073

The doors finally swing open, and the venue breathes in the cool night air before swallowing it whole.

In an instant, the space that had been humming with low chatter and anticipation erupts into movement.

The crowd pours in, eager bodies pushing forward, combat boots scuffing the wooden floor, excited voices rising over each other. You can hear the clatter of chairs scraping as people claim their spots, the murmur of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter from groups of friends.

You stay put at the counter, beer in hand, watching the chaos unfold with a satisfied smirk.

This is more than you expected.

People aren’t just showing up for a night out.

They’re showing up for Corroded Coffin.

For Eddie.

Somewhere backstage, he and the guys are waiting, smoking, stretching, bullshitting, probably trying to act unbothered despite how much they hate this part. The waiting.

You can picture it so clearly.

Eddie pacing, boots tapping restlessly against the floor, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he mutters about how he just wants to get on with it already.

Jeff cracking his knuckles, quiet but focused.

Gareth drumming against his knees, probably annoying the shit out of Grant.

You smirk, lifting your drink to your lips. They have no idea just how big this crowd is. The thought makes your chest swell with pride. Your head moves toward the entrance again, just in time to see three very familiar figures stepping inside.

Robin. Steve. Vickie.

Robin’s eyes are already wide, lips parted as she takes in the crowd, "Holy shit, this place is packed".

Steve, of course, is less impressed. He drags a hand down his face, looking playfully annoyed, "Yeah, yeah, great. You’re welcome for the ride, by the way".

You laugh, already pushing off the counter.

Elena barely glances up from where she’s pouring drinks, but you call out anyway, "See you later!"

She smirks, tossing you a wink before sliding a beer to a waiting customer.

You push through the growing crowd, waving as you rush up to them.

Robin beams the second she sees you, meeting you halfway, "Holy shit, Sam! What a venue!"

"I know, right? And you guys actually came", you laugh, bouncing slightly on your toes, your genuine excitement bubbling up.

"Of course we came", Steve states, arms crossed but grinning, all mock-annoyance, "Even though someone made us drive an hour through the most god-awful traffic".

Robin elbows him, cutting him off, "You survived".

Steve scowls, "Barely".

You laugh, pulling them both into a quick hug before looking to Vickie, giving her a knowing smile. She stands close beside Robin, hands tucked into her jacket, smiling softly. "And you, Vickie? Didn't think you'd actually make it".

She blushes lightly but smiles back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Wouldn’t miss it".

Robin glances at her, looking so, so soft, like she might actually melt into the floor.

Yeah. She’s gone for this girl.

Smirking to yourself, you grab a round of beers from the bar, passing them out before leading them straight to the front row.

The venue is getting louder by the second, the air is buzzing now, more and more people cramming inside, filling the space with an electric energy.

Steve leans against the barricade, exhaling loudly, "Okay, but real talk, I better get free drinks after this drive".

You chuckle, shaking your head.

Robin is still being so incredibly obvious, sneaking glances at Vickie every chance she gets.

You nudge her arm, smirking, "You two are cute".

She chokes on her drink, eyes going wide, "Shut up".

Vickie giggles, nudging her playfully.

Robin looks like she’s going to combust.

Before you can tease her further, though, a loud cheer erupts behind you. People start applauding, voices rising in excitement.

You frown, glancing over your shoulder.

Steve, the tallest, straightens up, peering over the heads of the crowd, "The hell’s going on?"

Robin suddenly sucks in a breath beside you. Her grip tightens around your arm. "No way", she whispers.

Your brows knit together, "What?"

She doesn’t even look at you. She’s staring, eyes huge, mouth slightly open.

Steve’s still frowning. "Wait a minute… Is that… that band we saw on your birthday? Van-something?"

Robin makes a choked noise. "Vanguard,"

Vickie breathes, equally starstruck.

Robin finally whirls toward you, looking utterly stunned. "They’re here?", she asks, voice pitching high, "Oh my god... they’re here?"

You blink, then smirk and glance back toward the entrance. And sure enough, there they are.

Vanguard.

Matt. Rick. Greg. Salva. Joe.

They’re making their way through the crowd, looking just as badass as ever, tattoos, leather, rockstar confidence oozing from every step. They move like they own the place, nodding at people, signing a few things, flashing grins, heading for the stage.

Your smirk deepens.

Robin, on the other hand, looks like she’s short-circuiting. "Oh my god", she mumbles, barely breathing, "They’re coming our way".

You bite back a laugh.

"Why the fuck are these guys here? At Eddie's bands concert?", Steve frowns, watching the five guys weaving through the parting crowd, laughing and talking.

Your best friend is now absolutely losing her mind, watching the band heading straight your way. Steve and Vickie aren’t much better, but Robin? She’s frozen, staring, her eyes wide as she watches the five rockers, the band she freaked out over on your birthday, stride straight toward the first row.

Matt grins as he spots you, his tattooed arms stretched wide, "There she is! Sammie!"

You laugh, lifting your beer in greeting before waving, already stepping toward them as the crowd parts.

Everybody looking your way.

"Come here, kiddo!" Greg calls, opening his arms.

You barely have time to register Robin’s choked oh my god before you break into a jog, crashing into Greg’s embrace.

His arms crush you close, his laughter loud in your ear, warm and familiar.

Matt ruffles your hair, making you yelp, while Salva, absolute menace that he is, steals your beer, taking a long sip before handing it back like nothing happened.

Rick slings an arm around your shoulder, giving you a quick squeeze, his rough voice full of amusement. "Jesus, feels like we just saw you yesterday. How long's it been, huh? A fucking week? You doing okay, kid?"

You grin, pulling back just enough to look up at them, feeling every pair of eyes in the venue on you, including the shocked ones from behind you. "I’m great! What the hell, you guys didn’t tell me you were coming this early?!"

Matt shrugs, flashing his signature lopsided grin, "Wanted to surprise you."

Greg gestures toward the stage, smirking, "Figured we’d give your funny-haired man a little moral support before he shreds."

You laugh, shaking your head, "He’s gonna lose it when he sees you guys."

Salva nudges you with his elbow, "How’s the band? They ready to kick some ass?"

"They’re-"

"You’re friends with Vanguard?!" Robin’s voice cuts through the noise, high-pitched and borderline frantic.

You turn, only to find her gaping, absolutely starstruck, gripping Steve’s arm like she might collapse at any moment.

Steve looks just as stunned, blinking rapidly as he gestures vaguely at the band, then at you. "Wait. What?"

Vickie, standing beside Robin, covers her mouth, her eyes wide as she looks between you and the five rockers.

"Wait, wait, wait," Robin stammers, pointing at Rick, Greg, Matt, Salva, and Joe as if she’s making sure they’re real, then pointing at you. "You...you know them? Like, know them know them?"

You sigh, stepping back to your stunned friends. "Okay, listen, I was gonna tell you-"

"You know Vanguard?" she demands, voice rising, "The band that I... The band we- The band we saw on your birthday?"

"Yeah," you say, rubbing the back of your neck, "They kinda… adopted me? Dunno, we met coincidentally and now we're..."

"... Family", Greg ends your sentence, looping an arm around your shoulders, grinning widely.

Robin lets out a sound that is somewhere between a gasp and a strangled scream.

Steve gawks at you, hands on his hips. "Wait, wait, wait. So this is the weird band thing you and Eddie were being all cryptic about last week?"

"Yes."

"You have famous rock star friends, and you didn’t tell us?"

You roll your eyes, "I was waiting for the right moment!"

Robin looks betrayed. "We fangirled so hard! And you just stood there? Knowing them?"

You wince. "Yeah. Sorry."

Matt laughs, shaking his head. "Oh shit, we broke one."

Rick chuckles, stepping closer to Robin, grinning, "You alright there, sweetheart?"

Robin inhales sharply, her entire face going red, and Steve actually grabs her shoulders, physically steadying her as she sways slightly.

Vickie stifles a giggle, covering her mouth.

You smirk, nudging Robin’s arm, "Deep breaths, Robs".

She nods stiffly, wide-eyed, barely breathing.

Rick winks, chuckling as he steps back to you, "Damn, Sammie, you didn’t warn us your friends were this cute".

Robin makes a sound.

Vickie grins, nudging her side.

Steve shakes his head, laughing as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Greg pats your back, "Alright, alright, enough breaking your friends. Let’s go find your boy. Where’s he hiding?"

You glance toward the stage, knowing Eddie and the guys are still backstage, waiting. A wicked grin pulls at your lips. "Come on," you say, grabbing your beer, "Let’s go say hi. Guys, I'll be back in a sec".

Your friends just nod, watching you and the guys disappear to the backstage area, still in absolute shock.

The second you reach the security guy standing by the backstage entrance, he gives you a quick nod of recognition, he knows you by now, has let you through plenty of times.

But the moment his eyes flicker to the five guys standing behind you?

His expression shifts entirely. His posture straightens, eyes widening as he glances between you and Vanguard, his brain clearly struggling to process what the hell is happening.

"They're with me, that okay?", you ask, smiling sweetly.

He blinks rapidly, then nods furiously, stepping aside like he’s just been asked to clear the way for the president. "Y-yeah, yeah, of course, go right in," he stammers.

Salva claps him on the shoulder as he passes. "Appreciate it, man."

Behind you, you hear Greg chuckle, low and amused, "Think that guy’s gonna need a minute".

Rick smirks, "Not every day you see a legend in the flesh, huh?"

You roll your eyes, leading them down the short, dimly lit hallway, hearing the familiar sounds of your boys waiting backstage. Laughter, a lighter flicking, the faint clinking of beer bottles.

The backstage area is alive with tension, the low hum of conversation, the occasional clatter of equipment, the smell of cigarettes and beer lingering in the air.

Eddie's leaned back in a chair, one foot propped on the table, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingers as he animatedly talks to Gareth, his other hand gesturing wildly as he complains about the "goddamn, never-ending wait".

Jeff and Grant sit nearby, half-listening, Jeff tuning his bass while Grant flicks his lighter open and shut.

None of them notice you at first.

Not until Matt speaks up behind you, loud and amused, "Jesus Christ, Munson, do you ever stop bitching?"

The entire room freezes.

Eddie’s cigarette slips from his fingers, landing on the floor. His eyes widen comically, snapping toward the doorway.

Gareth chokes on his drink.

Jeff blinks rapidly, looking from you to Matt, then Rick, then Greg, then the rest of them, back to you.

Grant actually drops his lighter.

"No fucking way", Eddie laughs, scrambling to his feet, his chair almost toppling over behind him.

You burst out laughing, nearly doubling over at the look on his face. Pure, unfiltered shock.

Rick crosses his arms, smirking, "Well, that’s a greeting".

Your boyfriend runs a hand through his curls, eyes wide, practically vibrating on the spot. "What the fuck, you guys, what the fuck are you doing here?!"

Matt shrugs. "Wouldn’t miss it."

You chuckle, taking a sip of your beer, when Eddie's eyes settle on you. "You knew they were coming?", he asks.

Still laughing, you shrug innocently, "Maybe".

Gareth finally regained his speech, eyes darting between you and Rick, "Wait, wait, wait. You guys came for us?"

Greg grins. "Well, yeah. We’re invested now, man. Plus, we heard you have a killer setlist lined up".

Salva nods toward you, "And our girl here told us you’d be tearing the place down tonight".

Eddie’s chest puffs up immediately, eyes lighting up. "Did she now?" His smirk is instant, cocky and smug as he looks at you, grinning like the goddamn devil himself.

You just smirk, sipping your beer, watching him come closer. His arms wrap around you in one swift motion, pulling you close, his lips finding your temple first, then your cheek, your hair, everywhere. Soft, adoring presses, like he needs to physically feel you to process what’s happening.

Greg watches with amusement, nudging Matt. "Damn, look at him. We’ve only been here for two minutes, and he’s already clinging to her like she’s the only thing keeping him upright."

Eddie doesn’t even care. He buries his face in your hair for a second, inhaling, then leans back just enough to grin down at you, pure joy radiating from him. "You planned this, didn’t you?"

You smirk. "Maybe."

He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, shaking his head. "You’re insane," he murmurs.

"You love it."

He grins. "I fucking love you."

Matt groans dramatically, tossing his head back, "Jesus Christ, we walked into a damn rom-com."

Jeff, finally breaking out of his stunned silence, snorts, "Dude, are you seriously more excited to see your girlfriend than the actual rock band standing right here?"

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate. "Obviously."

Greg cackles. "Alright, alright, don’t smother the poor girl before the show even starts."

Your boyfriend finally loosens his grip, just a little, still keeping an arm wrapped around your waist, as he turns back to Vanguard, shaking his head in disbelief. "I seriously can’t believe you guys are here."

Rick crosses his arms. "We had to come. Word is, you guys are the next big thing."

Eddie blinks. Jeff chokes. Grant actually drops his cigarette. Gareth looks like he just forgot how to breathe.

"Wait," Eddie says slowly, eyes flicking between them. "Are you...serious?"

Matt smirks. "Dead serious, man."

Rick nods. "I’ve been talking to some people  after the band battle. You guys have something real here. And we want to help."

Eddie stares, completely still for a moment. And then, his grip on you tightens, and he breathes out, "Holy shit."

He's nervous. You see it in the way his fingers keep flexing at your sides, the way he can’t stand still, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

Rick notices too, leaning against the wall with a knowing smirk. "You got this, Munson," he says, tipping his beer toward him, "You know that, right?"

Eddie snorts, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off any doubts. "Duh. Of course, I do."

Greg laughs. "Yeah? Then why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself?"

"Fuck off," Eddie grumbles, flipping him off.

But Rick just grins. "Hey, nerves are good. Means you give a shit."

Matt nods. "And from what we saw at the battle last week, you have every reason to be confident."

Eddie lights up at that, visibly relaxing.

Salva smirks. "Just don’t go too hard too fast, yeah? We don’t need you passing out halfway through the set."

"Oh please," Gareth scoffs, nudging Eddie’s shoulder. "You know he’s running on cigarettes and caffeine at this point."

You chuckle, watching as Eddie soaks in every word, the nerves fading, replaced by something sharper. Pure, fiery determination.

Rick steps forward, clapping a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, "Play like it’s the last time you’ll ever play, alright, my man?" He turns to the rest. "All of you".

Eddie nods once, his grip tightening around his guitar pick. "Fuck yeah," he rasps, "Let’s blow this place apart."

They all grin, exchanging last words of encouragement, cracking jokes, and by the time you step closer to Eddie, he’s fully back in rockstar mode - grinning, smug, that spark in his dark eyes. You place your hands on his chest, feeling his heart pounding fast beneath your fingertips. "Good luck, baby," you murmur.

He smirks down at you, "Don’t need it."

But when you pull him in for a kiss, it lingers. Deep, slow, lingering just long enough to make him exhale through his nose, gripping your waist like he doesn’t want to let go. When you pull back, his lips are still parted, eyes slightly hazy.

"Go melt some faces," you whisper.

His fingers tighten against you, like he wants to pull you back in.

But then Grant groans, "Jesus Christ, can we not do this now?"

You laugh, stepping away, leaving Eddie still looking like he hasn’t quite recovered from that kiss.

As you turn toward the door, he suddenly calls out, "Hey! Make sure no weirdos bother my girl while I’m busy, alright?"

You glance back, raising an eyebrow as you see all five members of Vanguard grinning.

Rick winks at you, arms crossed, "Don’t worry, Munson. We got her."

Greg playfully claps his fists together. "No creeps are getting near our girl tonight."

Salva nods. "Anyone tries anything, I’ll throw ‘em over the bar."

Eddie, satisfied, smirks. "Good."

You shake your head, rolling your eyes fondly before slipping out the door, heading back toward the front where the venue is already packed wall to wall with people.

The second you step out, you spot your friends still in the front row. They still look absolutely shell-shocked.

Steve, arms crossed, looks like he’s trying to solve a complex math problem.

Robin, still looking dazed, is gripping Vickie’s arm like she might collapse.

Vickie just blinks rapidly, watching you approach like she’s not sure you’re even real.

Steve is the first to speak. "What the actual fuck just happened?"

You wanna explain, but that's the second the lights in the venue shift, dimming slightly, casting the whole place in a deep, moody glow. The background music fades, replaced by the low hum of anticipation crackling in the air.

Vanguard has settled behind you, and Robin hasn’t blinked in the last two minutes. You touch her arm. "Robs. Seriously. Stop staring at them".

She doesn’t move, still locked onto the five towering figures of Vanguard, who are standing way too casually behind you, chatting and waiting for the show to start.

"They’re just normal dudes", you tell her, amused, "You can talk. Have a beer. Ask for an autograph if you want one".

Robin finally snaps out of it, her head jerking toward you. "I...What? Why are you friends with them? How are you- How do you even know them?"

You sigh, shaking your head, "I’ll tell you the story later, I promise. Right now, just… breathe, okay?"

She doesn’t look convinced. She glances at Greg, who notices and grins right back at her. Robin malfunctions.She blinks. Hard. Looks at Steve. "Did you-... Did he just grin at me?"

Steve, completely unfazed, just pats her arm.

Before Robin can spiral, the radio rep finally steps onto the stage.

The venue erupts in cheers, and just like that, all eyes are on him. He lifts the mic, his voice booming.

"Alright, Indianapolis! We’ve got something special for you tonight! But first, let’s talk about the band that stole the whole damn show last weekend at the Battle of the Bands!"

The crowd cheers louder, the energy in the room buzzing like static before a storm.

"Now", the rep continues, "if you missed it, don’t worry - we’ve got something for you".

The lights drop.

The screen behind him flickers to life.

A trailer starts. Some highlight reel from the battle.

Corroded Coffin on stage, drenched in sweat, guitars roaring. Gareth hammering his drums like a man possessed. A cut to Grant, belting their best song into the mic. Eddie beside him, hair wild, ripping a solo, his whole body alive with the music.

The crowd going insane, screaming, pushing forward. The energy explosive.

Then it's Eddie’s voice over the speakers. Loud. Clear. Dripping with that gravelly confidence.

"MAKE SOME NOISE FOR MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!"

The screen cuts again, and then it’s... you.

Your breath catches.

It’s you, on stage, gripping Eddie’s guitar, the band surrounding you, playing your song. Your voice, loud, raw, cutting through the venue like a blade.

The footage shows Eddie watching you, his eyes locked on you like you hung the goddamn moon, moving around you, playing alongside you, worshiping you in front of hundreds of people.

The moment you finished playing, adrenaline and love and everything crashing together, Eddie grabbing you, kissing you breathless, the whole venue cheering for it.

The screen goes black.

Then, the judge’s voice.

"You broke a rule. This could be reason for disqualification."

A second voice. Rick, who also sat at the jury that night.

"How about we let the crowd decide?"

Followed by waves and waves of screaming.

"And the winner of this year’s Rock FM Battle of the Bands is…CORRODED COFFIN!"

The last shot. The band collapsing on stage, absolutely losing their minds, Eddie on his knees, Gareth throwing his drumsticks in the air, Jeff and Grant hugging and screaming, the entire venue exploding around them.

The trailer ends.

And the venue erupts.

You feel it in your chest, in your bones.

The people around you cheer, scream, stomp their feet.

But your friends? Your friends are staring at you like you just told them you’ve been living a double life this entire time. Robin is clutching her beer like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. Vickie’s eyes are huge. Steve is still frowning, like he’s trying to process everything at once.

Matt, who has his hands on your shoulders, shakes you, laughing. "Still so proud of you, kiddo. Look at you!"

You just smirk, feeling the heat of recognition from the strangers around you.

People whispering, glancing at you, piecing it together.

The rep on stage keeps going, hyping up the crowd. "That night was insane," he shouts, "They broke a rule, but they stole the whole goddamn show. And let’s be real, who wasn’t jealous of Eddie Munson that night?"

The crowd whoops.

You snort, shaking your head, embarrassed as hell.

Joe whoops behind you, clapping your back.

The rep lifts his mic one last time.

"ARE YOU READY FOR THIS PROMISING BAND, INDIANAPOLIS? MAKE SOME FUCKING NOISE FOR THIS YEAR'S WINNERS!"

The curtains start to move.

Your heart slams against your ribs.

The venue shakes as the crowd erupts all over again. The lights shift, deep and electric. The stage explodes with light.

"HERE’S FOR YOU, CORRODED COFFIN!"

The curtains fly open, and the second the band steps onto the stage, it's pure chaos.

Everything around you erupts.

The cheers, the stomping, the absolute wall of sound crashing through the room hits them like a tidal wave.

You witness it, the moment it dawns on them.

Eddie, Grant, Jeff, and Gareth all freeze for half a second, wide-eyed as they take in the sheer size of the crowd.

You didn’t tell them. You didn’t tell them how packed the venue already was when you went backstage again, how the place was absolutely flooded with people.

Because you wanted them to see it for themselves.

Now, they’re standing there, stunned, overwhelmed, totally blindsided.

The venue is stuffed to the brim, people packed in so tight it’s a sea of bodies, all of them here for Corroded Coffin.

For them.

For Eddie.

He turns his head, eyes scanning the crowd. Disbelieving, almost. Until his gaze finds you.

The shock on his face melts away, replaced by a wicked grin as your eyes lock. He tilts his head back, running a hand through his wild hair before letting it drop to his side again, rolling his shoulders.

Grant and Jeff share a look, laughing breathlessly, still in awe.

Gareth exhales a "holy shit."

Then, Eddie steps forward, eyes bright, gripping the mic stand as he takes in the moment, the sheer fucking power of it.He lets out a long, slow whistle into the mic. "Well, well, well…" His voice rumbles through the speakers, dripping with that easy, cocky charm of his, and the cheers get louder. His grin widens. "You’re telling me all of you came out here just for us?"

Another wave of screams.

He chuckles, shaking his head, looking back at the guys. "You hear that, boys? They actually like us".

Grant leans into his mic, grinning, "Nah, man, they just came for me."

The crowd laughs.

Eddie barks a laugh, turning back to the audience, "Guess we’ll have to prove which one of us is actually the reason you're all here". He leans into the mic, voice dropping to that gravelly, wicked tone. "You guys ready to go fucking insane?"

The crowd loses their minds.

Eddie laughs, nodding, "Good". He steps back, giving Gareth the signal.

Their drummer spins his sticks, smirks, and counts them in. The first chord slams through the speakers like a gunshot. The air shakes with the sheer force of it, bass rumbling through the floor, Gareth’s drums exploding to life in perfect sync.

Eddie moves. He steps forward, owning the stage, fingers tearing across his fretboard with that effortless, cocky precision, veins in his forearm standing out as he rips into the opening riff.

The energy is instant. Electric, blistering.

Bodies slam together, a frenzy of movement as the first row pushes closer, hands reaching out, screaming, pulling the entire venue into a fever pitch.

Grant leans into his mic, snarling out the first line, voice rough, powerful, but Eddie steals the show without even trying. The way he moves, it’s unreal. Hair flying, headbanging in perfect rhythm, a wicked grin carved onto his lips as he shreds.

He’s a goddamn force.

You can’t look anywhere else.

He’s right there, not just playing, not just performing, but owning every fucking second of it.

It’s effortless. Natural. Like he was born to be up there, feeding off the energy, living for the chaos.

Your heart is pounding.

It’s not just that he looks so fucking hot up there, it’s the way he commands the space, the way he plays, the raw power in his movements.

Your beer is long forgotten in your hand, mouth parted, pulse hammering.

He catches you watching. His dark eyes snap to yours mid-solo, and you swear he fucking smirks. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Just as he bends into another riff, his fingers flying, muscles flexing, sweat already forming at his temple, he winks.Cocky. Smug. So goddamn sure of himself.

Your stomach flips.

Robin nudges you, yelling something in your ear over the music, but you barely hear her, your entire body is too focused on him.

On how fucking good he looks.

On how you’re burning just watching him.

The energy is insane.

It’s like the air itself is buzzing, thick with heat, sweat, and the pulse of the music.

You’re jumping, screaming, singing every word, your voice lost in the roar of the crowd, but you don’t care, you don’t need to be heard.

Song after song, without a second of breath between them, Corroded Coffin commands the stage. Their own songs, sharp and raw, melt seamlessly into classic covers that have the entire venue singing along.

It’s a perfect fucking mix, something for everyone, making sure every single person in this place is caught in the same fever.

Greg is whooping behind you, Vanguard feeding into the crowd’s energy, shouting for Eddie and the band like they’re diehard fans instead of established rockstars.

"EDDIE, MY MAN!" Greg bellows, hands cupped around his mouth.

Salva whistles, throwing up horns.

Joe, Matt, Rick, they all join in, throwing the crowd into even more chaos.

Your heart is pounding, hair damp with sweat as you laugh, singing until your throat is raw.

Then, without a warning, you're suddenly being grabbed, as Greg hoists you up. You yelp, but it turns into laughter as he settles you onto his shoulders, holding you high above the crowd.

"Holy shit!" Robin yells, immediately grabbing onto your waist to steady you.

Steve steps behind her, hands out like he’s expecting you to fall at any moment.

But you’re not falling. You’re soaring.

The venue stretches before you, hundreds of people, bodies packed together, a sea of faces, all screaming for Corroded Coffin.

It’s surreal, being up here, watching them from this height.

Eddie sees you, grins and points at you from stage. Sweaty, wild, flushed with adrenaline, he finds you immediately, grinning so wide it’s nearly cocky. He falls to his knees at the edge of the stage right where you're at, his guitar screaming through the speakers as he bends back, killing a solo so filthy, so perfect, it sends the entire venue into madness.

Your stomach flips. Your body burns. And you playfully fan yourself, shaking your head like you can’t handle it, making Eddie bark out a laugh mid-solo.

He finishes with a flourish, fingers flying, body moving, sending one last earth-shattering note into the air before leaning forward.

Greg takes another step.

Robin tightens her grip on you.

Steve shouts something, but you don’t hear him.

Because suddenly, you’re right there. So close.

Eddie is all heat and sweat and wrecked fucking beauty, and before either of you can second-guess it, your fingers grab his face, pulling him in while still sitting on Greg's shoulders. Desperate, breathless, laughing lips colliding in a kiss that makes the crowd fucking explode. It’s messy, smudged with sweat and hunger, but perfect in its urgency, in the way his fingers dig into your thighs, in the way his mouth lingers, greedy, before finally pulling away.

He’s grinning, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, already standing back up, moving back to his band. Like he didn’t just fucking ruin you in front of an entire venue.

You cheer for him, laughing and applauding, Greg's hands holding your calves tight as he moves and bounces with you. You couldn't be more happy. More proud of Eddie, of his band.

One hour of relentless, pounding, sweat-drenched rock later, the band still looks like they could go all night.

They're catching their breath, wiping sweat from their faces, shaking out their limbs as the noise of the crowd swells, then steadies, waiting, hanging on whatever Eddie has to say next.

He steps forward, hands on his hips, breathing hard, lips curling into a smirk as he looks out at the sheer size of this crowd, this sea of people, all here for them. Like he can’t quite believe it. Then he laughs, shaking his head. "Holy shit", he breathes into the mic, chest still heaving, eyes bright with adrenaline. He glances at his bandmates, "You guys seeing this?"

Gareth, sweaty and grinning, gives a mock-dazed thumbs-up from behind the kit. Jeff just nods slowly, like he’s genuinely stunned.

Grant smirks, "Still think they’re here for me, actually".

The crowd whoops and cheers, feeding into the joke, and Eddie barks out a laugh, tossing an arm over Grant’s shoulders.

"Oh, for sure, man". He turns back to the crowd, gesturing between them. "Look at this face. This is a face that sells out stadiums".

More cheers, more laughter.

Eddie pulls away, dragging a hand through his damp hair. "Seriously, though... what the fuck, Indy?" He grins, shaking his head again, letting the noise roll over him. "I mean, I knew you guys would show up, but this? This is fucking insane!"

The cheers swell again.

Behind you, Greg lets out a low whistle, "He’s a natural".

You don’t even look away from the stage, "I know".

Eddie was born for this, the way he works a crowd, the way he commands attention, the way he makes it feel personal, like every single person in this venue is a part of this moment with him.

"I mean, I don’t wanna, like, freak out or anything", your boyfriend goes on, pacing the stage now, eyes scanning the crowd, "But this is probably the biggest crowd we’ve ever played for. And, you know, no big deal or anything, but it’s also, like, our first show after winning the Battle of the Bands".

More cheers. Deafening.

Eddie throws up his hands, laughing. "Okay, okay. I mean, it’s not like it’s a huge deal or anything, right? Not like it’s the coolest fucking thing that’s ever happened to us".

More laughter, more cheering.

Jeff shakes his head, grinning as he tunes his bass.

Eddie wipes sweat from his forehead with his forearm, then suddenly locks eyes with you. And his smirk shifts. Turns into something else. Something sharper, teasing.

You already know what’s coming before he even says it.

"But I gotta say", he continues, pointing his mic toward the crowd, stepping closer to the edge of the stage, "Winning was pretty cool, yeah?"

Loud agreement.

He nods. "Fucking awesome, actually". Then he tilts his head, tapping his chin, pretending to think. "But I think my favorite part of that night..."

Oh, no.

"... was when my insanely hot, ridiculously talented girlfriend took my guitar..."

The crowd screams.

You groan, face in your hands, already shaking your head.

Eddie just laughs, loving every fucking second. "... and then proceeded to blow everyone’s fucking minds by playing the song her old band fucking tried to steal from her".

More screaming.

Vanguard is whooping behind you, clapping you on the back, chanting your name.

And you want to die.

Eddie grins, pacing the stage again, reveling in your suffering. "She was nervous, you know". He glances at the band, then back at the crowd. "Didn’t even wanna do it at first".

Grant nods sagely, "So shy".

"So shy", Eddie agrees.

Jeff leans into his mic, "Total wallflower".

Gareth snorts.

The crowd laughs.

You flip them all off.

Eddie laughs the hardest. "But she did it", he says, voice dropping into something almost reverent, "And she fucking killed it. Like I knew she would".

A pause.

"Sam, baby, you wanna come up and do it again?"

The venue fucking explodes. The second the words leave Eddie’s mouth, the cheering, the screaming, the chanting of your name, it’s like a tidal wave crashing over you, deafening and relentless.

Your cocky, smug bastard of a boyfriend just stands there, grinning so wide he looks like he might fucking burst.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Because now there’s no way out.

Behind you, Greg claps a heavy hand on your back. "Go on, kiddo," he laughs, eyes bright with mischief, "Show 'em what you got."

"Yeah, Sam!" Robin, finally breaking out of her starstruck haze, grabs your arm, shaking you, "You gotta do it!"

Steve crosses his arms, nodding in agreement, "I mean, Eddie basically just gave you no choice, so…"

You whip around, eyes wide. "You guys-"

"Do it, do it, do it!" Salva starts chanting behind you, hyping up the crowd even more.

People around you join in.

Your name, over and over, filling the venue like a battle cry.

Eddie watches it all unfold, eating it up, eyes locked on you, waiting. The absolute shit-eating grin on his face is almost enough to make you say no out of sheer spite.

Almost.

So, you move.

The entire band is waiting, watching, reveling in the way the crowd keeps screaming, chanting your name like it’s part of the goddamn setlist. You shake your head, laughing, running a hand down your face as you take a deep breath.

The excitement, the noise, the sheer intensity of the moment, it’s almost overwhelming. This is exactly what you were made for. Still laughing, you cover your eyes, shaking your head again as the cheers only grow louder.

You’re halfway up the steps when you hear Robin’s voice, shrill and absolutely unhinged, cutting through the noise like a gunshot. "LET'S GO BABY!"

The entire venue erupts into laughter, people whooping and clapping, and you snort loudly into the mic as you reach the center of the stage. "Jesus Christ, Robs," you chuckle, glancing down at her, where she’s standing in the front row, tears in her eyes, face flushed with excitement.

She only whoops again, fists in the air, making the crowd go even wilder.

You turn your attention back to them, shaking your head, settling your stance, grounding yourself. And just like that, you do what Eddie does.

You own it.

"Alright, so I gotta be honest," you start, voice clear, strong, playful, "I really do ask myself sometimes how it must feel to walk into a venue, knowing beforehand that you’re part of the lineup for the night."

Laughter ripples through the crowd, and you take a step forward, motioning toward Eddie, who’s still standing beside you, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"But no. Every time, my lovely boyfriend here decides to just... keep it to himself. Because clearly, it’s more fun that way."

Eddie wiggles his brows, tilting his head innocently, and the crowd laughs as he brings the mic to his lips. "It is fun," he quips, shrugging, voice pure smug amusement.

You shoot him a look, playful, exasperated, fond as all hell. "See what I have to deal with?" you ask, turning back to the audience, "And yet, I still love him. Questionable decision-making on my part, honestly."

The laughter comes in waves, rolling through the crowd, cheering, clapping, feeding off your energy.

You smirk, shaking your head. Your expression sobers. Just a little. Just enough.

When you speak again, there’s something heavier beneath your words. "This song, it's very personal for me", you continue, exhaling, gripping the mic just a little tighter, "It’s called Losing Grip. And it’s about..." You pause, swallowing. "It’s about my father".

The energy shifts.

Not in a bad way. Just... different.

Listening. Really listening.

"If that’s what I can even call him," you murmur, lips twitching in something that’s not quite a smile.

You let the words sit for a moment. Let them settle in.

"I wrote this song," you continue, voice steady, raw, "Put every ounce of pain I had into it. Because growing up without a father? That fucking sucked. But I bet many of you know that feeling". You huff out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "My mother wasn’t any better," you admit, "But at least she stayed. Maybe she had no other choice. Maybe she only stuck around for seventeen years because it was convenient." You glance down at your hands. "And then she kicked me out. Just like that."

Silence. Not empty. Not hollow.But hanging. Heavy. Weighted with understanding. With shared pain. With the same aching loneliness in other people’s chests.

"Maybe I should write a song about her next", you mumble, before taking a deep breath, lifting your gaze again, eyes scanning the crowd, "But you know what? As much as all of that hurt... it led me here."

You exhale. Look down at Robin, at Steve, at Vickie.

"To this small, weird town in Indiana".

Robin sniffs loudly.

"To my best friend," you say softly, "Who is actually crying in the first row right now."

She laughs, wipes at her eyes, Steve rolling his eyes next to her, pulling her in his side.

"Robs," you chuckle, pleading, shaking your head, "Please, stop."

She sobs harder.

The crowd laughs gently, warmth bubbling through the room, soft, easy.

You turn, eyes scanning the familiar faces of Steve, of Vanguard next to him.

"To those other people," you add, smirking, "who showed up tonight to support this band with me. Who somehow feel responsible for me, protect me. Make me feel seen".

Your gaze locks onto Eddie, who is just standing there. Just watching you.Completely still. Completely entranced.

"And to this man", you say softly, smiling now, "Who makes my life so much better."

His throat bobs. His fingers twitch at his sides.

"Eds," you say, voice gentle, steady, certain, "I love you so much. You have no fucking idea."

The cheers erupt again, but you barely hear them. Not when Eddie is looking at you like that. Like you’re the only thing in the world. Like he might actually fucking combust from loving you too hard.

You inhale deeply, turning back to the crowd, shaking yourself free of his gravitational pull. "And I guess," you continue, voice lighter now, glancing around at the sea of faces in front of you, "what I’m trying to say is, no matter how fucked up your life is, no matter how many people let you down... it can change. In a fucking instant. If you finally let it. Finally realize you’re worth it. If you finally turn, and leave. All the love you might not have gotten? You still deserve it. And if people treat you like shit? Fuck them. Even if it's your own blood".

The roar that follows shakes the goddamn walls. The applause, the voices, the chanting, all of it fills every single inch of this place.

You turn to Eddie, opening your hand, smirking at his guitar. "Can I borrow that for a second?"

The crowd is electric, still roaring as Eddie smirks back at you. His eyes flicker with something mischievous, proud, completely in love as he steps forward. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t stall, just reaches behind his back, unstraps his guitar, and swings it around.

The second it’s in your hands, the venue erupts again. Cheers, chants, people absolutely losing it.

Eddie steps back, wiping the sweat from his brow with his wrist, watching you, waiting.

Jeff, Gareth, and Grant exchange quick glances, adjusting their instruments, getting ready.

You take one steadying breath, gripping the neck of the guitar, fingers finding their place on the fretboard, muscles moving from memory.

You strum.

The first chords ring out, loud and sharp, cutting through the buzzing energy in the air like a blade.

The crowd screams as you lean in, lips almost brushing the mic as you start to sing.

"Are you aware of what you made me feel?Right now, I feel invisible to you, like I’m not real..."

Your voice is steady, strong, raw, carrying every ounce of emotion that this song was built on.

Eddie doesn’t move. Not at first.He just stands there, staring, jaw clenched, watching you like you just set the whole world on fire.

Robin's already sobbing again.

Steve has one arm around her, gripping her shoulder, his own face tight with emotion.

Vickie’s eyes are wide, her hands pressed to her chest.

Everyone is completely with you. Every beat, every note, every word.

People are singing, shouting, reaching, swaying. Somewhere in the chaos, Matt and Greg are whooping, cheering, hyping you up, Greg literally jumping in place, shaking Joe’s shoulders.

You barely see any of it. Because your eyes keep finding Eddie. Even as you sing.

"Didn’t you see me reaching out to find you?Why’d you turn away?Here’s what I have to say..."

He doesn’t move.  Not until the chorus hits.

Something in him snaps.

He lunges forward, reaching for another guitar, slinging it over his shoulder, jumping into the instrumentals like he’s just been fucking possessed.

The crowd goes wild.

And now, it’s not just you carrying this song. It’s the whole band.

Jeff’s bassline is vibrating through the venue, Gareth’s drums are pounding like a heartbeat, Grant is shredding like his life depends on it.

Eddie is right there with you. Every chord, every note, his body moving with yours, matching your energy, pouring everything into this song like it’s the only thing that matters. Maybe, right now, it is. Maybe it’s everything.

You hit the bridge, voice building, trembling, pushing through.

"Am I just some kid you left behind?A memory you can’t erase?"

Eddie steps in, his voice joining yours.Singing with you. Loud. Raw. Like he’s trying to pour every ounce of love he has into the words, trying to hold you up through them, steady you, keep you from falling.

"Why should I care?‘Cause you weren’t there when I was scared,I was so alone..."

It’s not just a song anymore.

It’s a moment. A moment between you and Eddie. A moment between you and every single person in this crowd who has ever felt alone.

Because they’re singing too.

People in the audience are shouting the words, fists in the air, eyes shining, voices hoarse.

The whole venue is alive with it.

By the time you reach the final chorus, your voice is breaking, your fingers burning, your heart pounding. But you keep going.

Because Eddie is right there.Because the band is right there.Because everyone is right there.

And when the last note finally rings out, when the final chord fades into nothingness, hanging in the heated, pulsing air, the world goes silent for just half a second.

Before the entire venue erupts.Screaming. Cheering. Chanting.

You’re panting, sweating, shaking, adrenaline crashing through your veins.

Eddie is grinning so fucking wide it hurts, still strumming, still buzzing. He drops the guitar, moves straight toward you, grips your face in both hands, and kisses you. Hard. Desperate. Like he can’t even breathe without you anymore.

The crowd fucking loses it.

Robin is absolutely feral.

Steve is laughing, cheering, whistling.

You just melt into him, fingers curling into his shirt, kissing him back like the entire world just stopped spinning.

Eddie is so gone for you. It’s written all over his face, the dazed, adoring look, the way his fingers tighten in your hair for a second longer, like he physically can’t pull away.

When you finally do part, breathless and buzzing, his forehead stays pressed to yours, his lips just barely brushing against yours as he grins.

"Jesus Christ, marry me".

The mic is still on.

The crowd erupts.

People are screaming, shouting, whistling. Someone throws a cup in the air. Someone else yells, "Say yes!"

Robin’s scream is loud enough to physically hurt as she jumps up and down in the front row, and Steve is laughing so hard he nearly falls over. Vickie’s hands fly to her mouth.

You just snort, shaking your head, laughing as you pull away. "Finish your set first, rockstar".

Eddie groans dramatically, tilting his head back. "Fine", he sighs, dragging the word out before he straightens again, his wild grin still aimed at you, "But y’all heard her, she didn’t say no!"

Another explosion of cheers.

You just roll your eyes, shaking your head as you finally step off the stage, noticing how the crowd is parting for you.

People reach out, patting your back, gripping your shoulder, shouting your name, complimenting you. 

You finally reach the front row, still buzzing, still shaking, still so high off the adrenaline it feels like you’re floating. 

Robin immediately grabs your face. "What the fuck?" Her eyes are wide, still wet from crying. She shakes her head, squeezes your cheeks, staring at you like you just descended from the heavens.

You laugh, pulling her into a hug, "Robs, you’re so drunk and emotional right now".

"I love you so much, what the fuck", she gasps, clearly in shock.

Steve pulls you in next, hugging you from the side, shaking you by the shoulders, "What do you mean, ‘you’ll tell us the story at home’? You’ve been holding out on us, dude! The fuck was that? You wrote a song? You sing like that?"

"I cannot believe I just witnessed that,” Vickie says, still in shock, "Sam, you made me cry".

"Aw, thanks, guys, I-", but your words are cut off by a group of five grown, tipsy, very proud men pulling you into their middle.

Matt is the first to grab you, both hands on your shoulders, shaking you so hard you nearly fall over, "So proud, baby!"

Greg doesn’t even say anything, he just scoops you up in a bear hug, lifting you off the ground, spinning you once before setting you back down.

"Did you see their faces?! God, I love watching you do your thing!" Joe grins, ruffles your hair, "Fucking star, man".

Salva and Rick don’t even say anything at first, just nod at you, pride all over their faces.

You feel it. Drown in it.

The love. The support.

The family you built for yourself.

Behind you, Corroded Coffin kicks into their next song, making everyone jump and cheer again, pulling you with them into this ocean of joy.

A few songs later, Eddie steps up to the mic, still catching his breath, hair wild and damp with sweat. He grins, shaking his head at the roaring crowd before him. "Alright, alright," he laughs, running a hand through his curls, "We’re giving you ten minutes to collect yourselves before we get back to melting your faces off. Hydrate, smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, and for fuck’s sake, don’t pass out on us."

The venue drowns in cheers and whistles as the band waves, setting their intruments down and stepping away from the stage for a quick break.

Around you, the energy is still electric, everyone flushed and sweaty, chests rising and falling as they try to catch their breath.

Rick leans in beside you, taking a drag from his cigarette. "They’ve got something special", he shouts against the background music that just started, exhaling smoke as he watches the crowd, "They keep playing like this, they could actually go somewhere".

Matt nods in agreement, "Eddie and Grant have that frontman thing down. They just belong up there".

You can’t stop smiling, your heart pounding with adrenaline and pride. They see it too. The potential. The magic.

You're so happy. And so thirsty.

"Bar?" you suggest, and your group collectively groans in agreement, already moving toward the counter.

As you approach, Vanguard gets held up again, fans swarming them for signatures, whatever they can get in the short break. Greg and Salva lean into it, shamelessly flirting with tipsy girls, laughing as they sign whatever’s put in front of them - boobs, stomachs, arms, napkins.

You smirk, shaking your head, but something about it tugs at your chest.

For a second, you picture Eddie in their place, the same energy, the same attention.

The thought lingers, bittersweet, before Robin tugs your arm, leading you toward the bar. You light a cigarette, leaning against the counter as you wait for the bartender to notice you.

Then, Elena spots you. She waves excitedly, weaving through her coworkers before reaching you, practically bouncing on the other side of the counter. "Sam!" she beams, "Holy shit, you killed it up there!"

You laugh, "You saw that?"

"Everyone saw that", she grins, "You were amazing. What can I get you?".

"9 beers!"

You turn and notice Steve, standing behind you, completely frozen. His eyes are locked on Elena like she just walked straight out of a dream, lips slightly parted, eyebrows drawn together like he’s trying to process what he’s seeing. You blink at him, then back at Elena, then back at him.

Oh.

Oh, he’s gone.

You bite back a laugh, nudging him with your elbow. "Steve".

Nothing.

You try again, waving a hand in front of his face, "Steve, buddy, you still with us?"

Finally, he blinks, dragging his gaze away from Elena long enough to mumble, "Who is that?"

You snort. "Elena. She works here tonight. Met her earlier, she's great".

He nods slowly, eyes drifting back toward her as she laughs at something her coworker says while pouring beers. "I bet she is", he murmurs, almost to himself.

Robin, who whispered with Vickie, suddenly notices. Her eyes flick between Steve and Elena, and then she grins. "Oh my God", she breathes, leaning closer, "Is this happening? Are we witnessing this?"

You smirk, taking a puff. "I think we are"

Steve, still dazed, runs a hand through his hair, suddenly looking uncharacteristically nervous.

Robin gasps dramatically, "Holy shit, he’s malfunctioning".

"I am not malfunctioning", Steve huffs, snapping out of it just enough to glare at both of you. "I just..." He gestures vaguely, still watching Elena as she moves behind the bar, effortlessly handling orders. "...she’s just…"

"Beautiful?" Robin teases.

"Different?" you add.

He groans, shaking his head, but doesn’t deny it.

Robin clutches her chest in mock emotion, "We should start planning the wedding".

You sigh wistfully, "Think they’ll want a spring or fall ceremony?"

Steve groans louder, still not taking his eyes off of your new friend, "I hate both of you".

You and Robin exchange a victorious high-five. But when you glance back at Elena, still moving effortlessly behind the bar, you know this is far from over.

She slides over with a tray stacked with nine beers, expertly maneuvering around the chaos of the bar. Carefully sets them down in front of you with a satisfied smirk, "There you go, rockstar".

You reach for your wallet, but before you can even pull out a bill, Rick casually slaps some cash onto the counter, "Already got it". You raise an eyebrow at him, but he just grins, taking a slow drag of his cigarette, "Consider it a ‘you-killed-it-on-stage’ bonus".

Elena watches the exchange, then shifts her attention to the guys surrounding you. She raises a brow as Matt, ever the flirt, leans in with a cocky smirk.

"So", he drawls, flashing his best rockstar charm, "what’s a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Without missing a beat, Elena tilts her head, eyes flicking over him with mild amusement, "Dodging bad pick-up lines, apparently".

Your entire group loses it.

Matt throws a hand over his heart, dramatically staggering back as if she just shot him.

Greg nearly chokes on his beer.

Robin lets out an actual wheeze.

Even Rick chuckles under his breath.

Matt, to his credit, grins, "Damn. Alright. That was good".

Elena smirks, "Glad you think so." Then she leans an elbow on the counter, eyes twinkling mischievously, "No offense, but rockstars aren’t really my type".

You feel Steve stiffen beside you.

Oh, this is too easy.

You casually gesture toward Steve, "Well, what about him? No rockstar at all".

She finally looks at him.

The moment her eyes lock onto him, Steve is gone, mouth slightly parted, completely frozen, like he forgot how to function.

Elena tilts her head, smirking as she slowly takes him in, scanning him from head to toe before her gaze lingers on his face. "That’s more my type", she muses, barely loud enough to hear. Then, without hesitation, she winks at him.

Steve almost passes out.

Robin screams. Like, full-on, hands-on-her-head, losing-her-mind screaming. She grabs your arm, shaking you violently, "OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD".

Steve, meanwhile, is just standing there, looking like he’s about to short-circuit. His lips part, but no sound comes out. He swallows. Blinks. Fails to speak again.

You snort, nudging him with your elbow.

Nothing.

Fine.

You shove him forward just enough that he stumbles, catching himself against the counter, now mere inches from Elena. "There", you announce with a grin, "Elena, meet Steve. Steve, meet Elena".

She leans in slightly, eyes never leaving him, "Hi, Steve". 

Steve swallows hard. "H-Hi."

Oh, he’s so screwed.

You watch as Elena blatantly checks him out, completely shameless, like she’s already enjoying how flustered he is.

Steve is trying, desperately, to keep his cool, but he’s blushing like an idiot, and you can see the way his fingers twitch against the counter like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

You decide to help him out, just a little, "Steve’s a catch, you know. Real gentleman".

Elena hums, still smirking. "Is that so?"

You ram your elbow into his side.

Steve finally pulls himself together. Takes a breath. Squares his shoulders. And then, with a sudden, smooth confidence, leans against the counter, mirroring her posture. "Well", he says, voice dropping into that charming tone he does so well, "I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself".

Elena’s eyes flash. Amused. Intrigued.And then, she smiles. Not just any smile. That kind of smile.

You watch, thoroughly entertained, as the two of them continue their little back-and-forth.

She leans against the counter, one brow quirked, that smirk never leaving her face. "So, Steve", she drawls, "you from around here?"

Steve, now fully tapping into his charm mode, tilts his head, pretending to think about it. "Depends", he muses, twirling his beer bottle between his fingers, "Would it be more attractive if I said yes or no?"

Elena laughs, actually laughs, and you swear you see Steve puff up just a little at the sound. "I don’t know", she teases, "but you do have that small-town boy look. Bit of a golden boy vibe, too".

Robin snorts behind you, and Steve gives her a quick glare before turning back to Elena. He smirks, playing along, "Golden boy? That’s a first".

Elena eyes him, tilting her head like she’s sizing him up. "Yeah? What do people usually say?"

He sips his beer, eyes twinkling. "Heartbreaker". 

Elena grins, "Ohhh, a smooth talker. Dangerous".

"Only if you want me to be", Steve murmurs, leaning in slightly.

You can practically hear Robin trying not to scream next to you.

Greg whistles under his breath, shaking his head, "Damn. The guy's got game".

Matt scoffs, sipping his beer, "It’s always the pretty ones. It's his hair, isn't it?"

You just cross your arms, grinning as you watch Steve work his magic.

Because this? This is classic King Steve. And yet, there’s something a little different this time, something real in the way he’s looking at her. Like he’s actually nervous under all that smoothness.

Just as it starts getting really interesting, a voice calls from behind the bar.

"Elena! Need you over here!"

She glances over her shoulder, then sighs, clearly reluctant to step away. "Duty calls", she murmurs, before turning back to Steve.

For a second, you swear you see a flicker of disappointment on his face, but he masks it quickly, giving her an easy smirk. "Guess I’ll just have to keep myself busy until you get back", he says smoothly.

Elena smirks right back, "Try not to miss me too much, golden boy".

And with that, she turns on her heel and walks off, disappearing into the crowd of bartenders and customers.

The second she’s gone, Steve exhales, running a hand through his hair.

Robin explodes. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" She grabs his arm, shaking him violently. "You- you were BLUSHING, STEVE. YOU WERE ACTUALLY BLUSHING".

Steve shoves her off, but he’s grinning, rubbing the back of his neck, "Shut up".

"Oh my God", you laugh, "She ate you alive, dude".

Steve just sighs, shaking his head, staring at the spot where she disappeared. "Yeah", he mutters under his breath, “and I think I liked it.”

The moment the lights shift and the band steps back on stage, the energy in the venue skyrockets again. Cheers erupt, hands shoot into the air, and Eddie, sweaty, wild-haired, and grinning like he owns the whole damn world, stalks up to the mic, gripping it like it’s an extension of himself. 

"You guys still with us?" he calls out, breathless but buzzing, voice rough from singing.

The crowd screams, a wave of sound crashing against the stage.

Eddie laughs, running a hand through his curls, pushing them back just for them to fall right into his face again. His rings glint under the lights as he grips the mic stand, swaying slightly, drunk off the moment. Off the power of it all. "Man, you guys are fucking insane," he chuckles, shaking his head, "I swear, I thought we were loud before the break, but now? Now you sound like you've actually lost your goddamn minds."

More screaming. More cheering. A few people start chanting Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! and it spreads, filling the air.

Eddie thrives on it. Eyes gleaming, he paces the stage, breathing it all in. His fingers flex, itching to get back on his guitar. His gaze flicks over the front rows, scanning, searching until... there.

You. 

Surrounded by your friends, by your "big brothers", the Vanguard guys standing like an unofficial shield around you, laughing, hyping you up, still buzzing from your performance earlier.

Robin’s still giddy, Steve’s still dazed from Elena.

You look radiant. Flushed, slightly sweaty from the heat of the crowd, your eyes locked on him like he’s the only thing in the room worth watching.

He feels it. That pull. That ache deep in his ribs that reminds him, yeah, I'm so fucking gone for her. He grins, and without missing a beat, he leans into the mic again, smirking. "Enough talking. You ready for more?"

The answer comes in an explosion of sound. 

Eddie winks at you one last time, then nods to the band. "Then let’s fucking go!"

And just like that, the music slams back into existence, filling every inch of the venue, shaking the walls, sending the whole place into chaos again.

Eventually, the last song looms over them like a bittersweet ending.

The crowd is still electric, but there’s a warmth now, a shared moment between them and the band, something deeper than just the music.

Grant speaks first, rubbing at the sweat on the back of his neck. "Man, I still can’t believe we’re up here right now."

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. "Yeah, no shit. I mean, if you told me a couple months ago we’d be playing a packed venue like this, I would’ve laughed in your fucking face."

The crowd cheers, a mix of excitement and protest at the thought that this shouldn’t have happened.

"But we are", Grant continues, eyes scanning the audience, "And it’s because of you guys!"

Another wave of cheers, hands reaching up, people screaming their names.

Eddie grins, gripping the mic stand. "Yeah, seriously. This is insane. We didn’t even bring merch or tapes ‘cause..." he snorts, shaking his head, "We don’t even have any fucking merch or tapes".

Laughter ripples through the venue.

"But, uh, if anyone wants to throw a record deal our way…" He waggles his brows, smirking, "I mean, we’re open to negotiations".

The audience loses it.

Grant nudges him, laughing. "Okay, okay, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves." He shifts, looking out over the sea of faces, "But seriously, thank you. Thank you for showing up tonight, for letting us feel like we own the fucking world. For cheering for us last weekend, for making us win. For coming back. And for listening to us tomorrow-"

Eddie picks it up smoothly. "--On Rock FM," he drawls, winking, "Where our very sexy voices will be blessing your radios and we’ll be pretending we know what the fuck we’re doing in an actual interview".

More laughter. More cheers.

Eddie’s fingers drum on the mic stand, and for a moment, he looks out at the crowd like he’s trying to burn this into his memory. Like he’s scared he’ll wake up and it’ll all be gone. "We’ll never forget this night", he says, softer now, "It was like a fucking dream".

Grant nods, "You all are like a fucking dream!"

And that’s when it hits you.

The emotion, the weight of it all.

Tears slip down your face before you can stop them, watching him, watching your love stand on that stage, soaking in the cheers, the love, the fact that people care about them.

That they’re here.

And to him, to all of them, it already feels like they’ve made it.

But this is just the start.

On stage, Eddie takes a breath, rolling his shoulders. "We’ve played a lot of songs tonight. Songs about heartbreak. About lost families. Anger. Friendship. Losing control. Finding yourself." He nods toward Grant. "This guy wrote a shit ton of them. So did I".

Grant grins.

Eddie tilts his head, looking thoughtful. "But y’know… we never really wrote about love."

A murmur of excitement moves through the crowd.

Eddie exhales, fingers tightening around the mic. Then, slowly, his eyes find yours.

And he smiles.

The entire venue feels like it holds its breath.

"Sam. Baby. You’re already crying down there", he teases, eyes locked on yours, "God, I hope it’s because you’re happy for me. Not ‘cause we played so bad it’s actually hurting you."

Laughter ripples through the crowd, but you just shake your head, wiping at your face with a watery smile.

He grins, shifting his weight, looking so goddamn soft despite the black-clad, sweaty, metalhead exterior.

And then, this loud, wild, chaotic man, standing on that stage in front of hundreds of people, proceeds to talk about you. How you saved him. How you showed him what love is. How you made him realize that his heart, so battered, so guarded, was actually capable of feeling something like this.

"Sam", he rasps, voice steady despite the weight of his words, "the first day I saw you at school, when you sat in my fucking seat, snapped at me, and flipped me off when I told you it was mine", he chuckles, shaking his head. "I fucking fell for you".

The crowd erupts, laughter and cheers blending into something warm, something alive.

Eddie smiles, running a hand through his curls before continuing, "I had to wait so fucking long for you to realize we belong together. I had to run after you. Had to fight for you, fight with you".

Your chest aches as you listen, tears falling freely now.

"But it’s all so damn worth it", he says, voice dipping lower, words thick with meaning. "Baby, you have my fucking heart." He shakes his head slightly, like he still can’t believe it himself. "You’re the best thing that ever happened to me".

There’s a shift in the air. A pulse of emotion rolling through the venue. People feel it. The rawness, the realness of his words. You press a hand over your mouth, overwhelmed, completely undone by the way he’s looking at you. By the way he’s standing in front of everyone, shouting to the world how much he loves you.

He lets the moment sit, lets it breathe, before smirking. "Okay, now that I hear myself, some of you probably think I’m about to propose or some shit". He pauses, letting the crowd lose their minds before continuing. "But no". He snorts. "Can’t afford a ring yet. And she deserves the biggest".

You laugh, shaking your head, because god, he’s impossible.

He softens again, gaze unwavering. "My love, I’d give you everything I have. Everything."

A beat.

"I gave you my heart already. All my clothes, which look way better on you than they do on me anyways. My bed". He exhales, glancing out over the crowd. "I’m a broke man, y'know. There’s not much else I can give." Then, he turns back to you."The only thing left", he grips the mic tighter, his voice dipping, growing rough with emotion, "... is a song".

You stare at him, your face already wet from your tears as you try to process what's going on. The dimmed stage lights cast a soft glow over his face, catching the shine in his dark eyes, the tension in his jaw.

The crowd stills. Conversations die. Even the bar staff, usually indifferent to whatever local band is up there, pause mid-pour.

You can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe he’s really doing this, here, in front of everyone.

"Oh, my god, Sam", Robin whispers, stepping next to you, just as shocked as you are.

Eddie takes a deep breath, hands resting on his guitar, sliding over the neck as if it's just an extraction of his body. Slowly, he leans closer, lips brushing over the mic as he mumbles, "This one’s for you, baby. This is All I Am".

A choked sound escapes you.

Robin’s arms tighten around you immediately, her own breath hitching.

It starts.

Just him and his guitar. No drums. No bass. Just that low, husky murmur, softer than you’ve ever heard him sing, words slipping into the quiet like a confession as he starts to sing the words he wrote just for you.

"I was hollow, I was weightless, just a ghost inside my skinDidn’t know I was still breathing till you pulled me back again"

Tears already sting in your eyes again, your lip wobbling as you watch. Watch how the dim stage lights shine down on him, how the sweat from his gig still glistens on his temples.

"You saw through me, every fracture, every scar I tried to hideDidn’t run, didn’t waver, you just stayed right by my side"

Your hand flies to your mouth. Tears spilling again, running down your face, dripping down on your shirt. It’s not just the words, it’s the way he sings them. Like he’s lived every single one. Like they’re carved into his bones.

Eddie’s voice is rough, breaking just slightly on that last line. His hands tremble on the frets. The lights catch the way his brows furrow, how his eyes close for a second.

You feel every single word, and by the time the drums start in the background, soft, heartbeat-like, you’re sobbing.

"And I don’t know what I did to deserve you,But I swear on my soul I won’t waste it"

Gareth’s cymbals whisper beneath Eddie’s voice, just enough to build. Jeff and Grant exchange a quick glance, they know what’s coming.

"Take my soul, take my sinsIf you want them, they’re all yoursYou’re the blood in my veins, the fire in my ribs

If the sky breaks, if the stars fall,I will hold you through the darkNo gods, no fate, no heaven above

Just you and my heart beating wild in your hands"

The band erupts behind him.

Drums pounding, bass rumbling, guitars crashing together in a wave of sound so massive it drowns the room.

But even with the sheer force of it, Eddie’s voice cuts through, desperate, pleading, raw in a way that makes your whole body tremble.

You clutch Robin’s hand, unable to breathe through the sobs wracking your chest. You can’t look away. He’s giving you everything up there, pouring every bit of himself into this moment, into you.

"I was reckless, I was drowning, filling lungs with bitter nightsI was searching for a reason, but I couldn’t get it rightThen your voice cut through the silence like a flame against the darkLit a fire, burned the wreckage, left your name inside my heart"

His dark eyes lock with yours, making your heart ache in a way it never has before. He sees your tears, your eyes. How you clutch your chest, your pounding heart. Trying to hold it inside of you. If you'd let go, it'll jump right out. He leans in again, singing the bridge, low, meaningful. Just for you.

"And I don’t know what I did to deserve you,But I swear on my soul I won’t break it"

The next chorus hits even harder. More desperate, more visceral. You feel it in your bones. The crowd is entranced, swept up in the sheer emotion of it. Even people who don’t know the story, who don’t know you, can feel it.

Eddie’s voice drops. Just him and the guitar again, everything else falling away. His eyes burn into yours.

"I’d tear myself apart if it kept you wholeI’d carry every burden just to lighten your soulI’d break, I’d bleed, I’d burn, I’d drown,Just to know that you’re still around"

The entire room holds its breath.

You feel like you're about to pass out, heart racing in your chest. Wet eyes pinned to the man on stage, the love of your life as he and his band take on the final chorus.

The drums shake the floor. The guitars scream.

Eddie’s voice is on fire, roaring the words like they’re being torn from his chest.

"Take my soul, take my sinsIf you want them, they’re all yoursYou’re the blood in my veins, the fire in my ribs

If the sky breaks, if the stars fall,I will hold you through the darkNo gods, no fate, no heaven above

Just you and my heart beating wild in your hands"

It’s overwhelming. It’s everything.

You’re shaking, crying, breaking in Robin’s arms, because how the hell can you hold all of this inside?

The music fades, Eddie leans close again, breathless, raspy. Full of devotion as he finishes his song with the slowly fading outro, only him and his guitar again. His voice softens, just a whisper now as he keeps looking right at you.

"You saved me…You made me…All I am… is you"

The last note rings out, hanging in the air like the final pulse of a heartbeat.

The entire venue is silent.

No one moves. No one breathes for a second.

Then, the room erupts. The roar of the crowd crashes over you like a tsunami. Cheers, screams, applause so loud it vibrates through your ribs. People are losing their minds, stamping their feet, whistling, clapping so hard their hands must be stinging.

But you don’t hear any of it. Not really. Because all you can see, all you can feel, is him.

Eddie Munson, standing on that stage, chest heaving, hair damp with sweat, guitar hanging loose in his grip. Looking at you like you’re the only person in this entire room. Like he just ripped himself open for you, laid everything bare, and doesn’t regret a second of it.

Your breath catches, your hand flying up to press against your chest, as if that might keep your heart from bursting right out of you.

He grins wide and so in love, and leans into the mic, voice rough and shaking with emotion, "Holy shit, I think she liked it."

Laughter explodes from the audience, wild and giddy, as Robin shakes you in her arms, screeching in your ear.

You’re sobbing, nodding frantically, unable to do anything else.

Eddie laughs breathlessly, running a hand through his hair before turning to his bandmates. Grant claps him on the back, Jeff wipes his own eyes, and Gareth shakes his head, smirking as he twirls a drumstick between his fingers. "Alright," Eddie exhales, bringing the mic back to his lips. "That’s it, folks. That’s our set. We’ve got nothing left to give."

The crowd loses it again.

Eddie steps back, hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes it all in. Grant and Jeff exchange a look before both suddenly launch themselves at him, pulling him into a three-way hug that nearly knocks them all over. Gareth joins in, making it a full dogpile, and the sight of them all laughing, hugging, barely holding themselves together, it destroys you.

After fighting them off, Eddie’s eyes find you again, still filled with all that love, all that overwhelming everything, and he mouths, "C’mere."

You don’t even think. Your legs move before your brain does, pushing through the packed crowd as people cheer for you, clap you on the back, hype you up. You barely register it. You’re already reaching for the stage, hands grasping at the edge just as Eddie lunges forward, grabbing you, yanking you up so fast you gasp.

His arms wrap tight around you, lifting you off the ground, spinning you as the venue explodes around you.

And then he’s kissing you. Hard. Desperate.Like he’s trying to pour every single ounce of love, of devotion, of everything he just sang into this.

You melt, fingers fisting in his hair, holding onto him like he’s your entire world, because he is.

The crowd loses their minds.

Robin is shrieking, Steve is whistling, Vanguard is chanting your names like a goddamn war cry.

When you finally break apart, gasping, Eddie presses his forehead to yours, laughing breathlessly. "So?" he murmurs. "Do I get to keep you?"

You laugh, sobbing, nodding frantically as you cradle his face. "Eds," you whisper, voice shaking. "You fucking own me."

He kisses you again. He’s breathless, still shaking, still pounding with the energy of the performance. His tall body so warm, his heart racing against yours, like he’s just as overwhelmed, just as out of his mind as you are. His fingers tangle into your hair, pulling you in, pressing his forehead against yours as his breath fans across your lips, and all you can do is cling to him.

There are still cheers, still whistles, still people losing their shit all around you.

Eddie’s still holding you, arms wrapped tight around your waist, but his head tilts back, letting the sound of the crowd wash over him. His eyes close for a second, lips parting as if he’s breathing it in, soaking in the deafening applause, the roar of people screaming his name, their names, his band, you. Then, his eyes snap back to yours, wild with excitement, that grin stretching across his face, cocky and smug and so fucking happy. "Do you hear that, baby?" he breathes, voice shaking, "You fucking hear that?"

You do. It’s everywhere.

Your ears ring with it. People are going insane. Robin is still screeching, Steve is hollering, Vanguard is hyping the crowd up even more, chanting Munson! Munson! Munson!

Your head spins. Your breath catches in your throat as you take it all in, the insanity of what just happened, what this night has turned into. Your eyes dart back to Eddie’s, still full of so much love, and you shake your head, trying to process it, a wet laugh bubbling out of you, "You wrote a fucking song about me?"

He grins. That goddamn, stupid, beautiful Munson grin, smug and cocky, but so full of love it wrecks you. He leans in, nose brushing yours, voice low, teasing. "Baby, I wrote the best song I’ve ever written about you."

You laugh, overwhelmed, hands sliding up to cup his face, "You’re such an idiot" before kissing him again. This time, it’s softer. Slower. A kiss that says thank you, that says I love you, that says holy shit, you just did that.

He melts into it, sighing against your lips, hands running up your back, cradling you like you might disappear.

A flood of cheers erupts again, and Eddie pulls back, laughing breathlessly. His hands slide down, one gripping your hip while the other reaches for the mic stand. He grabs it, pulling it to him with a smirk before turning back to the crowd. "Alright, alright," he rasps, "calm the fuck down, Jesus Christ."

The crowd does not calm down. If anything, they scream louder.

Eddie just laughs, shaking his head as he pulls you against his side, his arm wrapping around you again. "Man, what the hell are we even supposed to say after that?" he teases, glancing at his band.

Grant wipes his face dramatically, Jeff just shakes his head, and Gareth flips a drumstick through his fingers, deadpan. "We should probably end on that, dude. No way we top it."

The audience boos at the idea of it being over, making Eddie chuckle. He glances at you, eyes still so full of love, before turning back to the mic. "Look, I could stand here and thank you all a million times, and it still wouldn’t be enough. This is, fuck, I don’t even have the words. It’s the best night of my life."

The cheers are deafening.

Eddie huffs out a breath, running a hand through his curls, glancing at you once more before shaking his head. "I just, shit, we started this band as a bunch of freaks who just wanted to play music. We didn’t think anyone would ever care." He gestures out to the crowd. "And now? We got you. We got this. We got the best fucking people in the world standing right here, making us feel like gods for a night".

The room erupts again, shaking the damn walls, and he can't help himself.

He needs to hype them up one last time. Use the stage one last time. Before this fever dream ends. He raises his arm, shouts into the crowd, "Black Cat, you beautiful bastards! That was our set! That was Corroded Fucking Coffin!"

Another wave of applause, cheers, people still stomping, still riding the high of the show.

Eddie thrives in it, feeding off it, hyping them up even more. "Give it up for these assholes!" he laughs, turning to the rest of the band.

Gareth, Jeff, and Grant step forward, grinning, sweaty, still buzzing. They each take their turn bowing dramatically, Gareth tossing his drumsticks into the crowd while Jeff and Grant fist-pump the air.

Eddie claps a hand over his chest, mock-solemn. "I wanna thank my best friends, my brothers in crime", he shouts, voice still hoarse from screaming, "Couldn’t do this shit without you".

"And, of course", he continues, turning back to the crowd, eyes twinkling, "I wanna thank our fucking incredible friends who came all the way out here to see us tonight!"

A new wave of screams as the Vanguard crew, Robin, Steve and Vickie cheer like maniacs from the floor.

Eddie grins, soaking it in, before his fingers tighten on your wrist, pulling you back to his side. His lips brush against your temple, his voice dropping, low, teasing. "And most importantly…" He leans into the mic, grinning, voice all romance and smugness, "I wanna thank my girl. Who, by the way, right after I poured my heart out into that song, called me an idiot. Guess that's true love, ladies and gentlemen".

The crowd erupts, people laughing as he pulls you into his side.

You groan, trying to hide your face in his chest, but Eddie just laughs, full and bright, obsessed with you even now.

"Alright, alright, I know you bastards wanna drink, so we’ll wrap it up. One last time, thank you. We’ll see you all at the bar!"

And with that, the lights go dark.