you know all those posts from last year about how your choices when talking to ralsei are always "kill yourself i fucking hate you" and "you should be happy actually"?
The cast of BotB season four has touched down in a new state: Ohio! That's right—they're infiltrated G's backyard (and maybe someone else's?) Unfortunately, the rockstar isn't happy about this development considering the people who have decided to show their faces here. Meanwhile certain rumors are tainting the BOTB brand while the home lives of the ROs are starting to creep up on them. Will there even be a tour? Who knows?
As usual, MC remains in the center of it all. Their plans for their future comes into question when they're forced with new faces and possibilities. That is…if they even have a career by the end of this. For some MCs they should probably keep in mind to think with their head and not their…you know!
Hi! It's been a long time coming but I'm excited to share the Chapter 5 alpha demo! Thank you for your patience and enthusiasm :) Please read until the end. Without fail I get questions that are answered in this post almost immediately after publishing it aha
I'm calling it an alpha demo because, and not to get all sad and lame, after the death of my family member I did not feel like adding more to my plate (aka beta testers). Writing took up much of my time already and it just hasn't been the right time to include other people into the process. Of course, that must change, and I will be getting beta testers soon now that the alpha is out. As always, the chapters are subject to change and improve as time goes on.
So with that said if there are errors im all ears! I will try to be as timely as possible.
Lando kept his left hand on the wheel, the other curled loosely around the disposable coffee cup. The warmth had mostly faded, but the scent of cinnamon and espresso still clung to the paper, a lingering reminder of the strange little encounter at Books & Brews.
The sky outside began to fade into the telltale colors of late evening, bright oranges and pinks painting the sky before settling into the beginning blues of the approaching night. The sleek metal of his car glinted with the last embers of light, the jet black sports car speeding down the main roads of the city.
Lando was careful. Always.
Which was why it pissed him off when he realized he had made a mistake.
The Books & Brews coffee cup sat innocently in his hand as he walked into the mansion, steam still curling lazily from the lid. It wasn’t anything special —just coffee of some sort, really— but the cup was different.
He should have tossed it.
It's rubbish anyway, innit.
But he hadn’t, because he had been too focused on everything else.
Lando stepped through the grand double doors of his mansion, the weight of the day rolling off his shoulders as he exhaled, slow and measured. He loosened the cuffs of his sleeves, rolling them up just as he strode into the kitchen—only to pause at the sharp-eyed presence already waiting for him.
Max Fewtrell stood by the counter, arms crossed, a whiskey glass dangling loosely from his fingers. He didn’t say anything at first—just flicked a glance down at the coffee cup in Lando’s hand.
Lando caught it too late.
Shit.
The cup wasn’t from his usual place. It wasn’t the sleek, minimalist design of the café Max always had someone fetch coffee from.
Instead, it was a warm beige, Books & Brews scrawled across its center in an elegant, old-timey font, with a tiny, charming illustration of a steaming mug resting on a stack of books.
It looked completely out of place here—against the modern steel and marble of his kitchen, against the reputation he carried like a second skin.
And Max, perceptive as ever, had noticed.
A different coffee place. A logo he never used. Something new.
Something noticeable.
Lando didn’t pause. Didn’t hesitate. He just kept walking, exuding the kind of effortless indifference that made people second-guess what they’d seen.
It almost worked.
Almost.
But Max wasn’t people. He was observant, sharp—the kind of person who noticed things, which was what made him a good second-in-command and an irritating presence when Lando wanted to keep something to himself.
“New coffee place?” Max asked casually, falling into step beside him.
Lando didn’t look at him. “Something like that.”
Max hummed, glancing at the cup again before furrowing his brows. “Didn’t know you were switching it up.”
“Didn’t know I had to announce it.”
Of course, he knew how to handle real threats. Rivals. Men who came too close. People who asked the wrong questions.
But this? The casual scrutiny of a man who had worked beside him for years? It was the kind of thing that required a different kind of control.
So he adjusted his stance, as if completely at ease, and took a slow sip of the coffee—nonchalant, almost lazy.
Max let out a quiet scoff. “You don’t just—” He hesitated, then exhaled through his nose. His words come out calm, even, patient. “Mate, if you wanted coffee, I would’ve sent for it. You should’ve said somethin’.”
See? That’s the problem.
It was never just coffee with him — Max had an annoying habit of connecting dots and unfortunately also knew Lando since before he could reach the brake pedal of a car, so this was exactly the kind of small, insignificant thing that could start to look off if Lando let it.
So Lando forced a chuckle, easy, effortless. “Didn’t realize I needed permission to pick up a fuckin’ latte, Max.”
“Just sayin’. You’re a creature of habit,” Max pointed out, watching him. “Same coffee, same places, same people. Now suddenly, you’re somewhere new?” He gave a questioning look. “What,” he laughs, “Is the barista hot or something?”
Lando let out an unimpressed breath. “You think I’d go out of my way for a barista?”
Max grinned. “Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing you’ve done.”
Lando rolled his eyes, making a point to take another sip, as if the conversation was already beneath him. “Relax, yeah? Just happened to be nearby. Thought I’d try it. That a fucking crime?”
Max held up his hands in surrender, amusement still tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright. No need to get defensive.”
“I’m not defensive.”
“Sure.”
Lando exhaled through his nose, setting the cup down on the counter with an easy, unbothered motion. He moved to the fridge, pulling out a water bottle like he wasn’t paying attention to the way Max was still staring at the damn thing.
“I’d have brought you coffee if you told me,” Max added after, like this was somehow a failing on his part. “Didn’t know you wanted one.”
“It’s coffee, Max,” Lando said smoothly, cracking the cap off his water bottle. “Not a marriage proposal.”
Max snorted. “Tell that to the way you treat your usual place.”
Lando hummed in response, rolling his eyes, forcing himself back into normalcy. This wasn’t an interrogation. Max wasn’t suspicious. He was just confused because Lando was a creature of habit, and any break in that habit caught attention.
But another thing about Max—he didn’t overthink shit.
So after a beat, he simply shrugged, letting it go. “Whatever,” he muttered, leaning back again. “Long as you’re not having a midlife crisis about coffee.”
Lando smirked. “I’ll let you know if I start journaling about it.”
Max studied him for a long moment. Lando could feel the calculation, the subtle attempt to connect and deduce.
“...Right then,” was all Max said. Then, with a shrug, he set his whiskey glass down and turned toward the fridge, retrieving a bottle of water like the moment had never happened.
But Lando didn’t move. He kept his hand wrapped loosely around the middle of the coffee cup, resisting the impulse to toss it into the sink as if it was tainted evidence.
Because it wasn’t. It certainly didn’t mean anything.
So why the hell was he still standing here, feeling like he had just dodged a bullet? (He’d know. He’s done it on more than one occasion.)
Max twisted the cap off a water bottle, taking a slow sip before raising a brow at him. “Something on your mind, mate?”
Lando finally moved, tossing the cup into the trash with casual ease. “Not at all.”
Then he walked off, back to his office, back to his life, back to business as usual.
a/n: not much in the ways of plot this time, but a bit more characterization - and you get to meet Max Fewtrell!
