𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙎

Nate and Will

JANUARY, 1995

The basement studio was dense with sound and the lingering smell of takeout and amplifier dust. Warm light cast long shadows over the scattered cables and scuffed gear, the energy in the room thick with focused excitement.

They were running through the setlist for the upcoming gig, every rehearsal lately had been geared toward that. Nate's bass hummed with rhythm, William's precise drumming cut clean and steady, and Iris's guitar stitched its way through the noise like a conversation. Dave's voice, still new in its public confidence, carried clearer now, fuller, unrestrained.

They finished a tight take of "Podunk" before William clapped his sticks together. "Beer run," he announced. "Nate, come with?"

"Yeah, sure," Nate said, setting his bass down and stretching. "Back in a sec."

As they climbed the stairs toward the kitchen, their voices fell into a quieter rhythm of their own.

"So... you've noticed it too, right?" Nate asked casually, nudging William with his elbow.

"Noticed what?"

"Iris and Dave. They're really close."

William chuckled, nudging the fridge open. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"I'm not saying it is," Nate replied. "I'm just saying it's a thing... A thing that can get messy in bands."

William cracked open two beers and handed one to Nate. "They're not kids. I think they know what they're doing. Plus, I really do think they make each other better. You hear Dave sing lately?"

Nate hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. He's different. Like he's starting to believe in himself."

"Exactly," William said, taking a swig. "Whatever it is between them, it's working."

Just then, as they moved to head back downstairs, they paused.

From the basement came the soft, haunting start of "Exhausted." Dave's voice, low and resonant, intertwined with Iris's in a slow-burning harmony. Her tone, breathy and anchored, gave the song a new shade of emotion. It wasn't flashy, but it was raw. Intimate.

The two men stood silently for a moment, beers forgotten in their hands.

"Damn," William said under his breath.

Nate gave him a sidelong glance. "Still think it's nothing?"

William didn't reply, just let the music speak.

When they finally stepped back into the studio, Dave and Iris were seated on the floor, Iris strumming her guitar, finishing the last chorus. Dave's head was tipped back slightly as he sang, and Iris sat close enough that their knees brushed.

The music tapered off, and they looked up.

"That was solid," Nate said, trying not to sound too curious. "Best your voice has ever sounded, man. Confident."

William gave a crooked grin. "Must be all that emotional support Iris is providing."

Dave rolled his eyes, laughing, his face a light shade of red, though he did his best to brush it off. "Probably."

Iris smirked but said nothing, quietly unplugging her guitar and rechecking her tuning.

The four of them began setting up again for another round, starting on "Ozone," which William particularly liked for its punch and pace. "It's got that unhinged thing," he said. "Makes it feel like it could fall apart at any second- in the best way."

"Same with 'Butterflies,'" Iris added. "It's got that controlled chaos vibe I love."

They ran through both songs, energy flowing naturally now, each player slotting into place like a part of something that had been waiting to exist. They cracked jokes between takes; Nate forgetting the bassline halfway through "Ozone," and Dave yelling, "Well, there goes the gig!" to scattered laughter.

As things wound down a bit and they took a breather, Nate leaned back in his chair and turned to Dave and Iris.

"So... what's the Marine Store like? Never been."

Dave nearly dropped his water bottle. "You've never been to the Marine Store?"

"Seriously?" Iris added, eyes wide.

William tossed a pick across the room toward Nate, missing by several feet. "Dude, it's like... Seattle 101. Where were you during the real shows?"

"I don't know, playing basements in Capitol Hill?"

Dave chuckled. "It's small. Like, barely-a-stage small. Feels like you're performing inside someone's garage. But the crowd? Crazy loyal. If they like you, they love you."

"It gets packed fast," Iris added. "We'll have, what, fifty or sixty people shoulder-to-shoulder in that space? It'll be tight, sweaty, and very loud."

Nate looked between them and smiled, a little nervous but mostly excited. "Sounds like a good time."

"First shows should always be in places like that," William said, cracking his knuckles. "No glitz, just people pressed up against the amps and probably too close to the drums."

They laughed and went back to tuning their gear, the atmosphere lighter now. The band, whatever this new thing was becoming, felt real. Something was starting to click, both musically and personally.

And in the subtle glances exchanged, in the lingering way Dave's eyes followed Iris as she reached to adjust a mic stand, in the faint smirk that lingered on her lips when he caught her looking back, there was something else building too. Quiet but undeniable.

Something worth paying attention to.

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A/N

Chapter is a little short, but the next will definitely make up for it.

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