The warehouse was quieter than usual—a lull in the storm before tonight’s chaos. Faint echoes of guitar strums bounced from the rafters as Isa noodled on her instrument, half-lost in a melody she probably wasn’t even aware she was playing. Louis sat on the couch nearby, staring at the ceiling, one foot tapping in slow, absent rhythm.

It had been a few days since Sona left.

She hadn’t said much—just that she needed to find someone. Now her absence felt like a missing note in a song, and Louis couldn’t help but notice.

“What’s Sona up to, anyway?” he asked, trying to sound casual, though his voice gave him away.

Isa glanced over with a smirk. “Aw, you miss our little firecracker, don’t you?”

Louis sat up, already flustered. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” she grinned, leaning over the arm of the couch. “Face it. You’ve got it bad for redheads who could probably kick your ass.”

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like that. I just… I don’t know. She’s cool. And when she’s around… things feel different.”

Isa raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“Like déjà vu,” Louis said slowly. “Like I’ve known her longer than I actually have. It’s weird. Every time she sings, it’s like…” He trailed off, struggling to put the feeling into words. “It hits.”

Arven, seated nearby and tapping lightly on his practice pad, spoke up without looking up. “Sometimes you meet people who feel like they’ve always been there. You don’t know why. You just feel it.”

Louis nodded, his voice softer now. “Yeah. I feel like… I want to protect that.”

Isa’s teasing faded into something gentler. “It’s okay to care, Louis. We’ve all got our reasons for being here. Maybe she’s yours.”

Louis looked down at his hands. “She’s been through a lot, hasn’t she?”

Isa hesitated. “Yeah… more than you know.”

Before Louis could reply, the warehouse garage door let out a clank-clank-clank and began to rise.

“Pops?” Arven called out.

A familiar shape appeared, wiping his hands with a rag—Pops, their silent, ever-reliable roadie. He gave a single nod as he entered.

Arven walked over to him. “Are the folks at Amp Rush set up and ready?”

Pops gave a grunt, followed by another nod, then held up two fingers—two hours.

“Copy that,” Arven said. “Tell ’em we’ll be there.”

Suddenly, the warehouse door creaked open again.

“Man, this place hasn’t changed a bit. Still smells like smoke and coffee.”

The voice boomed across the room.

Louis sat up straight.

Isa blinked.

Arven raised a brow.

The figure stepped in like he owned the place, dragging a backpack over one shoulder, head turned to Pops—until he finally looked toward the couch.

And froze.

“NO WAY.”

Louis’s eyes widened. “Isaac?!”

Isaac broke into a grin and practically sprinted across the room. “Dude! You actually joined the band?!”

Louis stood just in time to get half-tackled into a hug.

“I thought I was hallucinating when Pops pointed out your name on the roster,” Isaac said, pulling back and eyeing him with disbelief. “You—you actually did it!”

“Yeah,” Louis laughed. “Didn’t expect to see you here, either.”

“I’m everywhere since joining Pops,” Isaac said with a wink. “Just like bad news.”

Isa chuckled. “Nice to see your ego survived the winter.”

Isaac gave her a finger-gun and turned back to the group. “Anyway, I come bearing news. Roadies are in position, final setup for Amp Rush is underway. Stage is up, lights are lit, and the beer’s lukewarm—but we’ll fix that.”

He paused, lowering his voice just a touch. “But there’s chatter. Cops are testing new tech—scanners, bots, facial recognition stuff. Could get dicey if they roll out mid-show.”

Arven crossed his arms. “Figures. They’re always late to the party.”

“We’ll keep sharp,” Isa added. “Like always.”

Louis nodded, though his eyes flicked toward the door again. Still no Sona.

Just as that thought landed—click.

The side door swung open.

A silhouette stepped through.

“Were you really gonna see a show without me?” she asked, voice laced with mock indignation.

Every head turned.

Sona stood in the doorway, hands in her pockets, jacket fluttering slightly from the breeze behind her. A wry grin curled on her lips as she raised a single middle finger.

“Tsk,” Isa said, walking over. “Back from ghost hunting?”

“You missed me,” Sona said.

“I missed the peace and quiet.”

They bumped fists.

Arven gave her a nod. “Good timing. We roll out in half hour.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Sona said, then turned to Louis.

He stood there like he wasn’t sure if he should say something—or just smile forever.

She walked up to him, slow and easy. Her eyes were tired, but bright. “Hey.”

“…Hey.”

There was a pause. For a second, it felt like the whole room fell away.

“You ready to rock?” she asked, voice soft—but certain.

Louis’s smile came slow, but steady. “Yeah,” he said. “With you? Always.”

She smirked, then turned toward the others. “Let’s go raise some hell.”

And just like that, the rhythm of the band snapped back into place.