Again

Chapter 08

The night had a certain energy. The concert hall buzzed with life, a symphony of voices merging with the pulse of music vibrating from speakers outside. Ashe stood by the entrance, perfectly poised in his outfit—an intentional mix of casual and sharp: black shirt layered over a crisp white undershirt, loose-fitting pants that moved with ease, and brown loafers that spoke of an understated elegance. His reflection in the glossy windows of the hall confirmed it—he looked good. And he felt it, too. But beneath the façade, nerves churned, their constant hum unsettling him.

Every passing glance felt like judgment, though most were appreciative. The faint scent of his cologne, a heady mix of spice and wood, lingered in the air around him, further cementing his physical confidence. But this wasn't just a concert. To Ashe, this was a test—a moment with Wayne that could be something more. If tonight went well, maybe Wayne would see him differently. Maybe, just maybe, Ashe could rewrite his past with something new.

A sudden wave of relief washed over him as he saw Wayne pushing through the crowd. His messy hair, slightly disheveled from what was clearly a rushed journey, made him look more boyish than usual. His face was flushed, not from embarrassment but from the exertion of navigating the chaotic streets.

"Sorry, traffic was awful," Wayne apologized, slightly breathless. His usual calm was rattled, and that made Ashe's smile all the more genuine. There was something endearing about seeing Wayne like this. "Were you waiting long?"

Ashe shook his head, lying easily. "No, just got here." He took a breath, calming his racing nerves. Wayne's presence had that effect on him—steadying his internal storm.

But then, something shifted. Behind Wayne, a group followed, their faces unmistakable. Rhea, Arthur, Ben. All high school memories. A familiar tightness gripped Ashe's chest. Not them, he thought, his mind scrambling for some semblance of control.

Wayne, oblivious to the rising tension in Ashe's posture, gave a sheepish grin. "I hope you don't mind—I brought some friends along."

Mind? Ashe swallowed the lump in his throat, his thoughts a tangled mess. I came here for you. But the words never left his lips. "Yeah, sure," he managed, though his voice faltered. "Most of them are from high school, right?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Rhea stepped forward, her gaze sharp as knives. Her presence always brought with it a weight, and tonight was no exception. "Did you forget?" she asked, her tone carrying the kind of disdain that could cut a man down. There was no hiding from it.

Ashe tensed, every muscle in his body preparing for the onslaught. He tried to steady himself, to keep his voice neutral. "It's... it's cool that you're all still close." But the attempt to smooth things over was weak, and Rhea saw right through it.

Her eyes narrowed, the intensity of her stare unrelenting. "Yeah, because we're not bullies."

The word landed like a punch. Ashe's breath hitched for a split second, but before he could respond, Wayne stepped in, his voice calm but firm. "Rhea," he warned, his tone gentle but final. "We talked about this. It's done."

Rhea shot him a look but relented, though the tension between her and Ashe was palpable. "Fine," she muttered, though her voice carried an edge. "If Wayne's okay with you, I guess we are too."

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating even, but Ashe forced a smile. "Thanks. And I'm sorry... for everything. To all of you."

It wasn't enough, but it was all he could offer. He didn't expect forgiveness, but he needed to say it.

The group walked into the concert hall, but Ashe and Arthur split off, both of them making some excuse about grabbing drinks and heading to the restroom. The air inside was cooler, but Ashe couldn't shake the heat rising in his chest. Facing Wayne's friends—no, his old classmates—had thrown him off balance in a way he hadn't anticipated. He hadn't prepared for the memories, for the past to claw its way back so suddenly.

Inside the restroom, Ashe gripped the edge of the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His face, still composed, was a mask he was desperately holding together. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to shake the tension that coiled in his stomach. You're here for Wayne, he reminded himself. Just get through tonight.

But when he stepped back out into the hall, the air felt thicker. A group of men loitered near the entrance, their laughter loud and careless. At first, Ashe paid them no mind. But as he walked past, their attention shifted—hungry eyes locked onto him, and the atmosphere around him changed.

"Hey, handsome," one of them called out, his voice slick with malice as he stepped too close for comfort.

Ashe's heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening. He tried to keep walking, but another man blocked his path, his grip suddenly tight around Ashe's arm. "Where are you going?" The question wasn't friendly—it was a demand.

The laughter from the group turned darker, more dangerous. One of them leaned in closer, the smell of alcohol on his breath. "You look delicious," he sneered, his voice low and lecherous. "Let me eat your ass."

Ashe's skin prickled, cold sweat beading on his forehead. His mind raced, the panic setting in as more hands brushed against him. The men closed in, their voices melding into a cacophony of threats and crude remarks.

He felt trapped, his body frozen with fear. He hadn't felt this powerless in years, not since high school, when—

A voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the chaos. "Fuckers! Get away from my boyfriend."

Ashe's head snapped toward the sound, his heart still pounding. It was Arthur, his voice carrying enough weight to make the group hesitate. Arthur's tall, imposing frame pushed through the crowd, and without a moment's pause, he hurled a can at one of the men, hitting him squarely on the head.

The man stumbled back, dazed, and before he could recover, Arthur had him by the collar, his fist connecting with the man's jaw in a single, fluid motion. The man crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

The rest of the group scattered, too stunned to fight back. Arthur stood over them, his fists still clenched, his breath heavy.

Ashe's legs gave out beneath him, the adrenaline draining from his body all at once. He collapsed to the floor, his breath shaky, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Relief washed over him, but it was quickly followed by something darker — shame. He had needed saving.

Arthur was at his side in an instant, kneeling down and offering his hand. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, but there was a tension in his eyes.

Ashe nodded weakly, though he wasn't sure if he meant it. "Awful," he admitted after a long pause. Then, more quietly, "Is this karma?"

Arthur hesitated, his eyes searching Ashe's face for something. "Maybe," he said, though his tone had softened. He knew Ashe had been terrible to Wayne, but no one deserved this.

"We should report this," Arthur added, his voice steadier now. "Can you stand?"

Ashe took Arthur's hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet. "Thanks," he murmured. He hesitated, then managed a weak smile. "And... 'boyfriend'?"

Arthur shrugged, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "What, you don't like the sound of that?"

A shaky laugh escaped Ashe, a release of the tension still gripping his chest. "You're adding fuel to the fire."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. After reporting the incident to security, they rejoined Wayne and the others, but Ashe's mind was elsewhere. The concert was starting, but all Ashe could think about was the way Arthur had looked at him—not just as someone who needed saving, but as someone... different.

Wayne glanced at them as they slipped back into their seats. "What took you so long?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

"There was a crowd," Ashe lied, exchanging a brief look with Arthur, who simply nodded.

As the first notes of the concert began to fill the air, Ashe leaned back in his seat, his heart still racing from everything that had happened. He had come here tonight for Wayne, but now... he wasn't sure what he was here for anymore.

A/N: Yes, I know it's unexpected and I don't know where this story is headed, but I'll just go with the flow, I guess. Also, this is so vanilla, so I tried to spice things up. Still, I hope you liked it.