Backstage was a mess of cables, crew, and half-empty soda cans. The kind of chaos that only came after the high of a show—the comedown.
Sienna twirled a mic cord around her fingers like a snake, perched on the arm of the greenroom couch like it was her throne. Her black top hugged her like a warning sign, and her smirk was razor-sharp.
Elliot had been quiet since the show. Still holding that same distant look, like he hadn't come back down yet—or didn't want to. He sat against the wall near the gear crates, tuning his guitar slowly, methodically. Avoiding eye contact. Especially with her.
Which made it all too easy.
"So," Sienna purred, drawing out the word like syrup. "Elliot."She leaned forward slightly. "What's the next heartbreak song called? 'Oops, My Tongue Slipped'?"
Adrian, halfway through sipping a sports drink, choked.
Elliot didn't look up.
Sienna tilted her head, eyes glowing with mischief. "Too soon?" she asked sweetly.
Adrian crossed the room casually, stepping between them with a light laugh. "Yikes. I think that burned more than the stage lights."
She smirked. "Come on. We all need a little drama to stay inspired, don't we?"
"You mean you do," Adrian said, gaze narrowing just a little. His tone was playful, but his eyes weren't.
Sienna leaned back on her hands, unfazed. "Oh please. You think I'm the only one who uses other people's feelings for material? At least I admit it."
Adrian's smile curved like a blade. "Guess I'm just a little more subtle with my chaos."
She winked. "You're a flirt, Adrian. Not a menace. Let the professionals handle that."
He watched her a moment longer. Something about her had always been… magnetic. Dangerous. Like a fire you know will burn you, but the heat still draws you in.
---
Later that night, after everyone else had cleared out, Adrian found Elliot in the back alley behind the venue, sitting on a milk crate with his guitar case beside him. The air was cool, city-warm, laced with neon hum and distant traffic.
"You always do this?" Adrian asked, sitting on the step beside him.
"Do what?"
"Brood in alleyways. Classic sad boy behavior."
Elliot snorted softly. "It's quieter out here."
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Adrian leaned back, staring up at the sky. "She's not gonna stop, you know."
"Sienna?"
Adrian nodded. "She smells blood. And your sad face is practically an open invitation."
"I can handle her."
"You sure? Because I've seen the way she looks at you."
Elliot rubbed his eyes with his palms. "She doesn't want me, Adrian. She wants to piss off Roxanne. I'm just the weapon."
"Yeah," Adrian said, voice gentler now. "And you're letting her load you."
Elliot didn't respond.
After a pause, Adrian asked, "You still want Rox back?"
Elliot didn't answer immediately. His voice was soft when it came. "I don't know. I miss her. But I don't think I deserve her. Not after what I did."
Adrian tilted his head. "So what do you want, then?"
Elliot looked down at his hands. "I just… want to stop hurting. And I want her to stop hurting, too."
Adrian exhaled. "That's a good start. But wanting her happiness doesn't mean you don't get to want yours, too."
Elliot glanced sideways. "What about you?"
Adrian smiled faintly. "What about me?"
"What do you want?"
Adrian's smile faded slightly, replaced with something softer. "I don't know. I've been so busy making sure everyone else is okay, I kind of forgot to ask myself that."
They sat in quiet again, the kind that felt more like understanding than silence.
"You ever think we're just pretending to be people we aren't on stage?" Elliot asked.
Adrian chuckled. "You're asking the guy who flirts like it's a second language. Yeah. Every day."
Elliot gave a weak smile.
Adrian nudged him with his shoulder. "We're all a little messed up, El. Doesn't mean we're not still allowed to figure it out."
Behind them, unnoticed, the greenroom window was cracked slightly open.Sienna stood just inside, alone now—lips pressed together, arms crossed.
She'd heard enough.
But she didn't know how to feel about it.
And that?That scared her more than she'd admit.