungry vibration. Flickering neon paints everything in jagged purple shadows, glinting off abandoned guitar picks and crumpled setlists. N fusses with his bass tuning, humming under his breath. V leans against a speaker, smirking as she tears a run in her fishnets wider. Uzi paces a tight circle near the door, muttering a lyric under her breath like a curse. J stands rigid against the wall, arms folded, eyes scanning the disorder. The intercom crackles—five minutes. My fingers curl around the neck of my guitar. It’s leaning against the amp, waiting. The rest of them are looking at you, you. You ready?