Zane
The house is dim when we get back. Exhaustion hangs from our shoulders like invisible backpacks. At the studio today, we recorded a song that left our chests wide open, and we rehearsed for the upcoming concert. There's something in the air. Something unspoken. Something that lingers in the silence between sentences.
Shawn gets a call. He steps away a little—but not far enough for us not to hear.
"You're staying over there?" he asks, voice calm. "Yeah, of course. No problem. Sleep well. I love you."
He hangs up. And stands still. One second. Two.
Then he breaks.
He cries. Doesn't cover his face. Doesn't hide. He cries like he can't hold it in anymore. Like something inside him has snapped. Like his body can no longer carry what his heart has been holding.
Konnor is the first to move. He hugs him without saying a word. Maeson sits in front of him, places a hand on his knee. I sit beside him, not knowing what to do. I just know I'm scared. I don't know what that call was. I don't know if something serious happened.
Shawn breathes in gasps. Wipes his face with his sleeve.
"She said she's not coming tonight. That she's staying with the girls. And I know it sounds dramatic, but I feel like I'm losing her. Like she's drifting away. We don't even talk about the wedding anymore. Since we got to the city… I don't know. She feels tense. Distant."
Konnor looks at me. Maeson shakes his head. It's not our place to say what we think. So we listen.
"Did you tell her how you feel?" I ask gently.
"No. I've been a coward. I don't want to pressure her. But I also don't want to just sit here and watch her drift further."
Silence.
Konnor lowers his gaze, like he's searching for words on the floor.
"It's not cowardice, Shawn. It's fear. And we all have it. But if you don't speak, she won't know you're there, waiting. Sometimes silence pushes people away too."
Maeson leans in a little more. His voice is low but steady.
"Wenn loves you. That's obvious. But she's going through something big. And so are you. It's not about pressure. It's about presence. About saying 'I'm here' even when you don't know what to do."
I shift closer on the couch, look at him carefully.
"You don't have to have all the answers. You just have to be honest. If she's pulling away, maybe she needs to know you're not going anywhere."
Shawn nods, eyes red, like each word is a rope holding him up.
Konnor stands again, with that energy that always shows up when it's most needed.
"Okay. We fix this the way broken nights get fixed. Beers, music, and games. It's not therapy, but it's what we've got. And don't worry—Wenn and you are the unbreakable duo in this group. There's never going to be one without the other."
Maeson nods, heads off to grab the guitars. I turn on the console. Shawn laughs through his tears.
"Thanks, guys."
Konnor
"Beers, music, and games!" I shout, like it's the universal solution. And for me, it often has been. I know it's not ideal, that I use noise to cover the emptiness, that alcohol helps me not feel—but this time… this time I'm doing it for Shawn. And for me.
Because Vanessa rejected me. Subtly. When I said "it's not a date." And then she kissed Maeson. And I stood there, smiling like an idiot, like nothing happened, like it didn't hurt.
So yeah. I suggest beer. Because I don't know how to say "I feel invisible" without sounding pathetic.
"Who wants to lose at Mario Kart?" I yell, pulling bottles from the fridge, like noise could save us.
Zane laughs, settles into the couch like he already knows he's going to lose.
"Only if I get to be Yoshi."
Maeson returns with the guitars, bringing that calm he always carries when everything feels messy.
"After the first round, we make music. But first, let Konnor lose."
Shawn smiles, wipes his face with his sleeve, and for a while, we're just us. No promises. No fear. No weight of what's unsaid.
We play. We laugh. We sing. I improvise a rap about Shawn's romantic drama, exaggerating every verse like it's a soap opera. Zane laughs so hard he falls off the couch. Maeson plays a soft melody, like the air needs music to stay afloat. Shawn sings quietly, voice cracked but present.
And me… I feel less alone.
Shawn
When I hang up, I feel myself break. Not because of what Wenn said. Because of what she didn't. Because of what we haven't talked about. Because of what I don't know. I cry. Not out of weakness. I cry because I'm scared. Because I feel like I'm losing her. Because I don't know how to stop it.
But the guys… the guys save me. Not with words. With presence. With music. With games. With beer. With silence. Konnor hugs me without saying anything, like his body understands what my voice can't explain. Maeson touches my knee, that gesture that says "I'm here" without needing more. Zane looks at me like he's waiting for me to breathe, like his patience is a rope holding me up.
And I breathe.
We play. We laugh. I clear my head. I feel better. Not completely. But enough not to drown. Enough to remember I'm not alone.
And I decide something.
I'm going to talk to her. Directly. No detours. Because I've been a coward. Because communication matters in a relationship. Because I don't want to lose her to fear. Because if I learned anything tonight, it's that love must be defended. Even when it hurts. Even when it trembles. Even when we don't know how.
Maeson
Tonight with the guys clears my mind. It pulls me out of the uncertainty I feel with Vanessa, and the jealousy Konnor stirs in me. Even if I don't say it, I feel it. I notice it. I carry it. Like a stone in my pocket—unseen, but heavy. I try not to let it show, not to turn it into shadow. But it's there. Always.
Tonight, though, we're brothers.
Shawn cries. Konnor suggests beer. Zane turns on the console. I grab the guitars. And for a few hours, we stop being men with complicated stories and become boys who just want to laugh, sing, play, forget.
We play. We sing. We laugh. We talk about silly things, deep things, things that don't have names but live in the chest. I play soft harmonies while Shawn improvises lyrics that ache. Zane laughs so hard he falls off the couch. Konnor makes a ridiculous toast. And I… I allow myself to be. Without thinking. Without measuring. Without hiding.
When dawn falls, and we're more moving corpses than people, Zane stays up talking to his girlfriend. His voice is soft, almost whispered, like love has a nighttime tone too.
Konnor drank a bit too much. I see him wobbling, so I walk him to the bathroom, help him stay upright, splash cold water on his face. His skin is warm, his eyes lost.
"I'm fine," he says. But he's not.
I make him something warm. Bread with butter. Tea. I leave it on his nightstand. I set out pills for the hangover and a glass of water. I fix his pillow. He doesn't say thank you. He doesn't need to.
Shawn falls asleep on the couch. I watch him. His breathing is calm, like crying cleaned something inside. I cover him with a blanket. Adjust his neck. Stay there a moment, grateful he's not alone. That none of us are.
I return to my room. Lie down. Body tired. Mind lit.
I think of Vanessa. Of how she laughs with Konnor. Of how she said it wasn't a date. Of how she left him in pause. And even though it wasn't me, something in me shrinks anyway.
Because I want her close.
Because I want her free.
But also… with me.
And like that, I don't sleep all night.