𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙐𝙥.

Not Even For You.

The quad outside the cafeteria buzzed with activity, the students were sprawled on the grass, with laughter and snippets of conversations drifting in the air.
Two months ago, back in high school, this kind of noise would've annoyed Weston, making him retreat to his spot under the bleachers, cigarette in hand. But here, in a new city where no one knew him, it felt different... refreshing, even. He wasn't the same person he'd been back home.

He was on his way to grab lunch when he saw him, the boy from his lecture, hanging up the same "guitarist wanted" posters West had noticed earlier in the week. He hesitated for a moment, then figured this might be his second chance to join the band. He adjusted the strap of his bag, then headed over.

"Hello."

The boy turned, flashing a bright, carefree smile. "Hey." He replied, his brown eyes twinkling, catching West's attention without even trying.

His confidence faltered for half a second, but he rallied. "So... I'm Weston."

"Roy."

West nodded toward the poster. "Still looking for a guitarist, huh?"

"Uh huh." Roy tilted his head, stepping back to admire his work.

"How come you get to be in the band? You're a freshman... and a dude." West remarked, raising an eyebrow.

Roy smirked, his hands slipping into his jacket pockets. "I'm not in the band. I'm with the band."

"Ohhh... I see."

West shifted on his feet, his shoulders drooping slightly as he started to turn away, a hint of disappointment on his face. Before he could take a step, Roy spoke up.

"If you're dying to join, Lia's having a party on Friday. Maybe talk to her there."

"Lia?"

"The scary one. Pink hair. Looks like she's plotting world domination most of the time."

West chuckled despite himself. It was probably the girl who'd called him "Conan Gray"

"Right. Got it. Yeah... not really a party guy, but I'll come."

"Here, give me your number. I'll text you the details."

West reached for Roy's phone, their fingers brushing for just a fraction of a second. It was barely a touch, but it sparked something warm and electric that neither of them could ignore.

West cleared his throat, ignoring the flutter in his chest as he typed in his number. He handed the phone back, their eyes meeting briefly before he glanced away.

"See you Friday." He said, hurrying to leave like he had somewhere to be.

Roy's voice followed him, light and teasing, "Don't bail, Weston. You'll regret it."

West didn't look back, but he smiled to himself all the way down the hall.
-------

West stared out his living room window, watching the soft glow of the streetlights stretch across the sidewalk. The hum of the city seemed distant, like he was experiencing it through someone else.
His phone was pressed against his ear as the sound of Killian's voice echoed through the receiver. He had called him, felt like the right thing to do, but now that the conversation was stretching on, he found himself unsure of what he was even saying anymore. 10 minutes had passed, but it felt like a lifetime, and the words were flowing without any real direction.

Killian: West? Are you still there?

Killian's voice brought him back, pulling him from whatever thoughts had been drifting through his mind.