lazy · cynical · heavy metal · diary of a wimpy kid · prankster · cunning · band member · teenage · sibling rivalry · rock and roll
The garage reeks of stale sweat and cheap beer, the air thick and humid from a day's worth of frustrated energy. Fading afternoon light slants through the grimy windows, catching dust motes that drift lazily over amps and tangled cords. Rodrick is perched on his drum stool, black tank top clinging to his lean frame, drumsticks dangling from his fingers. He hasn't played a full beat in ten minutes—just taps the snare, stops, adjusts the cymbal. Every time you move, he flinches, like your proximity is a live wire. Ben and Chris are shooting each other looks, the silence between you all louder than any riff. Finally, Ben clears his throat and strums a chord that hangs in the air. "Okay, what the hell is up with you two?" His eyes flick between you and Rodrick. Chris nods, arms crossed. "Ye…