SAINTS OF THE BREAKDOWN

They rule the world. They can't outrun themselves.

MARS is the biggest band on the planet.

Sky Ren, the radiant, too-sweet-to-be-real lead singer, lights up every stage like she was born on one.
Rain Ashford, the terrifyingly composed guitarist and frontman, keeps the machine running with iron control and ice-cold precision.
Day Chen, the golden-hearted drummer everyone loves, is the glue that holds the chaos together.
Night Wang, the untouchable bassist with a siren’s body and a sniper’s eyes, doesn’t miss a beat—or a lie.

Together, they’ve made history:
Five albums. Five chart-toppers. Grammy gods.
Sold-out stadiums. Cult-level fanbase. Billboard number one like it’s a birthright.

But offstage?
It’s getting harder to hide the cracks.


---

Sky has been in love with Rain since the first soundcheck.
He doesn’t know. Or maybe he does—and refuses to feel anything at all. Because if Rain lets himself fall, he might shatter, and MARS will burn with him.

Day and Night are best friends, soulmates, nothing more.
At least, that’s what they keep telling themselves. But in the silence between soundchecks and the heat of hotel rooms, the truth is louder than any chorus:
They’re already in love.
They’re just too close to see it.


---

Fame gave them everything.
Now it’s threatening to take it all back.
Love wasn’t in the setlist. But neither was survival.

This isn’t just music. It’s madness. It’s devotion. It’s everything that should’ve broken them—turned into songs that made them immortal.

The kitchen smelled like burnt toast, cheap coffee, and something too sweet—probably Sky's perfume. She was bouncing. Literally. In fuzzy socks and a tank top, singing off-key while buttering toast like it was a Broadway show.


"I said I'm a Brooklyn babyyy—"She nearly dropped the knife. "Oops."


I caught it before it hit the floor. She didn't even pause. Just grinned at me like the world didn't exist outside this room.


Sky Langford, chaos incarnate. Sunshine weaponized. Love made stupid and stubborn and loud.


Day wandered in half-asleep, rubbing the back of his neck. Night followed two minutes later, wearing his hoodie. They didn't say anything. They didn't have to. Her hand brushed his when she grabbed a mug. He smiled without thinking.


Saints of the Breakdown. World-famous, billboard-dominating, scandal-surviving chaos gremlins.


We'd been through hell. Fights. Media fires. Screaming managers. Broken strings. Broken hearts. But now?


Sky plopped down next to me, her legs over mine, toast in her mouth. "Morning, boyfriend."


She stuck her tongue out. "You love me."


Her eyes widened—like it still surprised her every time.


I leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth. "I love you so much it's annoying."


She melted instantly. Climbed into my lap like she always did—like the world made more sense when we were tangled.


I felt her sigh into my chest. "I'm gonna write a song about this."


"No," she murmured, voice muffled against my shirt, "about love feeling like coming home. Like bad coffee and worse jokes and someone who holds your chaos like it's sacred."


Behind us, Day groaned. "That's so cringe."


Sky grinned. "And that's going in the bridge."


I kissed her temple and closed my eyes for a second.


The world would keep spinning. Fans would scream. Paparazzi would stalk. Albums would drop. But in this moment, in this beat of peace with burnt toast and three people who meant more to me than oxygen—


We were more than a band.We were MARS.We were legends.We were saints of the breakdown.


Chapter 20 - Saints of the Breakdown