Sleep didn't come easily.
Aiven lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, phone resting on his chest like a weight. Every small sound outside made his muscles tense—the hum of a passing car, footsteps in the hallway, a door closing somewhere below. He kept replaying the message in his head.
This is only the beginning.
He rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. He didn't want to tell Raze everything yet. Not because he didn't trust him—but because he knew how Raze would react. He'd blame himself. He always did.
Across the city, Raze paced his room like a caged animal.
Zenith sat at the small table near the window, watching him quietly. He hadn't said much since Raze told him about the message, but his silence was heavy, dangerous.
"You should sleep," Zenith said finally.
Raze stopped pacing. "How?"
Zenith didn't answer. There wasn't one.
"I knew this would happen," Raze muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I just didn't think it would be this soon."
Zenith's gaze sharpened. "Fans crossing lines isn't your fault."
Raze let out a bitter laugh. "Tell that to him."
Zenith leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced. "Is he scared?"
Raze hesitated. "He didn't say it. But I know he is."
Zenith nodded slowly. "Then we move carefully. No impulsive decisions."
Raze looked at him. "You mean I don't make impulsive decisions."
Zenith's lips twitched faintly. "Exactly."
At the café the next morning, Aiven tried to act normal.
Miss Liora noticed immediately.
"You're quieter than usual," she said gently as Aiven handed a customer their drink.
"I didn't sleep much," Aiven replied, forcing a small smile.
She studied him for a moment longer than necessary but didn't push. "Take your break early today."
Aiven nodded gratefully and stepped outside, the cool air brushing against his face. He checked his phone. No new messages. That should have been comforting—but it wasn't.
Draven appeared beside him moments later, coffee in hand. "You look like hell."
"Good morning to you too," Aiven said dryly.
Draven took one look at his face and frowned. "Okay. That wasn't a joke. What happened?"
Aiven hesitated, then quietly showed him the messages.
Draven's expression darkened instantly.
"They followed you," he said flatly.
"I think so."
Draven exhaled sharply. "Damn it."
Aiven looked at him. "Don't tell Raze everything. Not yet."
Draven turned, eyes sharp. "Why?"
"Because he'll panic," Aiven said softly. "And if he panics, things get messy."
Draven didn't like it—but he nodded. "Fine. But if this escalates, we stop protecting everyone else's feelings."
Aiven knew he was right.
At rehearsal, Raze missed a step for the first time in weeks.
The music cut abruptly.
"Again," Zenith said calmly, but his eyes were on Raze.
They danced through it once more, then twice, until sweat soaked through their clothes. When Zenith finally called for a break, Raze dropped onto the floor, breathing hard.
"You're distracted," Zenith said quietly, sitting beside him.
Raze didn't deny it. "I hate this."
Zenith studied him. "You love him."
Raze looked away. "That's the problem."
Zenith was silent for a moment. Then, softer, "Loving someone always is."
Later that evening, Draven walked home with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, thoughts heavy. His phone buzzed.
Zenith.
Draven stopped walking.
Zenith: Are you okay?
Draven stared at the screen, thumb hovering.
Draven: Why do you keep asking that?
The reply came slower this time.
Zenith: Because I notice when you're not.
Draven swallowed.
Draven: You shouldn't.
Zenith: Maybe I don't care what I should do.
Draven's chest tightened. He typed, deleted, typed again.
Draven: This isn't simple.
Zenith: I know.
That answer scared him more than anything else.
That night, Aiven stood at his window, watching the street below. Nothing seemed out of place—but that didn't mean he felt safe. He pressed his forehead lightly against the glass.
His phone buzzed.
Raze: I wish I could be there.
Aiven closed his eyes.
Aiven: I know. That's enough for now.
They stayed like that—connected by messages, distance stretching painfully between them.
Somewhere nearby, a shadow lingered longer than it should have.
And far above them all, Velric watched the situation unfold with calculated interest, already thinking several steps ahead.
The line had been crossed.
And no one would come out of this unchanged.