HELLO GANG did u miss me...sorry for not updating for two weeks guys, but to make it up to u I decided to drop smth for valentines day!
this is a multi one shots (seperate) for hollis, roman, Jonah, nate, and Ryan!
all chapters will have a special flower and song representing them. enjoy! I wrote these over a period of weeks lol ignoretrhe bad writing and inconsistency
like brain fried. shoulders tight. you almost forget it’s valentine’s day because work swallowed the whole day.
you unlock your apartment and step inside, already reaching to kick your shoes off.
then you notice the lights are dimmer than usual.
you frown.
and then you see it.
a single rose on the floor.
you just stare at it for a second like your brain needs to buffer.
“…what?”
you close the door slowly and take a few steps forward.
there’s another rose. then another. leading toward the living room.
you feel your chest tighten a little.
you follow them.
and when you round the corner you actually stop breathing for a second.
the table is set up, candles lit, plates already there. glasses poured. it’s not over-the-top. it’s still your apartment, your slightly messy space. but he tried. you can tell he tried.
you let out this quiet laugh under your breath.
“no way.”
“you like it?”
his voice comes from behind you and you physically jump.
you turn and there he is, leaning against the wall like he’s been waiting to see your face this whole time. bouquet in his hand. hair pushed back. wearing that button down he only pulls out when he wants to look serious.
you just stare at him.
“jonah.”
he walks over slowly, almost cautious. like he’s not sure if you’re about to cry or roast him.
“happy valentine’s day,” he says, softer now.
you look at the flowers. then at him. then back at the setup.
“you did all this after rehearsal?”
he shrugs. “had help with the timing. not the cooking though. that was all me so… lower your expectations.”
you laugh and take the bouquet from him. your fingers brush and he doesn’t pull away right away.
“this is insane,” you murmur.
“good insane?”
you nod.
he kisses you then, his hand slides to your waist and you can feel he’s a little tense.
you pull back slightly. “why are you nervous?”
“because i wanted it to be good,” he admits. “you deserve good.”
he pulls your chair out for you and you sit, still kind of in shock. dinner isn’t perfect but he watches you every time you take a bite like he’s waiting for a grade.
“stop staring at me,” you mumble.
“i can’t.”
you kick his leg under the table and he grins.
after dinner he doesn’t rush anything. he just stands, holds his hand out.
“come outside.”
you let him guide you to the balcony. the air is cold enough to wake you up fully. the city lights glimmers below you,
he pours wine into two glasses he clearly hid out here earlier. you raise an eyebrow.
“you’ve been planning this for a while, huh.”
“maybe,” he says.
you both lean against the railing. quiet for a second, and it’s comfortable.
then he sets his glass down.
that’s when you know something’s coming.
he turns to you fully, no jokes now.
“i’m not good at speeches,” he starts. “you know that.”
“yeah. you ramble.”
“thanks.”
you smile a little.
he takes your hands anyway.
“i just… i don’t want this to ever feel temporary. you know? like some fun chapter before the next thing. i don’t see a next thing without you in it.”
your throat tightens.
he swallows.
“i want the boring days. the tired days. you coming home stressed and me ordering food because i burned dinner. i want all of it. with you.”
it’s not flashy… he’s not trying to sound poetic.
he just means it.
you step closer without even thinking.
“you’re such an idiot,” you whisper.
“why.”
“because now i’m going to cry.”
he laughs softly and presses his forehead against yours.
“don’t cry. i worked too hard for this makeup.”
you shove him lightly but you’re smiling and he kisses you again, deeper this time.
and somewhere in the distance, fireworks start going off. probably not even for you, probably some event downtown.
but they light up the sky anyway.
you pull back just enough to look at him.
“did you plan that too?”
he smirks. “i’ll take credit.”
and for once, you don’t feel tired at all.
HOLLIS
after a fight, hollis comes by with a small gesture, hoping to make things right.
flower: daisy - symbols new beginnings song: DAISY - 2hollis
valentine’s day feels stupid this year.
you’ve been staring at your phone all afternoon, not because you’re waiting for a text, but because you’re trying not to send one.
last week was bad.
not a small argument. not a petty misunderstanding. it was the type where voices get sharp and things slip out that you can’t take back, the kind where you both went quiet afterward instead of fixing it.
you haven’t really talked since.
just surface-level, safe, careful.
you’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, back against the couch, lights off except for the lamp in the corner. you didn’t decorate. didn’t make plans. didn’t tell anyone you were free.
you tell yourself you don’t care.
there’s a knock at the door.
you freeze.
he wouldn’t.
you wait a second. maybe it’s a neighbor.
another knock. softer this time.
you get up slowly, heart beating harder than you want it to. when you open the door, there he is.
Hollis looks tired.
he holds up a small paper bag.
“i brought food,” he says quietly. “you didn’t answer my text.”
you swallow. “i saw it.”
“yeah. i figured.”
there’s a long pause where neither of you move.
“can i come in?” he asks.
you hesitate. just enough for him to notice.
then you step aside.
he walks in slowly, like he doesn’t fully feel welcome yet. his eyes scan the room, taking in the low light, the fact that you didn’t do anything for today.
“you weren’t doing anything?” he asks.
“no.”
“me neither.”
he sets the bag down on the coffee table and sits on the floor without asking, back against the couch where you were earlier. he doesn’t try to touch you. doesn’t try to close the space.
you stay standing for a second before sitting down across from him.
the silence is thick.
“i don’t want to fight,” he says first.
“then don’t,” you reply.
his jaw tightens slightly.
“i’ve been replaying that night in my head all week,” he admits. “every word.”
you look down at your hands.
“so have i.”
he nods slowly.
“i shouldn’t have said you don’t support me,” he says. “that wasn’t fair.”
you blink. you weren’t expecting that first.
“you don’t,” he adds quickly, correcting himself. “you don’t make me feel unsupported. i was frustrated and i took it out on you.”
“i shouldn’t have said you’re selfish,” you say quietly.
he looks up at you immediately.
silence again.
you hate that you meant it in the moment, n you hate that he probably believed it.
“i just feel like i’m competing with everything in your life sometimes,” you say. “the group, the schedule, the pressure. it’s like i get what’s left.”
he exhales slowly, rubbing his hands together.
“i don’t know how to balance it,” he says honestly. “i’m still figuring it out. but that doesn’t mean you’re an afterthought.”
you don’t respond right away.
he looks at you like he’s trying to decide how much to say.
“when you said you were tired of trying,” he continues, voice lower now, “that scared me.”
your throat tightens.
“i’m not tired of you,” you say. “i’m tired of feeling like i’m losing you.”
he shifts closer this time.
“you’re not losing me,” he says.you search his face for doubt.
there isn’t any.
“i don’t want us to end because we’re both stubborn,” he adds. “or because i’m bad at communicating. i don’t want to wake up in a few months and realize we let something good fall apart over ego.”
you let out a shaky breath.
“so what are we doing then?” you ask.
he reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls something out slowly.
it’s small.
you frown slightly.
he unfolds his hand.
a single daisy.
not wrapped, not dramatic, just one simple white daisy with a slightly crooked stem.
“i know everyone does roses,” he says. “but daisies mean new beginnings. or whatever. i googled it.”
despite everything, you almost laugh.
“of course you did.”
“i didn’t want to bring something that felt… fake,” he continues. “i don’t want to pretend last week didn’t happen. i just don’t want it to be the thing that ends us.”
he holds the daisy out toward you.
“i’m not promising i’ll never mess up again,” he says quietly. “i probably will. but i am promising i’m not going anywhere. if you’re willing to keep trying with me.”
your eyes sting.
you reach out slowly and take the flower from him.
“you’re so bad at grand gestures,” you whisper.
he huffs out a laugh. “i know.”
“but this is… good.”
he looks relieved in a way that makes your chest ache.
you move closer on your own this time until your knees touch. his hand slides carefully to your waist, like he’s asking permission without words.
“i don’t want to almost lose you again,” he murmurs.
“then don’t,” you reply.
he leans forward and kisses you, when you pull back, your forehead rests against his.
“happy valentine’s day,” he says quietly.
you look down at the daisy in your hand.
“happy new beginnings,” you correct.
ROMAN
your first valentine’s without him is quiet, lonely, and full of memories.
flowers: black dahlias - symbols broken trust, love song: sad girl - Lana del ray
valentine’s hits differently when it’s the first one without him.
you wake up and immediately feel it in your chest, a hollow space where anticipation used to live
. it’s quiet in the apartment, too quiet, like the walls are holding their breath. you make coffee mechanically, scroll through your phone, but there’s nothing from him. no texts, no calls. not that you expected any. not anymore.
the fight last week was sharp, precise. no yelling, no slamming doors. just words cutting through like knives wrapped in silk. you told him you needed space. he told you he couldn’t give it. and then it ended. Just like that.
you sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall, trying to convince yourself it’s okay. that it was necessary. that it wasn’t sudden. that you’re strong enough to handle this. the coffee grows cold in your mug.
your phone buzzes. you don’t pick it up. it’s probably him. maybe he’s checking in. maybe he regrets. maybe he wants to fix it. but the thought of speaking to him makes your throat tighten.
instead, you wander to the living room and slump into the couch. you find yourself opening the drawer where you keep the little things: the ticket stubs from his shows, the hoodie that still smells like him. you hold it for a moment, then toss it back. it’s too heavy.
you remember the last time you kissed him. the way he pressed against you,, like he didn’t want to hurt you but couldn’t stop himself from being honest in the moment. the memory makes your chest ache, a twisting ache that has no relief.
evening comes, and the city outside is alive with couples and laughter. you feel like you’re looking through a window at another world. you thought maybe, just maybe, he’d show up. that maybe you’d forgive him in a blink, because love doesn’t always make sense.
but he doesn’t. the black dahlias he got u a month ago sits on your counter, dead and withering away.
you don’t cry. not yet. you just let the quiet settle, like an unwelcome blanket you can’t shake off. you pick up your phone again, scrolling through your messages until you stop at the last one from him. it’s simple. i’m sorry. i wish i could stay.
you read it over and over, and it doesn’t get easier. it never will.
you place your phone down, hug the hoodie to your chest, and let yourself sink into the emptiness.
it’s valentine’s day. he’s gone. and even though every rational part of you knows it was for the best, a piece of you still wants him here.
and that piece will want him for a long time.
RYAN
a calm valentine’s night turns bittersweet when you realize timing is working against you.
flowers: black roses - symbols the end song: dont smile - sabrina
valentine’s day with ryan feels normal.
that’s the worst part.
he picks you up like he always does, one hand on your waist when you get in the car. he kisses your cheek, then your lips. but there’s… something in his eyes.
not distance.
not anger.
just… thought.
dinner is simple.he holds your hand across the table. rubs his thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly.
you both laugh. you talk about random things. memories. a trip you took last summer. the time you got lost driving and ended up at the beach at midnight.
and every time you laugh, it feels a little too important. like you’re both trying to memorize the sound.
you’ve known for a while.
no one said it out loud, but you both feel it.
wrong timing. different paths. things pulling you in opposite directions. love isn’t the issue.
life is.
after dinner, instead of dropping you home, he drives somewhere quiet. an overlook you’ve been to before.
you sit on the hood of his car like you have a hundred times. his jacket around your shoulders. his arm around you.
for a long time, neither of you speak.
you rest your head against him and whisper, “we’re not okay, are we?”
he exhales slowly.
no defensiveness. no pretending.
“…no.”
your chest tightens but you’re not surprised.
“i don’t want to lose you,” you say.
“i know.”
he says it like it hurts him too.
“but i don’t want us to start resenting each other either,” he adds quietly.
it’s not explosive, it’s not messy.
it’s mature.
and that makes it worse.
you pull back to look at him and his eyes are already glassy, even though he’s trying to stay composed. he brushes his thumb under your eye when a tear slips down.
“i wish we met later,” he says softly.
and there it is.
the line that breaks everything.
not “i don’t love you.”
not “this isn’t working.”
jus wrong timing.
he disappears into his car or a second while you sit awkwardly, arms wrapped around yourself.
when he comes back, there’s something in his hands.
a small bouquet, black roses.
you blink at them, confused at first.
he walks toward you slowly.
“I didn’t want to get red,” he says quietly. “That felt like lying.”
your throat tightens.
he holds them out to you, not smiling,
“Black roses mean endings,” he adds. “But they also mean… rebirth. New chapters.”
Your fingers tremble slightly when you take them.
“You’re unbelievable,” you whisper, and it isn’t an insult. It’s heartbreak.
“I didn’t want tonight to feel fake,” he says. “If this is the last Valentine’s we get… I wanted it to be honest.”
He steps closer, one hand coming up to cup your face like he’s done a hundred times before.
“I love you,” he says.
Not past tense.
Present.
You kiss him like its your onlylifeline.
It’s goodbye.
When you pull away, his forehead rests against yours for a second longer than it should.
iI love you.,” he murmurs.
You hold the black roses tighter against your chest.
NATE
nate spends the whole day treating you, ending with a grand, over the top gesture.
song: best part - Daniel flower: tulips symbols passion
valentine’s with nate never starts small.
you wake up before your alarm because your phone is buzzing nonstop on your nightstand. when you roll over, there’s already a text from him sent at 7:02 a.m.
open the door.
you blink at it.
another buzz.
now.
you don’t even question it. you slide out of bed, still in one of his shirts, and pad to the door.
when you open it, he’s standing there like he hasn’t slept.“good morning,” he says, smiling slow.
behind him is a coffee tray from your favorite place.
you don’t say anything. you just move aside so he can come in.
“you’re insane,” you mumble, taking your drink.
“i know,” he replies easily. “be ready in an hour.”
“for what?”
“for valentine’s.”
you raise an eyebrow. “the entire day?”
“the entire day.”
and he means it.
the first stop is brunch, but not casual brunch. not “let’s grab something quick.” he books the private corner table at the place you always point at when you walk by and say, one day.
today is that day.
you don’t even glance at the prices. you never do when you’re with him. he orders like he’s known the menu for weeks. you lean back in your chair, sipping something sparkling, watching him watch you.
he doesn’t look around the room. he looks at you.
“you’re staring,” you say.
“yeah.”
“why?”
“because you look good sitting there.”
you don’t argue. you let him look.
after brunch, he takes you shopping.he makes you try things on, waits outside the dressing room, and when you step out in something you know is expensive, he doesn’t hesitate.
“get it.”
“nate—”
“don’t start.”
you smile because you weren’t going too. you let him buy it. you let him spoil you. he likes it., you like it. it’s balanced.
by mid-afternoon your in a hotel suite he booked just for the view. floor-to-ceiling windows. champagne already chilling. your bags from earlier set neatly by the couch.
“you’re ridiculous,” you say, kicking off your heels.
“i know,” he says again, pulling you in by the waist.
he kisses you passionately. “i love you,” he says against your mouth, casual like it’s obvious.
it is obvious.
dinner is worse.
private chef. candlelight. you don’t feel awkward about it. you don’t feel guilty. you feel taken care of.
he feeds you a bite of something overpriced and you laugh, pushing his hand away.
“you’re doing too much.”
“i’m not even close.”
as the night winds down, he doesn’t rush you out. he just sits there across from you, chin resting on his hand, studying you like he’s memorizing something.
“what?” you say.
“nothing.”
“that’s not nothing.”
he stands instead of answering and walks toward the door of the private room. for a second you think the night’s over.
then the door opens wider.
and you actually go quiet.
tulips.
an entire arrangement of them, not a cute bouquet, not something you can hold in one hand. it’s massive. layers of soft pink and white and cream spilling out of wrapping paper like they’re barely contained.
your favorite.
you stand up slowly. “you did not.”
he walks back toward you with them like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“of course i did.”
you step closer, touching the petals carefully.
“how did you even—”
“i’ve known they’re your favorite since the second date,” he says. “you think i don’t pay attention?”
your throat tighten a little.
they’re fresh. perfect. over-the-top in the way only he would dare to be.
“i wanted you to walk into a room and see something bigger than you expected,” he says quietly. “because that’s how i feel about you.”
that’s the only semi-speech he gives, and it doesn’t feel rehearsed.
you look up at him.
“you’re so in love with me,” you say softly.
he doesn’t deny it, doesn’t joke it off.
“yeah,” he says. “i am.”
you set the tulips down carefully and step into him, hands sliding up his chest.
“i don’t do halfway,” he murmurs into your hair. “not with you.”
you believe him.
and when you look back at the ridiculous, beautiful wall of tulips behind you, you realize this isn’t about showing off.
its about showing up.
all day. every way.
since it looks like dirty little secret is in the lead… for the rock band aspect of the fic, jonah HAS to be the drummer since he said that he played drums for a metal band when he was 14 🙏🙏
OH I DID NOT KNOW THAt tyFOR TELLING ME....btw the first chap drops in a few days :)
you were never supposed to notice him.
he was never supposed to care.
what starts as a collision turns into something quieter and more dangerous- a relationship that has to stay hidden to survive. between late nights, stolen moments, and reputations that don’t leave room for mistakes, they learn that wanting each other is easy. dealing with it is not.
BASED OFF OF The DYNAMIC OF REGINA x RODRICK
(non singer au, u are essentially regina personality wise, roman is Rodrick, boyliife is a rock band, high school au)
some secrets keep you safe.
others just make the fallout worse.
okay hi guys, im aware ruin the friendship has ended and now I want to delve my Time into another fic. its going to be short js like rtf, around 6-10 chaps, and a similar style to ruin the friendship. its going to be either hollis or roman as the love interest for most of these, and all of them r stories ive been keeping in my pocket for a bout a month now, unsure wether to upload or not. PLEASE vote for which one you would like written!
Coming of age - very like high school kids with dumb dreams type of trope. it's about the hardships we face during such a pinnacle time of our life - senior year. you, and the rest of boyliife are graduating high school this year, and realize how fleeting your childhood truly is. (roman, Hollis, nate, Jonah, Ryan x you) (its kind of a love trope around u but not in a weird way more of like a silly crush kind of way?) ITS MOSTLY VERY SAPPY BC ITS VERY LIKE yk farewell and shit.
this story will include: high school au fluff, sentimental moments, nostalgia, angst,
song Inspo: linger - the cranberries , beaches - beabadoobee , ribs - Lorde
sort of like lady bird, cmbyn, reply 1988
2. twilight -a spin off of the series twilight, prob will be hollis or roman as love interest, basically ur Bella swan in this scenario, and said love interest is a vampire. its inspired by the themes and plot of twilight, but only the first movie. dont worry haha it won't be like the movie that much. but I love the feeling of twilight, so this will be a very like feel it in your soul kind of story. you are going to be irrevocably in love with the said love interest. MEANT TO be DEEP READ.
this story will contain: twilight inspired, angst, etc.
song Inso: eyes on fire - blue foundation , possibility - Lykke li
its based on twilight movie 1
3. Dirty little secret - very regina George x Rodrick Jeffrey dynamic but in this story, your regina and roman is going to be Rodrick, him and boyliife are part time skaters and are apart of a rock band, you are considered the plastics of this au. you fall in love with a boy who everyone in your circle looks down on, and afraid of others opinions, you have to hide your relationship. how will this affect your life? would everyone look down on you for dating someone who was so opposite of you? GOING TO BE A JUICIER LIGHTER READ.
this story will contain: you are going to be mean and bitchy guys sorry, roman is gonna be like Rodrick coded kinda, very like mean girls vibe
based on diary of a wimpy kid and mean girls
song Inspo: dirty little secret - American rejects, sk8er boy - Avril Lavigne
4. how to loose a guy in ten days - 2hollis/roman haven't decided yet but its gonna be based on the movie and basically ur based on andie and u decide to date said love interest for your article and hes also dating u for other reasons but u guys dont know, this is just mostly based on the movie additionally its be very rom com based and a bit funny. highly suggest watching b4 reading. MEANT TO BE A FUN READ.
this story contains: dramatic confessions, player vs played, miscommunication, surprises
Inspo: the note book and how to loose a guy in ten days
song Inspo: kiss me - sixpence, out of the woods - ts
PLEASE VOTE ON WHICH ONE AND FEEL FREE TO LEAVE ANY COMMENTS!
okay sorry for the long wait everyone! ch 9 is finally out :P
enjoy reading and lmk if u like this !
you’re all walking, but it doesn’t really feel like all of you.
megan and jonah drift ahead without even trying, shoulders brushing, heads leaned together. ryan ends up with them occasionally turning around, saying something you can’t hear over the music playing in from every direction. roman’s close too, laughing about something dumb.
and somehow, you’re stuck in the back.
you, nate, and hollis.
like… a foot apart from each other. max. close enough to feel awkward about where your hands are supposed to go.
and you’re walking beside hollis like this is a totally normal thing…almost . like he didn’t just sing a love song while looking directly at you in front of thousands of people.
you don’t know what to say,,,at all.
your brain keeps replaying the wink, the eye contact. the fact that he said just you earlier, like it slipped out before he could stop it.
he clears his throat.
“so,” he says, trying for casual. you can tell he’s forcing it a little. “what’d you think?”
you blink. “about…?”
he smiles, small, almost relieved you answered at all. “my set.”
“oh.” you nod quickly. “yeah. yeah, it was really good.”
that’s it. that’s all you give him.
what you don’t say is that his stage presence is insane. that he has crazy talent–that watching him felt like being pulled in whether you wanted to or not.
but it’s too soon. too weird. so you keep it safe.
he glances at you, then ahead, then back at you again. “for real?”
“for real,” you say. “you killed it.”
his shoulders relax a bit at that, like he’d been waiting for confirmation. “thanks,” he says, quieter. “means a lot.”
nate’s walking on your other side, pretending he’s not lowkey eaves dropping every second of this. he snorts. “damn, you two sound like you’re on a first date.”
you groan. “oh my god.”
hollis laughs a bit , and the tension eases just a notch.
the rest of the night gets better.
You, nate, and hollis end up walking a little slower than the others without really deciding to, for just enough space to talk without yelling.
nate’s talking about something dumb, something about merch logistics. some guy who tried to sell him a bootleg hoodie for eighty bucks. you’re laughing,, and hollis keeps glancing over like he’s trying to memorize the sound.
there’s a game booth you stop at, something with tossing rings onto bottles, and nate insists he’s good at it, and to be quite frank, he’s not. you heckle him until he finally wins you a cheap stuffed animal that smells like dust.
“this is yours now,” nate says solemnly.
“i’m honored,” you say, hugging it anyway.
hollis snorts. “that thing is chopped.”
“don’t be jealous,” you tell him. “he earned this.”
“barely,” hollis says, but he’s smiling.
later, you’re sitting on the grass with drinks sweating in your hands, music thudding somewhere close. megan comes back long enough to braid a piece of your hair and then disappears again., and nate sprawls out beside you, staring at the sky.
hollis sits close. not touching. just close enough that you notice.
“you good?” he asks, quieter than before.
you nod. “yeah. this is nice.”
he exhales like he’s been holding that in. “yeah. it is.”
there’s a pause.
“i’m glad you came,” he says, finally.
you look at him again, and this time its for real.
“me too,” you say. “i almost didn’t.”
his eyebrows lift. “yeah?”
“yeah,” you admit. “but i’m glad i did.”
that makes him smile.
nate suddenly sits up. “okay, if you two start staring at each other any harder, i’m leaving.”
you laugh. hollis groans. “shut up.”
But he doesnt move his eyes away.
and later, when you’re walking again, shoulders brushing this time, it feels so much better. like whatever weird tension there was earlier burned itself out somewhere between the laughter and the stupid stuffed animal tucked under your arm.
you’re not thinking about your so called tragic love life, expectations, or anything bad.
you’re just there, walking and enjoying yourself.
you end up catching a few more sets after that. Everyones happy, jumping along to the music with smiles on their faces. It was weird—almost weird how quickly you and megan had adapted into their friendgroup.
you and hollis still don’t talk much. not because it’s bad. just… uncharted. every time one of you opens your mouth it feels like you’re about to step on a wire. so you keep it light. comments here and there. shared looks when nate says something weird, and that’s it.
eventually you land at barricade for another artist. close enough that you can feel the music in your body, and the crows is even worse. at first it’s fine.
then someone shoves from behind. hard.
you stumble a little but catch yourself. laugh it off. everyone’s hyped, whatever.
another shove. stronger.
you glance back, annoyed, but it’s just bodies pressed together, no faces, no apologies. the music gets louder. the crowd surges forward like a wave that forgot how to stop.
suddenly there’s nowhere to step.
someone clips your shoulder. another person pushes straight into your back. your foot catches and for a split second your stomach drops because oh— this could actually go bad.fuck.
before you can react, hollis moves.
fast.
one second he’s beside you, the next he’s in front of you, arm out, body angled like a shield. he pulls you in without asking, tight against his chest, his other arm braced against the barricade to keep the pressure off you.
you barely have time to register it before he leans down, head tucked over yours, completely blocking you from the crowd.
“i got you,” he says, low. right by your ear.
your hands instinctively grab onto his shirt, and not in a graceful wayl. his grip tightens like he’s not letting go anytime soon.
people keep shoving. bodies slam into his back. he barely budges.
you’re pressed into him, heart racing, his arm solid around your shoulders, his chin almost touching the top of your head. you can feel his breathing. steady. controlled. like he’s done this before and decided nothing’s getting past him.
after a minute, the crowd settles, pressure eases, and people spread out again.
he doesn’t let go right away.
“you good?” he asks.
you nod, still close. “yeah. thanks.”
he looks down at you then, concern first, relief second. “sorry. i should’ve moved you sooner.”
“don’t apologize,” you say. “that was… clutch.”
that gets a small smile out of him.
he finally steps back, giving you space, but not too much. his hand lingers at your wrist for half a second before dropping.
the music kicks back up, phones are back up in the sky, and nate turns around and squints at the two of you.
“…did i miss something?”
you shake your head. hollis clears his throat.
“nah,” he says. “just crowd stuff.”
but when the next wave hits, smaller this time, he stays right where he is. Close and ready.
and you don’t move away.
later on, it gets worse.
more people keep flooding in like flies. The air feels sticky and impossible to breathe.
your chest starts doing that thing, not full panic, but close enough that it’s annoying. your breaths get shorter, and you keep shifting your weight, trying to find room that doesn’t exist.
you don’t say anything, because you’re used to riding it out.
hollis notices anyway.
he glances over, sees the way your jaw’s tight, the way you keep looking past the crowd instead of at the stage. he leans in, close enough that his mouth is right by your ear.
“you wanna get outta here?”
his voice is low, almost swallowed by the music, but you hear it clear as day.
you nod immediately, no hesitation, no pretending you’re fine.
“yeah.”
“okay,” he says, like it’s simple. because to him, it is.
he reaches for your hand without thinking, no warning. just fingers closing around yours, firm and sure. not pulling, just guiding.
“stay close.”
you do.
he turns his body sideways, one arm out to create space, the other keeping hold of you. people grumble. someone bumps into him, but he doesn’t care. he keeps moving, slow and steady, checking over his shoulder every few steps to make sure you’re still there.
his thumb brushes your knuckles once. ou knew that was intentional.
by the time you break free of the crowd, your lungs feel like they finally remember how to work.
you stop just outside the mass of bodies, hands still linked, and your body isnt shaking. the night air hits your face and you exhale, long and shaky.
“better?” he asks.
you nod, squeezing his hand before you realize you’re doing it. “yeah. way better.”
he doesn’t let go right away.
“good,” he says, softer now. “didn’t wanna lose you in there.”
you look at him. sweat at his temples, hair falling into his eyes, concern still written all over his face.
your stomach flips. It is not anxiety this time, its something else.
eventually, he drops your hand, but he stays close. shoulder brushing yours as you both stand there.
you don’t even notice how far you’ve wandered until the noise thins out almost completely.
It was just you, him, the open road and the scuffling of your shoes on the pavement.
hollis breaks it first, casual, like he’s been holding it in.
“okay, yeah. that was a lot.”
you laugh. “i thought i was gonna get folded in half back there.”
“i saw,” he says. “you disappeared for a second and i was like… nope.”
you glance at him. “thanks for that, by the way.”
he shrugs. “anytime.”
you walk a bit more, arms swinging, not really thinking about it.
“also,” he adds, “sorry if i was acting weird earlier. my friends are… loud.”
“they’re fine,” you say. I think their funny, actually. especially ryan.”
he snorts. “yeah, that tracks.”
that gets you both smiling, and the edge finally drops.
after a minute he goes, “so you’ve done coachella before, right?”
“yeah. a couple years back.”
“was it fun?”
“yeah,” you say. “I remember how nervous i was though–-like i literally could not stop shaking. It was…embarasing.”
he nods. “that’s exactly how today felt.”
you grin. “you looked good up there though.”
“don’t say that,” he laughs. “i almost blacked out during the second song.”
“couldn’t tell.”
he looks a little surprised by that, then smiles.
you end up talking about music without trying to. first only basic questions, like when he started out, when you began writing,vice versa.
it doesn’t feel like a moment, only just a conversation that keeps moving.
at some point he says, “i’m glad you actually came.”
you don’t think about it long. “yeah. me too.”
“so,” he starts, nudging the conversation, “what are you working on right now?”
you shrug, kicking at a pebble. “just some new track. trying to layer my voice without it sounding like garbage.”
he grins. “same. i’ve been stuck on this loop for like… three days. can’t decide if it’s good or trash.”
“let me hear it,” you say. and he does, humming the rhythm on his phone. you tilt your head, trying to catch every nuance.
“you should layer that middle part,” you suggest, “make it pop a little more. and maybe automate the reverb on the beginning, it’ll make the drop feel bigger.”
he actually laughs. “dude, you sound like you live in my brain.”
“hah,” you grin. “youre funny.”
he grins wider. “i feel that though. the layering part always kills me. i’ll spend hours just tweaking a kick drum.”
“same,” you say. “and don’t even get me started on writing portion oh my gosh i suck sometimes at story telling.
he laughs again. “nah, i think youre writing style is fire. imean whats the point in creating art if you can create it only in a few hours, right?”
you smirk. “thanks. yours too. your mixes are clean. i can hear the intent behind every sound.”
you’re mid-sentence, explaining some half-baked idea about lyrcism, when you hear footsteps getting louder. a lot louder.
“oh my god—”
megan’s voice cuts through everything and before you can even turn, she’s already on you, arms around your shoulders like she’s afraid you’re gonna disappear again.
“where were you?” she blurts. “bruh, i thought you got lost or kidnapped or something.”
you laugh, a little startled. “relax. i’m alive.”
she pulls back, scanning your face like she’s checking for injuries. “you just vanished.”
“it was getting stuffy in there,” you say. “we just dipped for a bit.”
hollis nods beside you, easy. “yeah. crowd was insane.”
megan gives him a look. not mean, just very aware. then she looks back at you, smirking like she knows something you don’t.
“mhmm,” she says. “okay.”
the rest of them start filtering in too—jonah first, then nate, ryan, roman, everyone talking at once, overlapping plans and sentences.
“there you are,” jonah says, relieved. “we were about to send out a search party.”
“dramatic,” you say.
“accurate,” megan replies.
someone mentions food, and ryan says he’s starving, nate backs him up immediately.
“can we please eat?” nate says. “i haven’t had anything except a granola bar since noon.”
“Sure.” you reply back.
hollis glances at you. “you good to head back?”
“yeah,” you say. “dinner sounds perfect.”
the group starts moving again, messy and way more relaxed than before. megan slips her arm through yours, still talking a mile a minute, and hollis walks close enough that you keep brushing shoulders.
by the time you hit the parking lot, everyone’s dragging a little. dusty shoes. tired legs. clearly, everyone was a bit exhausted.
jonah sighs like he expected that. “of course you are.”
they pile into ryan’s car without much debate, still arguing about food like it’s life or death. headlights flash, doors slam, gone.
that leaves roman’s car.
which is… smaller.
megan looks at it, then at you, then at hollis. grins. “we can make it work.”
you already know where this is going.
somehow, you end up in the backseat. middle. because of course you do. megan drops in on your left, hollis on your right. roman’s up front, already adjusting mirrors like nothing about this is weird.
the doors close. the space shrinks.
megan immediately starts talking to roman about some random set she wants to catch tomorrow, hands flying, fully animated. they’re deep in it within seconds.
you’re not.
you’re very aware of the fact that hollis is right there.
too close to pretend otherwise.
your shoulders are basically touching. your thighs definitely are. every time the car shifts or roman brakes a little too hard, hollis’s knee bumps yours. not enough to be obvious, just enough to notice, every single time.
you stare straight ahead, brain doing absolutely nothing helpful.
he smells nice, att least.
you risk a glance.
he’s already looking at you.
not intense, not weird. just a small smile, like he’s amused by the whole situation. like he’s trying not to laugh.
