Chapter Text
My favourite feeling ever...
My favourite sentiment,
Has got to be what I feel with music.
The purest form of Chaos.
The bass shaking my ribcage.
My feet matching the kick of the drums.
The slight ache on my strumming hand. The slightest bit of electricity buzzing on the end of my fingertips.
The feeling that no matter how hard I yell the lyrics, my guitar will always be louder...
...Rationalizing it, it ends up sounding worrying. Even scary...
...But it's so fucking freeing.
The last chord rings out, as if refusing to shut up.
The college band room empty acoustics holding onto the fuzzy tone.
"That was solid." I say, already feeling a drop of sweat go down my spine.
Calli calls to me when the song ends, holding onto her bass. Side-eyeing me.
"Bae. Did you turn up your guitar again?"
I freeze. Caught. "Uh..."
Kiara laughs into her mic. Looking at Calli.
"Babe. C'mon~ Don't start with the 'audio engineering' stuff again–"
Calli speaks up again.
"I spent 30 MINUTES EQUALIZING EVERYTHING!!"
"Unreasonable crashout." IRyS says chuckling from behind her drumset. Hitting the cymbal for comedic effect.
"Jokes aside though, I could hear everything just fine. Bae turning it up made the ending hit harder."
Kiara agreed with a nod and a hum.
Calli let out a heavy sigh, but eventually ended up smiling. She always does.
"I can't stand your flashy ass."
She said, bumping me on the shoulder playfully.
"Kiss it." I said, grinning.
"I'll actually end you."
Teasing Calli is especially fun, because if you're just a little mean, she'll react as if you shot her dog.
I bumped my hip against her, making sure to sound as annoying as possible.
"You're so pressed today. What, did you run out of eyeliner this morning?~"
"OH YOU F–"
IRyS slams her snare.
We both freeze.
(She's done this approximately nine hundred times at this point.)
Calli struggled, indignant, dramatic as hell.
"Guys, we're being timed here. Stop fighting."
Kiara pressed a hand between Calli’s back, trying not to laugh.
“Yeah, girl, relax— Bae’s not _actually_ saying your ears are broken.”
“I’m saying they're bad." I said, brushing dust off my jeans.
“Which is worse." Calli snapped back.
“You look like you're about to tackle her." Kiara said, half-scolding, half-amused.
Calli froze.
“…But she turned up her guitar.”
IRyS sighed softly. Chuckling.
"Oh, right. Now it's justified."
She twirled her stick lazily between her fingers.
The picture of calm.
Like nothing could ever bother her.
It's kinda hot.
Wait what?—
Calli fixed her bass strap with the same energy as a cat pretending it didn’t just face-plant.
“This band is gonna give me aneurysms.”
"You already had one last week. Over the cables.” Kiara said, adjusting her mic stand.
"That one was valid, to be fair.” IRyS said.
Kiara gently tapped her mic, humming.
Her voice echoed around the practice room: warm, clear and steady.
She always sounded like she was about to start a small concert even when she was joking around.
Our lead vocalist.
Calli dropped into her bassline, warming up. She glanced at me again.
“You better not crank it up."
I played one, very noisy, very obnoxious power chord. My amp barking loudly back at her.
"I don't need to."
Kiara snorted.
Calli keeps moving so the headstock of her bass is directly on my face.
Annoying.
IRyS just smiled at the scene before tapping her kick pedal twice.
It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to pull the room back to earth.
She always did that.
These tiny little cues that said:
"Let’s keep going."
IRyS is the glue. The quiet mediator.
And for reasons I didn’t think about too hard, she always seems to take my side.
"Let's do the second chorus again."
IRyS tapped her sticks together in the weird, syncopated way she always does:
1, 2— 3, 4
And we fell back into it.
That feeling I love creeping in again.
Not very intense, it had become somewhat of a routine now. And we were only practicing, not performing.
But that was only for now.
Because soon enough, everyone will hear me.
They will hear us.
I jogged across campus still smelling faintly like practice room dust and guitar strings.
My hair was a mess. My backpack was heavier than my will to live. Business as usual.
Calli had peeled off toward her music course, probably already messaging Kiara something disgustingly corny.
Those two found each other in the first month of classes and immediately jumped into dating like they’d speedrun it.
I’d known Calli since the tail end of high school, so seeing her all soft and smiley was still weirdly wholesome.
But in the band, I only had one bandmate that shared a class with me.
IRyS.
...We don't talk much.
Not because anything was wrong. But I was particularly closer to Calli. Not her.
We're in a limbo.
If it is the whole band together, then we can talk just fine.
But if one of the others leave, we go quiet.
That kind of limbo.
When I got to the lecture hall, it was already half full. Fluorescent lights humming their eternal hymn of suffering.
And there she was.
Middle row. Headphones on. Notebook open to a clean full page of cutesy colourful notes.
Her pink-ish hair fell over her shoulder in a very satisfying way. Clean. Pretty.
Uncharacteristic to the other people in this class, who were either sleeping or were the face of insomnia.
Messy hair in a bun. Glasses. Big eyebags. Baggy clothes.
In other words, me.
I glanced at IRyS again as I walked to my seat.
Does she need to look preppy during a finance class?
Besides, did she change clothes from the practice?
Wow.
I slipped into a seat a couple rows behind her.
The professor started rambling about supply chains. Or maybe he could be discussing the heat death of the universe.
Dunno. Hard to hear over the thrash metal in my ears.
I opened my laptop.
And somewhere in the back of my skull, the scene from practice replayed.
IRyS stepping in to cover a rhythm right when I fumbled, the small smile she gave like it was no big deal. Reassuring in a way I hadn't expected.
I shook the thought off.
Focus, Bae. Lecture. Notes.
My laptop refused to connect to the campus Wi-Fi.
Shocking.
Revolutionary, even.
I resorted to the downloaded songs on there.
NephilimP.
A japanese anonymous vocaloid producer.
I found them quite recently, but it hit me HARD. I got literally addicted.
Actually most of
The mix of genres they use is so weird, but at the same time it just works.
Actually, I just remembered I downloaded a cover they did yesterday.
Still haven't listened to it.
I checked the title:
"HERE COMES HOPE –"
Huh. Weird. This song is theirs, though? Why are they covering it–
Then I read further.
"– SelfCover"
HHHUUUUUH??
SELFCOVER?
Meaning, they'll actually sing???
With their voice?
I clicked so fast I cracked my finger.
I practically skipped the instrumental intro, hungry to know how the producer I love actually sounds like.
And then—
The voice hits me.
Feminine.
Soft.
Floaty.
Clean.
Gentle in this melancholy-but-sweet way that hit right in the chest.
The kind of voice that sits in your ribs.
I blinked. Paused. Replayed.
...Why did it sound familiar?
I leaned forward a little, eyes lowering toward the subtle timbre, the breath control, the way she handled the softer consonants—
“…wait.”
I looked up.
IRyS was still in the same spot, tapping her pen in a slow, consistent rhythm.
Drumming.
I listened to the drums on the song.
The same pattern, the weird counting thing.
1, 2– 3, 4.
I focused on the voice again.
The tiny vocal smile she did when she softened a chorus. I’d heard her quietly sing during warmups at practice, but never paid attention.
Warmth pooled under my skin, creeping up the back of my neck.
I glanced at IRyS again.
Just a glance.
Not obvious.
No fucking way.
She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear with this gentle, careful little motion I’d never actually watched before.
Her profile in the dim lecture lighting was… pretty.
Like, genuinely pretty.
Had she always been that pretty?
I shouldn’t be noticing this.
I wasn’t supposed to be noticing this.
She shifted in her seat. The headphone cord brushed my collarbone. I felt something weird flutter in my chest like my heart had tripped over itself.
Okay. Calm down.
I forced my gaze back to my screen, pretending to take notes while the instrumental outro of her cover faded out.
My face felt hot.
It's her. It sounds exactly like her. Holy shitshishtishit–
Somewhere between guitar practice and this accidental click, something had shifted.
And it wasn't good at all.
The rest of my day was way more normal.
I was lucky enough to not have any roomates on my dorm yet, as it wss the start of the year.
Soon enough, though, someone might appear.
So I made the most of the quiet and slept like a rock.
Next day, I showed up to practice early.
Not on purpose.
I just... woke up early.
...After dreaming of IRyS.
Why are people always prettier when you dream of them?
Anyway, I simply couldn't sit still in my dorm.
So I went to practice, hoping to see Calli and distract myself before IRyS got there.
I pushed open the practice room door.
And IRyS was already there.
Because of fucking course she was.
Sitting behind her kit, headphones in, tapping out a rhythm on the snare with her bare hands. No sticks. Just her fingers, light and precise.
She looked up when I walked in. Taking one headphone out her left ear.
"Oh. Hey."
"Hey."
Smooth, Bae. Very natural.
I set my guitar case down, fumbling with the latches more than I needed to.
IRyS tilted her head slightly, watching me.
"You good?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"You're having trouble opening that." She pointed.
Indeed, I had my finger basically trapped under the case like an idiot.
Shit. Why is she so observant?
I forced a laugh, pulling my guitar out.
"Just tired. Didn't sleep much."
"Mm."
She didn't sound convinced.
I plugged into my amp, twisting knobs with way too much focus. Checking the tone. Adjusting the gain. Anything to not look at her.
But I could feel her eyes on me.
"You wanna warm up?" She asked naturslly.
"Sure."
I strummed a chord. It came out clean. Too clean, honestly. I hadn't even turned the volume up yet.
IRyS started tapping her kick pedal, a slow, steady pulse.
1, 2— 3, 4.
My stomach did a weird flip.
Don't think about it. Do not think about it.
I started playing along, falling into the rhythm. Muscle memory took over, and for a second it felt normal again.
We played for a while. Nothing complicated. Just warming up.
But the whole time, I was hyper-aware of her.
The way she moved behind the kit. Effortless. Controlled.
The way her shoulders rolled with each hit.
The way she'd close her eyes sometimes, just for a second, like she was listening to something only she could hear.
I missed a note.
Let's hope she didn't notice.
She opened her eyes.
FUCK.
The song ended soon after.
She flipped her hair, letting it fall over one of her eyes. Seeing that made my chest physically hurt.
"You sure you're okay?"
"Y– Yeah. I'm... fine."
"You keep messing up."
"I'm just—"
"Distracted?"
Her voice was calm. Curious.
Not accusing. Just… observing.
I played with my guitar strap, running a hand through my hair.
"Yeah. Maybe."
IRyS stopped drumming. She rested her hands on her thighs, leaning forward slightly.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Okay then."
She didn't push. Just waited.
That made it worse somehow.
I exhaled, crossing my arms.
"I found your channel."
IRyS blinked.
Then, slowly, her expression shifted.
Embarassed.
"My channel?"
"Yeah. NephilimP."
She swore under her breath, quietly.
"Shit.. I knew I shouldn't have posted my actual voice..."
I got very nervous.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I actually have been following you for a while. Without knowing."
She smiled nervously too.
"Oh, no! It's totally fine, it's not your fault. I just got a bit disappointed that... I mean, my identity got found out so quick."
She chuckled.
She leaned back, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
She analyzed me. Making me realize what happened.
Fuck. I just told her I was a fan. Of her.
"So... What did you think?" She asked.
"It– It was... good."
"...Just good?"
"I mean, your voice is… really nice–"
"Just nice?"
She's fucking teasing me.
I shifted my weight, suddenly very aware of how small the room felt.
"Yeah... Nice."
IRyS stood up, stepping out from behind the kit.
She moved slowly. Deliberately.
Like she had all the time in the world.
"So that's why you've been acting weird since you walked in. You're a fan~"
"I haven't been acting weird—"
"You have."
She stopped a few feet away, arms loose at her sides.
"I'm honoured though. Your guitar skills are so good... I mean, I can't write guitar parts for the life of me."
I got very embarrased hearing her praise.
I even started gesturing with my hands nervously.
"...I'm not—"
"Stop. You are."
She took another step. Looking closer.
"And you're blushing..."
Huh?
"I'm not blushing."
"You are. And you keep looking at me weirdly."
She was right in front of me now.
Close enough that I could see the little details I'd never paid attention to before.
The way her long lashes caught the light.
The texture of her sweater that always looked so comfortable, yet so stilish.
The way she smelled... Addicting.
Something clean and faintly sweet.
Practically vanilla ice cream as a person.
"IRyS…"
My chest tightened, moving up and down.
I felt in need of her.
"Hm?" She tilted her head to the side.
Ugh. Cute.
Her voice was soft. Almost a whisper.
"What's up?"
She reached out, fingertips brushing between the strap of my guitar and my shoulder.
The movement brought her even closer.
Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off her.
"You're just easy to read."
Her hand lingered near my shoulder, not quite touching.
"You found my channel. You listened to my voice. And now you're looking at me differently."
My throat felt dry.
"Bae."
The way she said my name made something flip in my chest.
Quiet. Certain.
Like she knew exactly what she was doing.
"You don't have to pretend."
I swallowed hard. Chuckling.
"I don't know what you're talking about–"
"Yes, you do."
Her fingers finally made contact, trailing lightly down my arm.
It was barely a touch. Feather-light.
But it sent a shiver straight through me.
She was so close now.
Too close.
Not close enough.
"If you want... We can do it."
She said.
"What?" I gasped.
She smiled. "What?"
Her voice dropped lower, softer.
I couldn't think straight.
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure she could hear it.
I stood frozen.
"Damn, girl. Speak." She chuckled. Laughing at me.
I laughed too.
"Sorry, I'm just–"
She pulled me into a hug, hands settling on my waist.
It surprised me. But it felt comforting. Quiet.
For just a second, before her hands started moving, pressuring my hips.
"Is this okay?" She asked me, in an almost pleading tone.
"Hm... Uh... I–"
I could not speak anymore. Her body pressing up against me was too much stimulation at the same time.
She kept leaning down into me.
The slight height difference made her need to bend just a bit over me.
I was losing it.
"We… we can't."
"Is it that we can't, or that you don't want it?" She asked. Distancing a bit, looking down at me.
"We can't." I said.
"Calli and Kiara. They'll be here soon—"
Her expression changed to surprise.
"Oh, shit– True. I almost forgot."
She sighed.
"Hah... ssssshoot."
Then she pulled out her phone, typing something quickly.
"I can buy us more time."
"What are you—"
She showed me the screen.
A message to the group chat:
hey can someone grab me a coffee? im dying lol
She hit send.
Then she looked back at me, slipping her phone into her pocket.
"Kiara will insist on getting pastries too. They'll take at least thirty minutes."
My brain was short-circuiting.
"You… planned this?"
"No. Not really."
She stepped even closer, resting her arms lightly on my shoulders.
"But I can adapt."
Oh my god.
"IRyS, I—"
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to."
Her voice was calm. Reassuring.
But her eyes were dark. Focused.
"But if you want to…"
She leaned in, her lips hovering near my ear.
"I can teach you."
"...Teach me?"
"Mm."
Her hand slid around to the back of my waist, pulling me just a little closer.
"You've never done this before, have you?"
She was playing with me.
Underestimating me.
Still, I didn't respond.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her expression softening.
"That's okay."
Her thumb traced a slow circle against my back.
"I'll go slow."
This is insane.
But I didn't move.
Didn't pull away.
Her other hand came up, fingertips brushing against my jaw.
Tilting my face up just slightly.
"Just follow my lead."
And then she tried to kissed me.
But I put a single finger on her lips.
Stopping her.
"You're that desperate?~"
I asked.
why did I do that why did i ask that why am i like this
She seemed completely caught off guard.
"Wh–"
Got you.
My hands found her waist, pulling her closer.
Now. And only now. Kising her.
She made a soft sound against my mouth that sent heat pooling low in my stomach.
She went slower than I expected. More deliberate.
She was guiding me. Teaching me.
Her hand slid into my hair, fingers tangling gently, and I gasped against her lips.
She smiled.
"Good job."
"Shut up."
She let out a low laugh, her hands tightening on my hips, and suddenly we were moving.
She walked me backward until my back hit the wall, her body pressed against mine.
"IRyS."
"Too much?"
"No."
"Good."
She found my neck, and I bit back a sound I didn't know I could make.
"You're doing great."
"Stop—commenting—"
"So sorry~ Can't help it–"
Her hands slid under the hem of my shirt, just barely, fingers warm against my skin.
"You're cute when you're flustered."
"I'll break you."
"Do it."
She kissed me again, and this time I didn't hold back.
My hands found her hair, pulling her closer, and she made a sound that was almost a moan.
"Bae—"
"What?"
"Couch."
"What?"
"Couch. Now."
We stumbled backward, still kissing, until the back of her legs hit the couch and she sat down hard.
I didn't hesitate.
I climbed into her lap, straddling her, and her hands immediately found my hips.
"Fuck—"
"Language."
"Shut the fuck up."
She grinned up at me, breathless, eyes dark.
I leaned down—
And the door slammed open.
"Hey! We got some new bandma—"
Kiara froze mid-sentence.
Her hand was still raised, pointing enthusiastically at nothing.
"..."
Calli stood next to her, holding a coffee carrier, her expression slowly morphing from confusion to horror.
Behind them stood two people I'd never seen before.
A tall girl with long dark blue hair and a neutral expression that radiated judgment.
And another girl with purpleish hair, holding a tablet, eyes wide.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
I scrambled off IRyS' lap so fast I almost fell over.
"THIS ISN'T—"
Calli's voice came out strangled.
"WHAT THE FUCK."
Band practice was awkward after that.