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Dev
The studio Tama had shown me — a converted church in Grey Lynn with vaulted ceilings, hardwood floors, and an echo that sounded sick – was promising.
Too promising, if you asked Connor.
“Mate,” he said, tilting his head back like he was about to sing to the stained-glass windows, “this is where cults record their Christmas albums.”
“Perfect,” I said, dropping my case. “We’re basically a cult.”
Tama was already at the console, muttering in a mix of English and Te Reo that sounded half like prayer, half like a death threat. Cables snaked across the floor, mic stands leaning like drunk trees. The whole place smelled of dust, incense, and someone else’s long-gone sermon.
Connor set up drums with monk-like precision. Mateo fiddled with pedals, chasing tones only he could hear. Simon filmed the chaos, narrating in his best Attenborough: “And here we see the lesser-spotted rockstar attempting to tune his own guitar…”
We spent an hour just chasing Tama’s brutal honesty.
“Flat.”
“Too clean.”
“Stop showing off.”
“Play it like you mean it, not like you’re proving you can.”
By the second hour, Connor was sulking, Mateo was swearing at his amp, and I was half a second from punching a stained-glass Jesus.
But then –
One run.
One chorus.
Connor hit harder. Mateo locked in. Owen grinned like he’d found the groove hiding under the pews.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was alive.
Tama leaned back, finally cracking a smile. “Now that’s worth recording.”
I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath since Heathrow.
Maybe this wasn’t just running away.
Maybe it could actually work.
Sadie
The pub was chaos by the time they came in. Same booth as last time, like they’d already claimed it. Connor waving Gray over before I could even get near them.
I knew that look on Gray’s face — alight, nervous, but hungry. He moved toward them with a stack of menus and Connor met him halfway, pulling him into that bro-clasp thing that’s half hug, half checking if the other one’s ribs are still there. I watched Gray recalibrate in real time — steadier, taller — like standing next to Connor reset something inside him.
I kept pulling pints, but I could feel Dev’s eyes. Always.
A lull cracked open long enough for me to breathe. Dev took it like a cue and wandered up to prop on the bar, elbows down, smirk set to mildly infuriating.
“Thought you were allergic to waiting your turn,” I said, reaching for the gin.
“Only for bad reasons.” He tipped his chin toward me. “Good ones, I queue.”
“Imagine that,” I deadpanned. “Ruin: models of civic behaviour.”
He laughed, low. Then his voice dropped, the kind of soft that makes you lean in whether you mean to or not.
“First day in the new space,” he said. “Converted church in Grey Lynn. Tama ran us like he was exorcising something. Called me out on take two — ‘Play it like a person, not a press release.’”
“Sexy,” I said. “Nothing like a light demonic purge to set the vibe.”
“Come sit in,” he said, easy. “Pick a day. Watch us work. Heckle me when I deserve it.”
“You mean… constantly?”
He grinned. “Dress for cardio. We might run the set twice.”
I snorted. “Pass. I don’t want to accidentally join a cult.”
“Too late,” he said, and for a second the room went quieter around the edges.
Before I could think of a comeback, Connor hijacked the jukebox. Chairs scraped back. Laughter rose over the speakers. By the second track he’d hauled Gray up with him, both of them moving like they owned the place.
Then Connor stripped off his shirt. Casual. Effortless. Free in a way that made the crowd cheer.
I looked at Gray.
The lights caught his face — half awe, half disbelief. Like he’d just been handed a glimpse of something he didn’t think he was allowed to want. Around the flat, he still changed in the bathroom — the only room in the house with a lockable door. Still tugged his hoodie tight if anyone walked past his room. Still kept himself hidden. Not yet.
But now Connor leaned close, said something I couldn’t hear, grinning that reckless grin of his. A dare. A promise.
And then it happened.
The shift.
The choosing.
The moment he stopped hiding.
His hands shook at the hem of his shirt. Hesitation — an old instinct. Then a breath. A decision.
And he lifted it.
Slowly. Deliberately. Like he was unspooling a lifetime of apologies.
I swear the whole room inhaled. My chest ached. His scars were still tender, still healing — but his joy… God, his joy was ferocious.
I blinked hard, trying to keep my breath steady, and suddenly Dev wasn’t across the bar anymore. He’d slipped around the end and come to stand beside me, quiet and sure, like he knew exactly where he was needed.
His hand settled at the small of my back — warm, steadying — and he stood shoulder to shoulder with me as Gray lifted his arms and the crowd roared.
I didn’t try to hide the tears. Dev didn’t pretend he couldn’t see them. He just stayed there, body solid against mine, sharing the moment like it belonged to him too.
“Big deal, yeah?” he murmured, voice thick with something I didn’t dare name.
I nodded, unable to speak. Huge. Life-bending. A milestone you only get to witness once.
And when Gray threw his arms up, laughing like the world finally had room for him, the whole place lifted with him.
“C’mon,” Dev said softly. “Let’s go be part of it.”
Before my brain caught up, his hand slid to the small of my back — not pushing, just guiding — and suddenly we were out from behind the bar, moving into the crush of bodies. Heat, lights, laughter. Gray’s grin blazing from the middle of it all.
Dev didn’t try anything. Just moved with me, shoulder brushing mine, hips almost in time with the mess of music Connor had unleashed. Close enough that I could feel his breath at my temple when he laughed at something Gray did.
I wasn’t dancing, not really. Just letting the room carry me. Letting him steady me through it.
And for a heartbeat — one tiny, treacherous beat — I let myself lean back into him.
Gray’s grin was incandescent, Connor at his side, Ruin feeding the chaos with every stomp and shout.
Across the crush I caught sight of Jasper, phone held high, filming Gray like he was bottling lightning. Mateo was there too, shoulder to shoulder with him, close enough that I should’ve clocked it.
I didn’t. Not then. Not with Gray glowing like the fucking sun.
By the time I glanced back, the two of them had slipped into the crowd and vanished.
And I didn’t think of that either. Not then.
If you were wondering where Jasper and Mateo disappeared to after this…
Their story continues in Rough Edit over on Wattpad.
Just saying. 🖤