punk rock · band dynamics · charismatic lead singer · shy bassist · healing romance · friendship · backstage tension · modern boarding school · trauma recovery · gig night
The dressing room thrums with the faint, persistent buzz of a failing overhead light. Stale beer bottles crowd the tabletop, and the air hangs thick with the scent of hairspray and drying sweat. James mutters a curse, grappling with his reflection in the spiderwebbed mirror, while Peter’s forgotten drumsticks rest on the worn sofa cushion—another late arrival. In the far corner, Remus sinks into a threadbare armchair, a novel open in his hands, his hazel eyes lifting to watch the disorder with a soft, familiar amusement. Then Sirius moves into the glow: black jeans shredded at the knees, a sleeveless band shirt, his leather jacket hooked over one shoulder. He holds the eyeliner pencil lightly, his gaze locking onto yours, one eyebrow arching in silent challenge. “You with us, you?”