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The heat of the sun fell without mercy over the hoodie that Nico was wearing. It was a dark-green relic from his high school days, which he could have avoided packing for the show, but if he did that for all his clothes that had seen better days, he’d have nothing to wear.
After exchanging looks with a man jogging who was thankfully not Orion, the singer adjusted the hood over his head and shoved both hands in his pockets, casting a glance toward the ocean.
It had been a while since Battle of the Bands last filmed at a location by the sea. Nico thought the atmosphere was great, yet the size of the crowds that gathered on site never failed to shock him. Out in the open, keeping a low profile was mandatory, but being so covered under the sun made him feel like getting battered on an anvil.
On the bright side, I guess it could always be hotter!
Nico wiped his brow with the back of his hand, the optimism slowly starting to sweat off his body. It didn’t help that the boardwalk was filled with normal people as well, doing all sorts of normal activities like walking their dog, riding a bike, or carrying a surfboard under their arm. He couldn’t remember the last time he went swimming in something other than a shallow hotel pool, but for the time being he just headed to the other, more shaded side of the street.
Jay-walking wasn’t a great idea when trying to go unnoticed, but it immediately became worth it once Nico felt the first touch of cool graze his face. With a relieved sigh, he slipped inside one of the side streets without looking back, hoping not to have caught the attention of any BotB fans on the hunt.
What was it with him and getting lost in big cities by himself? After a few more steps, he leaned against a busy-looking shop window and checked if anyone had spotted him. No signs of commotion.
I’m getting good at this, at least.
Blowing out his breath, Nico took off his pair of eyeglasses. The square lenses weren’t that dirty, but he still wiped them thoroughly with his shirt, lifting them up to check for any missed spots. All he could see was a deep blue sky, still and empty save for one small plane.
Looking back at the promenade, the setting wasn’t half bad: the palms and the stretch of sand leading to the ocean gave a cozy, almost utopic impression. He wondered what it would be like to spend a vacation there, instead of having to hide from TV producers.
I should really get a pair of sunglasses…
Battle of the Bands was above all a reality show. It was built upon the drama, and Nico knew that. That’s why he didn’t object when Cory asked him to stay nice and available to film some… lightly scripted scenes as soon as the buses reached the hotel. He was just one golden goose of many in this season, while the rest of his bandmates were not. All he could do was encourage his friends to take advantage of the precious free time, and not stay confined in the hotel along with him.
But now, after suffering what felt like hours of standing around without any actual shooting, Nico had to spend his walkout alone… or with Oliver, but that idea made the stressful set sound appealing in comparison.
Just as he considered sending a message on the band’s group chat, the front door of the store next to him snapped open.
“I can’t believe they didn’t have Versus…”
Pope and Kieran stepped out into the street, accompanied by a faint melodic sound coming from the store. The two were lost in conversation, and did not seem to notice Nico’s lanky frame frozen in place right next to them.
Once they started moving away, the singer let go of whatever thought he had of saying hello. He definitely enjoyed Soft Violence music, but even now he had to admit that the idea of hanging out with members of Seven’s band by himself wasn’t very smart.
After the two had left, Nico turned around to take a closer look at the store he’d been standing in front of, where he was met with a wide array of music memorabilia: prints, T-shirts, and plenty of vintage records all greeted him from behind the glass, with a switched-off neon sign above them that read ‘Queenvoice - music and vinyl shop’
The vibe was a little tacky, but the crowd of popular faces singing their hearts out had an allure that he had no reason to ignore, besides the limited space in his suitcase, and the dwindling funds at his disposal after many weeks on tour.
Still, browsing doesn’t cost anything… and there’s bound to be some form of air conditioning, right?
Without further need for debate, Nico opened the door and stepped inside the shop.
“Welcome to– whoa, Rosebuddd!!! Is it?”
The singer staggered back, blindsided by his stage name. The voice had come from a young man behind the counter, who wore a Hawaiian shirt that left no doubts on his geekyness. Not that Nico could judge him, considering all the unremarkable clothing he wore on and off stage alike.
“–Yup! That’s me…” Nico answered, trying as best as he could to hide his regret for having entered.
How the fuck am I going to keep a low profile in here?! It's basically a music temple, and the Hawaiian shirt cashier is the high priest.
“Niceee… Must be my lucky day. Happy browsing!”
The clerk turned back to his thick monitor, keeping a self-satisfied smile on his face.
Nico stared at him for a few more seconds of high alert, yet no other pushy employees appeared, no legions of fans burst through the doors at the exchange… nothing at all.
“I– um, thanks.”
Holy crap.
Free of the infamy that came with his profession, the singer turned his attention back to the shop. On the inside, Queenvoice wasn’t much different from how one would imagine it: there were more posters of famous singers lining the walls (three of which showed Gina in different periods of her career), a labyrinth of waist-high racks filled with records, and as many as two other customers tucked at the far end of the store, one of whom started waving at him.
“Hey Nico!” Avina called out. Next to them, Seven.
Terror burst inside the singer once he realized the trap he’d fallen into, masterfully set up by his own foolish self. He had just seen Pope and Kieran leave the store, how did he not put two and two together?!
“Oh, hello!” Nico forced out, managing to wave back at Avina.
Lord have mercy, I have no idea what I’m doing.
Next to the guitarist, Seven only gave a half-nod in greeting without looking up from the stack of vinyl she was rummaging through. It wasn’t much, but still unusual from Nico’s experience.
Now that pleasantries had been exchanged, Nico tore his gaze away and shoved his hands in the furthest depths of his pockets, making his way through the aisles to the polar opposite side of the shop. Which wasn't very far, but just enough to avoid overhearing what the other two contestants were talking about, and hopefully regain his composure before any further interaction plagued with awkwardness took place.
I could always make a run for it… but maybe I should at least pretend to look at the goods for a minute.
Gathering the courage to go through with his plan, the singer looked down at the pile of records, where he was greeted by a plump face with thick blond mustaches and a white cowboy hat. He was in the Country section.
This is a nightmare.
Nico scratched his cheek, mourning the mainstream bands in the shop window already. With a furtive glance, he confirmed that besides him, Seven, and Avina, there were no other customers in the store. Time to move a couple aisles.
Around the corner, legions of intricate covers paraded in front of the singer's eyes. Death metal, symphonic metal, hard rock– Then a familiar face stopped him dead in his tracks.
Right at the front of a pristine shelf, the black and white picture of Blake Winter took center stage on the cover of the most popular Underground Wastebasket album.
Even Disaster Street was nowhere to be found. There was just Blake. Amazing how she managed to taunt him even without her physical presence…
Despite a growing desire to disintegrate, Nico surrendered with a sigh. At the end of the day, it made sense to ride the wave of popularity that Battle of the Bands brought by filming only a few blocks away, even if 90% of the audience didn’t care about the actual music of the contestants…
“Look out Nico!! There are some UWB albums in that section!”
Avina’s warning ripped Nico from his thoughts so suddenly that he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll watch out, thanks for the warning!”
The guitarist gave him a thumbs up. “Anytime! I had to stop Seven from walking out after she saw one. Isn’t that right Sev?”
Their friend sighed, still keeping her sight on the records in front of her. "No."
Nico had to hide his smile at the two’s banter. Since the week's challenge hadn't been announced yet, the atmosphere lacked most of the suspicion that normally hung over the three contestants. Seven and Avina were not… Triple, but the lack of conflict was so refreshing to him that, without thinking, he began to inch closer and closer to their side of the store.
“Anyway, let’s forget about Blake,” Avina proclaimed, waving a hand dismissively. “This is the one I was telling you about.”
Nico watched the guitarist hold up a vinyl with an elaborate cover in front of them, as if submitting it for their friend’s approval.
Seven shrugged. “It‘s alright.”
The lukewarm response made Avina frown. “Its genius simply escapes you. Nico, you’re the alt-rock guy. This is cool, right?”
The singer’s eyebrow shot up to the ceiling. He did not expect Avina of all people to involve him in their discussion, but since he recognized the cover of Muse's The Resistance…
“Um, I guess there are some pretty good songs in there.”
“Thank you,” Avina replied, seeming happy enough with the statement. “Now, it’s between these two… Muse doesn’t have a drummer doubling as lead singer, after all.”
They pulled out another record from a few rows to the side, weighing the two in each hand with a pensive expression. Since Nico didn’t recognize the second vinyl’s cover, he refrained from commenting further.
“…More of a jazzy kind of album.”
Nico froze, turning his head towards the other singer. Was that accidental, or did Seven just make a joke?
Even if he was very close to the rack that Seven was inspecting, she failed to notice his dumbfounded expression, having immediately gotten back to her hunt. Whatever she was looking for had to be very underground, considering how long she’d stayed in that same aisle.
“You think so? Hmm...” Avina bit their lip, seemingly unaware of the humor in their friend’s statement. “What do you think, Nico?”
The singer cleared his throat. “I- can’t help you there, sorry... I’ve never heard of that other one.”
Avina shrugged. “Oh well. When wisdom and valor fail, all that remains is comparing the prices…”
They proceeded to turn both items in search of the price tag, but yielded no results. “HEY! How much is– you know what, I think I’ll just go up to the cashier, I don’t want to be rude.”
Nico followed the guitarist with his gaze as they moved out of earshot. Swallowing a lump of nervousness, he wondered about the inexplicable circumstances that led to this scenario.
It didn’t take long before he gave in to the temptation and stole a glance at Seven, but the other singer showed no signs of annoyance beyond her usual stiffness… or maybe he was the one being stiff, but he averted his eyes too quickly to be able to judge.
Damn it Nico! Get it together. WWOD?
But none of Orion’s advice seemed of any use. He couldn't play it cool. There was no joke to make that did not feel out of place, no external aspect to comment on that didn't feel forced.
Nico bit his cheek, trying his hardest to get back to browsing while the quiet stretched longer and longer. His mind, on the other hand, was everything but silent.
Damn it. This is pathetic.
Why couldn’t he just scroll through a pile of records? What was it that after weeks on the tour, and years before then, still affected him to the point he could not even focus? He was being unfair to himself AND to her, knowing what she asked during their talk on the balcony.
He had stayed long enough already. Nico let his hand fall from the vinyl rack, but right when he was about to step away, Seven broke the silence.
"So, did you come here to hide, or is there something you want to tell me?”
Nico almost jumped, immediately overthinking what the question was trying to imply. The fact that she wasn’t looking at him didn’t help.
“N– no, I… Sorry, I was really just browsing. I’ll stop bothering you in just a minute.” God, please let it not be more cheating rumors.
“What?” Seven turned towards him, a crease appearing between her brows. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not trying to kick you out of the store.”
Oh.
The other singer crossed her arms, looking back down at the rack. “Oh indeed.”
There was a moment of pause, then Seven took a deep breath.
“How did–”
“-I didn’t expect... whoops, sorry,” Nico gestured for her to speak first.
“It’s fine. Was the trip long?”
Nico scratched the back of his neck. Talk about a casual question... “It felt like it, I guess. But all the buses have gotten here a while ago, the producers just wanted the lead singers to hang back for filming.”
“Hm. Seems like I got lucky,” Seven replied, her tone dry.
“Sure," Nico humored her, "just be careful not to get too used to the private jet.”
Seven opened her mouth to speak, but then halted for a second as if conflicted about the question she was about to make.
“...How did it feel, to win? After the first week, I mean.”
Once again, Nico was caught off guard by the question, but he had started to accept it as part of having a conversation with the other singer. “Hm, well…”
As he tried to gather his thoughts on the time when Mirror in the Creek won back at the beginning of the tour, Seven spoke up again.
“You don’t– need to answer.”
Without meeting his gaze, she raised a hand to adjust the bandana in her dishevelled hair, a gesture that Nico had seldom seen from her.
Of course he was going to answer. As far apart as they had drifted, somehow their paths still managed to be as close as when they first started.
Nico allowed himself a bitter smile. “I’d probably say the thrill is short-lived, if that’s what you’re referring to.”
Seven nodded, her expression unreadable. “Yes, it is.”
“We did win a while ago, so maybe this week will prove me wrong.” Nico clarified with a shrug. “I just hope it won’t be as bad as the previous one.”
“The last challenge wasn’t your style... You could tell.” Seven cleared her throat, the comment possibly not meant to have spilled out. “Still, I’m kind of curious about the next one.”
Nico shifted his gaze away as well, staring back at the records in front of him.
“Me too…”
He did look forward to composing and facing off with the other bands. Despite all the shady tactics of the producers, the clashing personalities, and the drama that flowed through it all, he liked the challenge, to bring his band together each week and deliver something worth remembering on stage.
“Less the whole filming part,” Nico added with a hint of humor.
Seven wrinkled her nose. “Pretty sure there’s not one person on this tour who enjoys that."
She then crossed her arms, turning towards Nico. "With that said, I would have probably picked a better hiding spot than the record store, if I were you."
"What?! I didn't say I was here to hide..."
The other singer gave him an unconviced look.
"Oh come on, maybe I just... changed my mind about vinyl! And how posh and overpriced they can be," Nico protested, crossing his arms as well.
Seven tilted her head. "That would suck. The show hasn't turned us into Gina enough to have that opinion."
"Ouch." He had forgotten about Seven’s more pragmatic side, among many other things.
"To give credit where it’s due, I didn’t see anything too crazy at the penthouse where I got kidnapped.” Nico used air-quotes for the last word. “It wasn’t like that one producer. You remember that office…”
“Yes, I remember." Seven was quick to reply. She then turned toward the register, casting a glance toward her friend. “…Avina would definitely have liked it,” she added, almost to herself.
Nico was surprised at how much he was discovering about the new Seven just through this small cranny that she happened to open up. It sort of stung how she immediately thought of Soft Violence when sharing experiences of being in a band, but the image of people-pleaser Avina being present during that one rejection made for quite the humorous image.
“I’ll definitely tell them you said that.”
Seven looked almost distressed by his remark. “I didn’t– please don’t.”
“No, I… yes, of course.” the singer waved his hand with worry. “I wasn’t seriously going to do that.”
The movement caught Seven’s attention, making her glance at Nico's wrist for a second before she turned her attention back to the records, rubbing one of her eyes.
“Alright,” she conceded, some of the tension seeming to leave her shoulders. “...Just so you know, the Alternative albums are right around the corner.”
Nico looked in the direction where she had nodded to, raising an eyebrow at the piece of information. “Oh- kay… I’ll make sure to give them a look.”
Seven began to fiddle with a pair of vinyl, sending them back and forth with her fingers. “Sorry, but you’ve been standing in the post-punk section a little longer than I would give you credit for.”
“Ah. I see.”
Hold on, was that what prompted her to start the conversation?
“–I mean, hey! Cut me a little slack! I know a few punk bands, like Blitz, or… the Ruts.”
Nico brought up his hand to count the groups on his fingers, but he hoped that Seven would not push the subject, seeing as he was already at his wits’ end.
“Really.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. “What album of theirs were you looking for, exactly?”
Crap.
Nico squeezed his eyes, trying with all his might to come up with a name. “Well, I’m pretty sure they both published a few singles, like… Babylon’s Burning?”
The small smile faded away from Seven’s face.
“Right.”
Noticing the change in mood, Nico opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but quickly decided against it.
It was something I said, wasn’t it? Was my guess that off the mark?!
The singer rummaged through his mind until he came to a picture of a crowded painting. The memory was fuzzy, but it had to be the album cover, he was sure of it. The image seemed almost pixelated, now that he thought about it.
Nico lowered his head. He remembered well where that picture came from.
There was a playlist, made on YouTube nonetheless, that Seven had shared with him back in senior year. It was the product of a younger age and simpler taste in music, but back then he wouldn’t listen to anything but. Some of the songs even ended up spreading to the rest of the band, becoming the inspiration for when the group worked on Reflections.
…Of course.
The two singers were silent once again. He glanced at Seven, who had stopped her search and was now just staring at the records, a million miles away.
I can still fix this, right?
Nico wracked his brain over what to say, but something in his throat choked him. Despite all his efforts, he wondered if this tension was meant to be. That the past they shared would forever doom all of their interactions to the same bitter end.
With a long breath, Nico forced himself to let it go.
Turning the corner, he entered the alt-rock section, where he was immediately greeted by the familiar blue cover of Hatful of Hollow. As ironic as it was, the singer did not smile.
“Nico!” Avina’s voice summoned his attention, calling out as if immune to any uneasiness built up in the air. “Were you thinking of buying a vinyl? They’ve got a three for two discount…”
“Huh...”
Why not, at this point.
“Yeah, I think I’ll get this,” Nico decided, picking up the fated blue album. It was technically a compilation, but he had enough record hunting for that day.
“Oh, I love the Smiths! Seven, are you getting anything? Please say yes…”
At her friend's plead, Seven lifted her head up and gave them a quick glance. “Sure- just a minute.”
Nico wondered for a moment whether the other singer was really torn over which vinyl to buy, but he quickly pushed the thought aside, turning towards Avina.
“So, what album did you end up choosing?”
The guitarist gave him a sheepish smile. “Actually, I might be getting… three or four,”
Nico’s mouth dropped open, but before he could comment on the bold financial decision, Seven joined the two, holding her own record with a firm grip.
“I got it. Let’s hope this discount’s worth it.”
“I promise you won’t regret this,” Avina replied, leading the group to the register. “And besides, art is priceless.”
After the cashier took a sip from a bottle of Banger Bomb that Nico eyed with repulsion, he proceeded to scan the three items on the register.
“That would be... fifty-six dollars for all three.”
Nico took out the lone twenty dollar bill from his wallet and then followed the two Soft Violence members to the exit. He failed to catch the record that Seven had gotten, even if there was a big chance he wouldn’t have recognized it.
That was a common motif with Seven: she was always the more passionate one when it came to experiencing music, often spending whole afternoons by herself to tailor different playlists. A stark contrast against Nico’s single, never-ending one, which he still updated to this day.
“Wow, the breeze feels so good!”
Nico raised his head to the sky. Avina had a point: now that the group had left the Queenvoice alley, the climate had gotten much more welcoming compared to when he first entered. One could almost smell the ocean from the small wind.
The singer changed grip on his thin paper bag. This is the part where you go your merry way, Nico.
“Give me one sec, I’m gonna call Pope and Kieran to see what they’re up to. Thanks again for the company Nico!”
With a final wave, Avina moved a few steps ahead to make their phone call, leaving him once again alone with Seven.
Somehow, the promenade had grown less crowded since Nico entered the shop. Together with the sea meeting the horizon, it made for a peaceful setting to end his little escapade on.
Right as he started thinking of an appropriate goodbye, Seven spoke first.
“Before you leave, I wanted you to have this.”
She held out her arm, offering him the record she’d bought as if it was the most ordinary gesture in the world. Nico stared at the album, then at her.
“You– your record?! Are you sure?”
When she nodded, Nico rubbed his hand on his trousers and timidly reached out for the record. A rather pointless gesture considering their fingers didn’t even graze one another.
“...Really sure? Do you– like, want to trade?” he added, pulling up his paper bag in exchange.
Seven eyed the vinyl for a moment, but quickly shook her head.
“No thanks, got that one already."
Nico blinked, unsure as to what to say. “Oh. Okay.”
With a nod, Seven put her hands in her pockets and looked towards her friend, who was still busy with their call.
“Don’t worry, I’d say Avina bought enough records for the whole band,” she remarked, starting to walk backwards while still facing him. “Good luck tomorrow, Rose.”
With the final send-off practically thrown over her shoulder, Seven turned away, not waiting for a reply. Nico stood still while she caught up to her bandmate, the sight completely normal and yet surreal.
Good luck to you too, Seven.
Nico started retracing his steps, slipping Seven’s album together with the one he bought inside the paper bag. Her light-hearted tone was still ringing inside his mind when suddenly, the small sea-breeze grew into a blast of wind, shaking the palm trees and rippling against Nico like a wave.
The singer shielded his face with a grimace, but before he could figure out where it came from, the wind faded away, as quickly as it had begun. Nico looked back in the direction where Seven and Avina had gone, but he only caught a glimpse of red before it too disappeared among the crowd.
Well. At least there should be a decent song here, somewhere… Did I even say thank you?
Looking down at the bag, he checked that both records were still inside, just to confirm that the whole event hadn’t been some kind of vivid dream. Before he could dwell any further, his thoughts were interrupted by an arm wrapping around his neck, bringing him down to meet Rowan’s upbeat face.
“Look who’s here, the lead singer in the flesh!”
Nico smirked, untangling himself from his bandmate. “Happy to see you too, Rowan.”
“Hey, lovebirds! I found Nico!” his friend added, cupping his mouth with one hand.
Soon after, Iris and Devyn appeared from a nearby corner, heading towards the other two in a half jog.
Nico gave them a quick wave, then adjusted his glasses. “I was about to call one of you. I was just– uhh…”
“Did you go to the record store without us?” Rowan reached towards the paper bag. “That’s exceptionally rude. What did you get?”
The singer felt a surge of relief at his friend’s laid-back reaction. “Ahh, nothing much.”
“Woah, look at this,” Rowan joked after completely ignoring Seven’s vinyl. “About five minutes of Johnny Marr surrounded by that monotone singer– what's his name again? Y’know, the vegetarian guy…”
“Holy crap Rowan, nobody cares!” Iris interjected, making him drop the vinyl back in the bag and turn with his hands raised.
Meanwhile Devyn, who also caught up to the group, looked up and down Nico as if he were a released hostage. “How was filming, Nico? Did you have a hard time?”
“Oh, actually… I may have slipped away a bit after you guys left the hotel,” The singer admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Are you serious?!” Iris scoffed. “We thought you were being subjected to some sort of psychological torture for the last few hours!”
“That’s… very specific, but no. Were you all looking for me or something?”
“Dude, Orion must’ve called… a bunch of times,” Rowan stated, his tone dead serious.
“Shit, seriously?!” Nico fished his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and tapped the screen. No signs of life.
“...Damn. I think I forgot to charge it.”
“You know that if this happens one more time, Orion’s likely going to inject some kind of tracker inside your arm, right Nico?” The question came from Devyn, surprisingly.
The singer closed his eyes in resignation and nodded.
“Yeah, I know.”
After the teasing had subsided, the four bandmates took the collective decision to walk back to the hotel, this time accompanied by a favorable breeze.
“You should ask August for some tips for the next time you'll end up off the grid,” Iris suggested, tipping her head back. “Even in the rare case they get hammered, they’ve always answered my messages. Last time they even sent a reasonably coherent summary of what went down during the evening.”
Before Nico could reply that, in his own experience, a drunken August wasn't exactly someone to trust with your life, he heard Rowan giggle next to him.
“The difference is that Nico gets in actual deep shit. If I were Orion, I'd still go with the tracker.”
“Okay, no one’s tracking anyone guys! Let's not be creepy,” the singer protested, removing Rowan’s arm from his shoulder. “I'll make sure to charge my phone from now on.”
His friend’s grin widened at the promise. “Ohh, I think Nico’s got something to hide… Why don’t you tell us who you were secretly meeting with at the record store?”
Nico snapped his head toward the guitarist with the intensity of a crossbow, but by pure chance none of his bandmates happened to be looking at him to notice. “I didn’t–”
“I say he hooked up with the clerk,” Iris teased from ahead, making Devyn sputter out a laugh.
“That explains how he got the bag of vinyl!” They added, turning around to catch Nico’s reaction.
The singer shook his head, but couldn’t help chuckling as well.
“Guess I can't hide it now,” he replied, twirling the bag's handle around his index finger. “I’ll make sure to get Blake’s whole discography when I go back.”
As the sun got lower, the group was lucky to get recognized only by a handful of fans before reaching the hotel. On the other hand, the grass field in the garden was now buzzing with even more noise than the city, half of which came from Cory barking orders at the troupe.
The sight made Nico frown. Like death, you could only avoid filming for so long before it caught up.
“Don’t worry, we’ll cover you if any of the producers start a cross-examination,” Rowan declared, giving the singer a playful slap on the chest.
“...Thanks, guys.”
Nico felt touched by the words, but a part of him longed to tell them the whole truth. To come clean about all that happened ever since the vote, his change of heart about the other members of Soft Violence, and of course, how he felt towards Seven.
Maybe some other day…
After Iris sent a message to Orion and August in order to meet up, the group sat down on one of the more secluded benches outside of the building. The sunlight was much more bearable now, and the bandmates settled on watching the behind-the-scenes of the show unfolding in front of their eyes.
While they waited, Nico pulled out the album that Seven gave him, taking a closer look at the cover.
L.A.M.F. the lost '77 mixes
He didn't know Johnny Thunders, but he had heard of the Heartbreakers... somewhere.
The singer let out a silent sigh. Whatever message Seven might have hidden in the gift, he would've had to listen to the whole thing in order to understand it.
What if there's no message at all? I could always be overthinking this...
“Won’t be long before they announce the next challenge…” Devyn commented, making Iris tilt her head back with a groan.
“Hey, we’ve got to give it our all this time,” Rowan proclaimed while rubbing his hands in excitement. “We’re gonna steal Soft Violence's spot in one clean swoop, right Nico?”
Looking up, the singer gave his friends a bright smile. He wasn’t going to figure Seven out as long as he lived.
“I'm looking forward to it.”