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Kaelix was convinced he had it the worst.
Freo and Seible were always whispering together, shoulders brushing, laughing like a shared secret only made them closer. It didn’t help that Freo’s face always softened whenever Seible said something ridiculous. And Seible? That guy had practically imprinted on Freo, always tugging on his sleeve, teasing him in that too-close, too-flirty way.
So Kaelix did what any rational person would do: he pretended it didn’t hurt.
They were dating, probably. Seible and Freo. Fine. Whatever. So what if Kaelix thought Freo’s voice sounded like safety and starlight? So what if he wanted to grab Seible by his dumb little crescent pin and kiss the sass right out of his mouth? It didn’t matter.
Because Kaelix was just the guy in the back. The one they called when they needed backup vocals or a brooding stare.
Meanwhile, Freo was busy being haunted by his own misinterpretation.
Sure, Seible was cute and chaotic and his energy was addictive, but he was always hanging off Zeal. The way he beamed when Zeal gave him attention—stars in his eyes. And Zeal? That smooth bastard, always catching Seible when he stumbled, ruffling his hair, offering a drink like he’d brewed affection into the mix.
Freo, who prided himself on logic and control, had done the math: Seible + Zeal = obviously a thing. Which meant Freo’s crush on Seible was doomed. And the slow-burning fondness that had grown for Zeal—the one he kept buried beneath the surface—was a no-go too.
"They’re happy," Freo muttered to himself over coffee. “I’m not about to be the cliché pining fool in a love triangle that doesn’t even have space for me.”
He didn’t know he was in a square.
Seible, meanwhile, was spiraling in a different direction entirely.
Zeal and Kaelix. *Zeal and Kaelix.*
Have you *seen* them?
Mister Mysterious and Mister Softspoken with their quiet glances and shared silences? The way Zeal would instinctively hand Kaelix a drink without asking, and how Kaelix would melt, just slightly, under the attention?
How was Seible supposed to compete with that? With *them?*
He’d crushed on Zeal first, obviously—who wouldn’t? The fedora, the voice, the smirk, the damn gloves. And Kaelix? At first, Seible just liked bugging him. But then Kaelix started smiling more. Smiling *at him.* Laughing under his breath. Sharing pieces of music that reminded him of Seible.
Seible, of course, had immediately decided that meant Kaelix had a *boyfriend.* Named Zeal.
So naturally, Seible did what he did best—suffer in dramatic silence while distracting himself with glitter and chaos.
Then there was Zeal.
Cool, composed Zeal.
Or so they thought.
Truth was, Zeal had been down bad for longer than he could admit.
He watched Kaelix scribble lyrics with fingers that shook when he was excited. He memorized the way Freo frowned in concentration while tuning audio levels. He tried not to stare at Seible too long whenever the promoter was in full sparkle-mode, running his mouth faster than his brain could keep up.
And what did he get for it?
The belief that Kaelix and Freo were dating. Probably for years. *Probably soulmates.*
He couldn't ask. What if it was true?
He’d lose everything.
So he stayed on the sidelines. The bartender of his own emotional repression.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
(What We Don’t Say)
══════════════════
The group chat had been unusually lively that morning.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
[Seible - 8:17 AM]
Rehearsal today~ don’t be late losers!!!
[attachment: totally innocent.gif of a sparkly idol wink]
[Freo - 8:18 AM]
You know we’re never late. You're the one who makes us wait while you do vocal warmups in falsetto at 120% volume.
[Kaelix - 8:20 AM]
pls warm up softer. the neighbors already think we’re a cult
[Zeal - 8:22 AM]
You are a cult. A cult of chaos. I just serve the drinks.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Seible sent back five hearts. All pink. All for Zeal.
Zeal’s heart did something deeply stupid. He tossed his phone on the bed like it was its fault. Rehearsal that day was a slow-building disaster wrapped in a layer of professional politeness.
Kaelix couldn’t stop watching Freo out of the corner of his eye. Every time Freo leaned toward Seible to adjust his mic or consult a lyric sheet, Kaelix looked away like he’d been caught staring. Which, of course, he had.
"Zeal, a little more reverb here?" Freo asked without looking up, his fingers poised over the audio interface.
"Sure," Zeal replied, already tuning the dial.
He could do this. Be helpful. Be chill. Be completely, utterly unaffected by the way Freo’s hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck when he focused.
Across the room, Seible had made a pillow throne out of unused props and was humming to himself. Loudly. In three octaves.
"Hey, Kae-chan," he called out without looking. "You’re flat."
"I’m literally not singing yet." Kaelix pouted slightly.
"You’re flat emotionally." Seible grinned, still not looking at him.
Kaelix felt the heat bloom in his cheeks, feeling all giddy and giggly. But then he held himself—he was not going to let that grin get to him. Not today. Not when Seible was obviously flirting with Freo every other second. Not when he probably already had Zeal wrapped around his little finger, too… without him!!!
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
And… Seible, on the other hand, was certain Kaelix was ignoring him. Or maybe… maybe protecting Freo. The loyalty of someone already taken. A boyfriend’s friend kind of vibe. Which was great. Fantastic. Seible was totally fine being the joke character who got nothing. Truly. The comedic relief in this little K-drama nightmare of a band dynamic.
He didn’t miss the way Freo’s gaze kept flicking toward him either, but he tried not to think about it.
Still, when Kaelix grabbed the bridge mic and quietly offered it to him—"You like this one, right? Feels better in your hand."—Seible’s brain short-circuited.
He was still thinking about that hand when Freo appeared beside him and adjusted his collar.
“Too low. You’ll pop your mic,” Freo muttered, fingers brushing his neck.
Seible died. Not literally. But emotionally? Buried. Gone. RIP.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
That night, Zeal found himself wiping down the counter in their shared lounge space long after everyone had left. He didn’t have to. But wiping things gave him something to do with his hands, and silence—true silence—was dangerous. It let the thoughts creep in.
Kaelix and Freo were clearly the central pair. It made sense. They were both the serious types, soft-spoken, thoughtful. Maybe they balanced each other. Maybe that was what love was—quiet understanding. And Seible… he’d never looked at Zeal the way he looked at Freo. That full-body sparkle. The kind of grin you wore when someone saw you exactly the way you wanted to be seen.
Zeal didn’t know Seible had laughed a little too brightly when Zeal poured him tea that morning.
So Zeal stayed in the background.
He didn't know Seible had stared a little too long at the back of his neck earlier. Or that Kaelix had lingered at the door after rehearsal, watching Zeal laugh at Freo’s technical ramble, something tense flickering behind his eyes.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Meanwhile, Freo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head like a man awaiting divine judgment.
He had to let it go.
Zeal and Seible. They were natural. Zeal brought Seible tea every morning, for god’s sake. That wasn’t just friendly. That was the language of care. Yet… Zeal had lingered near him at rehearsal today. Kept adjusting things Freo had already fixed. Asked if Freo was feeling okay. Called him "Freo." Just "Freo," instead of Freodore, soft like it meant something.
Freo told himself it was probably pity. Or worse—habit. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore how much he liked the way Zeal said his name. He told himself he should just stay quiet for a moment.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Later that week, they went as a group out for karaoke. A nice, lively karaoke… or so they thought.
It was Seible’s idea. Which meant chaos was inevitable. Kaelix tried to stay in the corner, cheering and singing from behind, but of course he failed miserably since Seible immediately dragged him out of it.
"Duet with me! Come on, Kae-chan!" Seible demanded, grabbing his hand happily.
Kaelix’s brain: Seible’s hand is warm. Why is he smiling at me like that? Am I allowed to be this happy?
Freo watched them from the couch, arms tight around a throw pillow, quietly pouting. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. Just friends having fun. That didn’t explain why he felt like his ribs were being rearranged.
Zeal passed Freo a can of iced tea, fingers brushing, gazing softly.
“Rough day, Freo?” he asked, voice low.
Freo didn’t answer right away. But when he looked up, Zeal was already looking away, like he’d asked a question he didn’t want answered.
Seible ended up sneaking a peek at Kaelix while Freo belted a dramatic ballad. He looked at Kaelix.
“Kae-chan,” he called.
“You ever think we’re all… not saying something?”
Kaelix blinked. “What do you mean, Seible?”
“I dunno.” Seible’s voice was quiet. “Just feels like everyone’s pretending.”
Kaelix didn’t know what to say. But in the silence that followed, he realized Seible’s hand was still in his.
And that he didn’t want to let go.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
The rehearsal room smelled faintly of dust and lavender fabric spray. The couches had been pushed aside to make room for lighting checks and mic testing, but Seible had already claimed the center of the floor, balancing on one leg with his arms raised like a conductor.
“We’re not starting until someone sings the Pokémon theme with me,” he announced.
“No one agreed to this,” Freo said flatly, eyes on the mixer.
“I did.” Zeal, leaning on the back of a chair, smirked.
Seible lit up. “See? Gin-chan knows fun.”
Kaelix, crouched near the cables, said nothing. He was watching—quietly, always. But when Zeal casually tossed Seible a mic and their fingers brushed, Kaelix’s jaw tightened for half a second. Not enough to notice.
But Seible noticed.
Freo wasn’t looking. But he did hear the way Seible’s voice changed when talking to Zeal. Too playful. Too familiar. It sank in his chest like cold coffee.
Seible turned to Kaelix. “You sing too, Kae-chan. Come on. You’d make a great Misty.”
Kaelix stood. “If I’m Misty, you’re definitely Psyduck.”
That earned a snort from Zeal, and a betrayed gasp from Seible.
“I’m majestic,” Seible said. “Like a Gardevoir.”
“No,” Freo muttered under his breath.
“What?” Seible looked over.
Freo shrugged. “You’re more like… Lopunny. Pretending to be sweet so people underestimate how annoying you are.”
There was a pause. Seible blinked at him, then smiled, sharp.
“Okay. And you’re a Chandelure. Dead-eyed and setting things on fire by accident.”
Kaelix sat back down like he wanted to sink into the floor. What the hell is even happening? While Zeal was watching all three of them. He didn’t laugh this time, just looked on blankly, slight confusion in his expression.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
After rehearsal, the four found themselves loitering in the stairwell instead of leaving.
“Dinner?” Seible asked, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “I vote ramen.”
“You always vote ramen,” Freo said.
“And I always win.”
Zeal shook his head. “I’ve got something at home.”
Seible gave him a look. “You say that every time. Is it real food or—let me guess—liquid despair in a mug?”
“I make great soup,” Zeal said proudly. “It counts. Besides, can't eat gluten, remember?”
Kaelix pulled his hoodie tighter. “I’ll pass. Too many people out. I need inner peace!” he whined softly.
And so Seible turned to Freo, with a hopeful expression. “Furi-chan, please?”
Freo hesitated. His eyes flicked to Zeal for the briefest moment. “Can’t. I’ve got a mix to finish.”
“Oh.” Seible stepped back like he’d leaned too close to a candle. “Yeah, no. Totally. I get it.” His tone sounded slightly bitter.
Kaelix glanced at Zeal. “You sure you’re good heading out alone?”
Zeal nodded, then caught himself. “Unless you want to come with. Not like I’ll finish the soup.”
Freo’s head snapped up—subtle but sharp. Did he just hear that right?
Kaelix hesitated. “I mean… if you’re sure.”
“I’m always sure,” Zeal said softly. And just like that, Kaelix and Zeal left together. Seible stared after them blankly.
Freo coughed. “You coming or not?”
“Hmm?” Seible blinked, surprised by the sudden invitation. “What?”
“Ramen. Or whatever it is you actually want.”
Seible opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“…Right. Let’s go.” He grinned.
The ramen shop was warm and too loud. Freo stirred his broth without eating, watching Seible chase a dumpling around his bowl. Seible didn’t speak—not in his usual way. Just occasional glances and half-smiles that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You’re quiet,” Freo said eventually.
“You’re always quiet,” Seible replied with a hum, dodging.
“I asked first.”
Seible leaned his chin on his palm. “I just thought… never mind.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You keep saying that.”
“And you keep not noticing.” Seible’s voice wasn’t sharp, but it landed like it was.
Freo sat back, unsatisfied with the current mood. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Seible didn’t answer. Instead, he tapped the edge of his bowl, lips pressed in a tight line. He avoided Freo’s eyes—like he was choosing his next words too carefully.
“You and Kaelix. Are you…?”
Freo blinked. “What?”
“Together?”
A silence stretched like elastic—tension tight and thin.
The spoon slipped from Freo’s hand as he stared at Seible, dumbfounded. “Where did that come from…”
“Sorry,” Seible said quickly. “I just—he always looks at you like—” He waved vaguely, then just laughed. “Whatever. Forget it.”
Freo stared at him with a serious expression. “Seible, what do you mean by me and Kaelix?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Seible muttered.
“No.” Freo exhaled. “No, it’s not. What is obvious? I don’t understand you.”
Seible laughed bitterly. “That’s insane. Surely both of them have a thing for you, Furi-chan.”
Freo’s brain stalled.
“Seible.”
“Okay. Sure.”
“Seible—”
“I’m just saying!” He pushed his bowl away. “Everyone looks at someone else like they’re about to say something, and no one does. It’s exhausting.”
Freo leaned forward, his expression slightly yearning. “Who do you look at?”
Seible hesitated. His fingers curled under the table, shoulders rising just slightly.
“Don’t,” he said quietly. “Don’t ask me that, Furi-chan…”
Freo didn’t push.
“…Fine. Didn’t have to,” Freo muttered, and their dinner became silent.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Meanwhile, Zeal stirred his soup while Kaelix scrolled on his phone, sitting cross-legged on Zeal’s floor like it was familiar territory.
“You cook a lot, Jii-san?” Kaelix asked, eyes flicking up briefly.
Zeal shrugged. “More than I admit, why.”
Kaelix glanced up. “You always act like you’re too cool to do domestic stuff. But also, understandable. One day I will cook for you something gluten free, so you can enjoy how it feels to eat spaghetti,” Kaelix rambled excitedly as Zeal chuckled and looked at him with a soft, amused gaze.
“Image management,” Zeal hummed, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.
Kaelix smiled faintly. “You don’t need to impress me.”
Zeal stilled, caught off guard for a moment.
“I’m not,” he said after a pause. “You’re silly today, Kaelix.” Zeal smiled warmly.
“You are,” Kaelix teased back.
Zeal handed him a bowl, ignoring his own words. “You think you know everything, Kaelix.”
“I think,” Kaelix said softly, “you care more than you say.”
Zeal didn’t respond.
The silence settled between them—quiet, but a little too soft.
Kaelix watched the steam rise from his bowl, then glanced at Zeal again. “You and Freo. Is it serious?”
Zeal blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“I mean, it looks like—”
“No,” Zeal said quickly. “God, no. Kaelix, what are you thinking?”
Kaelix gave a tight nod. “Right. Nothing. I’m just bluffing.” Zeal looked at Kaelix for a moment and sighed softly. Kaelix didn’t look convinced.
“I mean, unless you—”
Kaelix snorted. “Also no.”
“…Oh.”
A beat passed.
“Why is everything suddenly such a chaotic mess?” Kaelix asked quietly.
Zeal stirred his soup again but spoke softly, almost to himself. “Because we’re all cowards.”
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Just Say It
══════════════════
A few days later…
Seible wasn’t exactly mad.
He just happened to be walking louder than usual. And maybe shutting the dressing room door with a bit too much flourish. Okay, maybe he was actually frustrated—his fists clenched briefly at his sides.
Zeal didn’t look up from where he sat on the armrest of the studio couch, scrolling through notes on his phone.
“Someone lose a gacha pull or did you misplace your sense of chill again?”
Seible dropped his bag on the floor with a loud thud.
“Don’t talk to me about chill when you’re out here playing domestic soup dates with Kaelix.” Seible huffed, sounding like a joke but somehow Zeal felt it was more than that.
That got Zeal’s attention.
He looked up, slow, his eyes lingering on Seible for a moment longer than usual. “You spying on us now?” Zeal tried to joke, but it seemed like Seible got it slightly wrong.
“Hard not to when you two walked off together like you were in a romance drama.”
Zeal arched an eyebrow, somehow not believing what he just heard but maintaining his smirk.
“Are you jealous?”
Seible scoffed, though his breath hitched for a moment. “Of Kae-chan? Please.” He said proudly.
Zeal tilted his head, a lazy smile creeping in.
“So it’s me you’re jealous of?”
That stopped Seible.
For a second.
Then he gave a short laugh, sharp as glass, but his eyes flickered away.
“You wish.”
Zeal stood, stretching like he hadn’t just casually lobbed a grenade into the room.
“Alright,” he said. “Then why are you in here, pacing like a wind-up toy with a vendetta?” Seible’s foot tapped rapidly against the floor.
Seible crossed his arms. “You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Float around like nothing affects you. Like everyone’s just… background noise unless they’re handing you a drink or a compliment.”
Zeal’s expression didn’t change. But his voice went quieter, softer somehow.
“And you care because?”
Seible faltered, swallowing hard. “I don’t.”
A moment passed.
Then another.
“I just think,” Seible added, voice quieter now, “if you’re going to pretend you’re not interested in anyone, maybe don’t treat Kae-chan like a your househusband.”
Zeal blinked, when even he did.
“That’s rich, coming from the guy who clings to Freo like you’re auditioning for a romcom.”
“I do not cling.” Seible dismissed quickly, but his hands twitched at his sides.
“Every time I turn around, your hand’s on his arm, or his back, or his—”
“Oh, I’m sorry, is physical affection banned now? Guess I missed the memo from the ‘Emotionally Repressed Club President.’” Seible somehow got defensive and at the same time conflicted on why Zeal was talking like that to him. Look at him, look at Seible, Zeal Ginjoka!
Zeal stepped closer, the air thickening between them.
“So what is this then? You storm in here to throw a fit because you don’t know how to deal with your feelings, and you think I don’t get to have any?”
“You don’t act like you do.”
“Because I don’t perform mine for applause,” Zeal snapped.
The silence that followed felt like a held breath, thick and heavy.
Seible looked away first, jaw tight.
“Forget it.”
Zeal didn’t move.
“You’re not mad about Kaelix.”
“I am when you make him look at you like that.”
Zeal’s voice dropped, lower, almost vulnerable.
“Like what?”
“Like he wants you.”
Zeal blinked.
“He doesn’t.” Seible thought that’s bullshit. A lie! His chest tightened with the refusal.
“And Furi-chan?” Seible asked before he could stop himself. “What’s that about?! You hide something yet pretend to see nothing!”
Zeal exhaled, tired suddenly, the weight of it all pressing down on his shoulders.
“You think I know?”
“You sure act like it.”
“I act like I’m trying not to ruin everything,” Zeal muttered.
“Maybe you should try it sometime.”
Seible’s throat tightened. He hated that. Hated that Zeal always said things so casually but hit so deep.
“…You ever think maybe it’s already ruined?” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper.
Zeal looked at him for a long time. The kind of look that wasn’t for show—his eyes searching, honest.
Then, quietly:
“Only when you walk in.”
That hurt, that somehow cut deep—especially from someone you like. Seible didn’t show it though, forcing his jaw to unclench.
He turned to leave.
“Good talk, Ginjoka.” Didn’t bother to call Zeal the usual nickname he had for him.
But Zeal’s voice caught him at the door.
“Hey.”
Seible paused, breath caught mid-step.
“…You’re wrong,” Zeal said, slightly gloomy.
“About what?”
Zeal’s eyes didn’t waver, steady and true.
“About who I want.”
Seible opened his mouth. Then shut it, turning away from him while Zeal let out an exasperated chuckle of disbelief.
And left anyway. He didn’t want to believe even a slightest hope.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Words Left Unsaid
══════════════════
Somehow, the situation between Freo and Kaelix was slightly… confusing.
It started with a broken mic cable and the only two left in the studio being the ones least equipped to handle this silence. And since Zeal and Seible were somehow gone, it was just Kaelix and Freo. Freo was restless, his mind turning over the fact that Seible and Zeal had left together without telling him or Kaelix. It felt like a quiet exclusion, sharp and unexpected. How mature.
Freo crouched beside the interface, untangling wires with the precision of a man who’d rather wrestle a nest of snakes than make small talk. His fingers trembled slightly as he worked—miserable in a way that only grew when he thought about how talkative, friendly, and sweet Kaelix was. That man was all sugar and warmth, and yet here they were, locked in silence.
Kaelix stood a few feet away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, staring at the booth glass like it might hold the answers he couldn’t find anywhere else. Like it might tell him why being alone with Freo made his chest pinch tight, as if it could snap any moment. This was too much for him. He wanted to scream. Instead, he swallowed the feeling.
“Need help?” he asked eventually, voice a little too casual.
“No,” Freo said, then caught himself, the sudden hesitation making Kaelix startled.
“Sorry. That sounded… I meant, I’ve almost got it.”
Kaelix nodded eagerly with a somehow force smile. “Cool.”
Silence settled between them.
The kind of silence that wasn’t comfortable. It was weighted, pressurized, like the air itself was holding its breath. One wrong word might shatter everything. Fuck it, this silence was painfully awkward—like a bad first date stretching too long.
Kaelix glanced down, voice barely above a whisper. “Zeal texted me earlier.”
Freo froze mid-twist of the cable, the sudden news striking him like a cold splash.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Said Seible stormed out of the dressing room. Loud footsteps and everything.”
Freo let out a short, sharp exhale. “He’s expressive.”
A couple fight, that’s what Freo thought.
Kaelix shifted his weight, breaking the quiet. “You think it was Zeal’s fault?”
Freo’s hands slowed, his movements faltering. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Kaelix said, voice uncertain. “They’re close.” So are you, Freo thought bitterly, about Kaelix and Zeal. Why even ask?
Freo looked up just for a second, eyes meeting Kaelix’s. “I thought you and Zeal were close.”
Kaelix blinked, surprised. “Me?”
“You two talk a lot,” Freo said, voice low and almost neutral. “Same music tastes. He always gives you the last gluten-free Oreos.”
Kaelix snorted softly, the tension easing a bit. “That’s just because I get cranky when I’m hungry, just like how you feed me those extra takeout meals. And even Seible.”
Freo smiled briefly, a small light in the gloom. “Fair.”
A pause.
Then Kaelix dared to ask: “You and Seible seem close, too.” Huh?
The way Freo’s fingers twitched on the XLR cable said more than words ever could. “We work well together.”
Not as close as you and Seible, Kaelix, Freo’s mind spun. Not even like how Zeal looked at them. Freo knew he was just… there. Nothing more.
Kaelix nodded slowly, searching for something in Freo’s face. “That’s it?”
Freo straightened, brushing invisible dust from his jacket, but his eyes flickered away. “Shouldn’t it be?”
Kaelix didn’t answer.
Because what was he supposed to say?
“No, actually. I was hoping it wasn’t. I was hoping it was just a misread. I was hoping maybe you looked at him like that because you’re too scared to look at me the same way.” That’s what Freo thought, but dared not say aloud.
Instead, he said, “You ever think it’s weird?”
Freo’s brows furrowed, confusion and something heavier flickering behind his eyes. “What is?”
“All of us. How close we are. How none of us are dating. Or… claiming anything.”
Freo’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “I try not to think about it.”
Because three of them are dating, no? Or maybe just Kaelix and Zeal, actually.
Kaelix looked over, vulnerability flickering through his guarded expression. “Why?”
“Because if I think about it too much, I’ll start wanting things I can’t have.”
And I can’t anyway.
That stopped Kaelix like a punch to the ribs, the truth hanging heavy in the air.
The mic cable was untangled now. Nothing left to do but face the silence between them — thick and almost suffocating.
“Freo,” Kaelix said softly, “if you—”
The door creaked open.
Both of them turned sharply.
Zeal’s head poked in. “Hey, studio time’s up in ten. You two good?”
Kaelix stepped back automatically, the weight of the moment making him stiff. Freo glanced down at the cable like it had betrayed him.
“Yeah,” Freo said first, voice steady but distant. “We’re fine.”
Zeal squinted, unconvinced. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Kaelix echoed, his voice hollow. “We’re fine.”
Zeal didn’t look convinced but left anyway.
Kaelix ran a hand through his hair and offered a strained smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Guess that’s our cue.”
Freo nodded without looking at him.
And just like that, whatever could’ve been said… wasn’t.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Things That Shouldn’t Feel Good
══════════════════
That evening…
Seible hadn’t planned to run into Freo that evening. He’d planned to pick up a matcha latte, maybe edit a thumbnail, maybe tweet something unhinged and vaguely flirtatious to the fans just to distract himself from the way his chest had been aching lately. Easy to say—anything to distance himself from the group.
But fate—or whatever dumb plot device was writing his life—had other plans.
“...Oh,” Freo said, stepping out of the elevator.
Seible blinked from where he stood in front of the vending machine, halfway through choosing between iced coffee and canned yuzu soda. He swiveled, posture immediately guarded behind a trademark smile.
“Look who’s vertical and broody before noon.”
Freo didn’t rise to the tease. He just walked forward quietly, his presence heavy—like the hallway lights had dimmed to accommodate it.
Seible’s grin faltered. “You okay?”
“I could ask you the same,” Freo said, tone too even.
“Touché.” Seible tried to laugh, but it caught on something in his throat.
The elevator doors shut behind Freo, leaving them alone. The hallway was too quiet. The kind of quiet that made Seible twitchy.
“You always look like that after talking to Kaelix?” Seible asked, turning back to the vending machine to hide his face.
“Like what?”
“Like your soul died a little.”
Freo paused. “...You were watching?”
“No.”
Yes.
“I just have… eyes. That work. Occasionally.”
Freo crossed his arms, raising his brows, looking at Seible with a knowing, suspicious look. “We were just working.”
Seible turned, raising a brow. “That tense over mic cables?”
Freo stared at him. “You’re not subtle.”
“Neither are you.”
Freo didn’t respond right away. His silence wasn’t cold—it never was—but it prickled. It made Seible want to fidget, say something too loud, escape before he said too much.
“Do you want to say something, Seible?” Freo asked at last.
Seible scoffed, pushing the vending button harder than necessary. “Nah. I mean—what would I say? ‘Hey, by the way, it’s kinda hard watching you moon over Zeal while I pretend I’m not in love with you’? Bit much for a Tuesday.”
The silence this time was seismic.
Freo’s voice came out soft. “Zeal?”
Seible laughed, short and bitter. “Don’t do that. Don’t act surprised.”
“I’m not surprised,” Freo said slowly. “Just… confused. I did tell you already but—”
“Come on, Freo. You two are practically synced like a rhythm game chart. You bring him coffee, he makes those eyes at you, you lean against his shoulder like it’s a goddamn drama scene—”
“That’s you and Zeal,” Freo interrupted, suddenly sharp. “That’s what I see.”
Seible stopped.
“What now?”
“You. And him. Always shoulder-to-shoulder. He laughs more when you’re around. You shine more when he’s looking.”
“I shine all the time,” Seible snapped, but his voice cracked halfway through.
He hated that. The sound of something spilling out before he could slam the lid on it.
Freo stepped closer. Not looming, not threatening—just present.
He exhaled hard through his nose, slightly frustrated. At this point, he wasn’t even sure who was with who. “Why are we like this?”
“I don’t know.” Seible finally looked at him. “You tell me.”
And this time, when Freo didn’t speak, it wasn’t because he didn’t have anything to say.
It was because saying it meant risking something real.
“I care about you,” Freo said eventually, voice low. “Probably more than I should.”
“Then care about me louder,” Seible whispered. “Because I can’t read you when you’re hiding behind EQ levels and poker faces.”
Freo reached out slowly—just enough to brush a hand against Seible’s wrist.
It wasn’t a declaration. It wasn’t a kiss. It was something in between.
“I’m trying,” he said.
Seible looked down at the contact. His heart stuttered, hope clawing up too fast.
He pulled his hand back—just a fraction, just enough to keep himself from shaking.
“Try harder.”
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Ice and Fire
══════════════════
Zeal had always been good at reading people.
It came with the job—bartender, performer, keeper of secrets. People spilled more over a drink than they did in any group therapy, and Zeal had learned how to listen without reacting. How to give a smile when it mattered. How to withhold just enough to keep others from asking about him.
But Kaelix was unreadable.
Which was ironic, considering how hard Zeal was trying not to read him.
“You’re spacing again,” Kaelix said, eyes not quite meeting his. “You okay?”
“Huh?” Zeal blinked. “Yeah. Just tired.”
A lie.
He was staring at Kaelix’s hands again. The way they moved while scribbling on his tablet—sharp, elegant, a little anxious.
Why the hell are you like this, Zeal thought.
Kaelix was too gentle with him. Too thoughtful. Always bringing a backup drink “just in case,” always nodding along when Zeal talked music, always looking at him like—
No. That wasn’t real. Not when Kaelix had Freo.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to handle the harmony layering?” Kaelix asked, halfway between offering and apologizing. “Freo said I could take it, if you’re busy.”
Freo said. Of course. Kaelix always defaulted to Freo.
“Nah,” Zeal said, forcing a smirk. “I got it. Wouldn’t want to mess with your perfect duet.”
Kaelix froze. “What duet?”
“You know,” Zeal waved vaguely. “You and Freo. You’ve got good chemistry.”
“Chemistry.” Kaelix echoed the word like it stung. “We’re just… friends. Colleagues. I mean, all of us are bandmates, no?”
“Right.” Zeal tried not to sound bitter. Failed. “Must be nice.”
“…What’s that supposed to mean?” Kaelix’s voice already wavered.
Zeal didn’t answer.
Kaelix studied him, guarded now. “Do you think I’m stringing him along or something?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you think it.”
“I think you’re lucky,” Zeal snapped, then immediately regretted it. “I mean—look, forget it. It’s none of my business.”
Kaelix stepped back like he’d been slapped. His voice dropped. “Do you even know me?”
The silence that followed was jagged. Zeal looked at Kaelix, who looked like he would burst out crying any time.
Zeal rubbed his temple, frustrated. “I do know you. That’s the problem, my darling bouncer.”
Kaelix's expression cracked just a little. “Then why are you acting like I’m the villain?”
“Because I like you, Kaelix!” Zeal said, louder than he meant to. “And I thought I could handle just being friends, but watching you with him—”
“We’re not together,” Kaelix said sharply. “We’ve never been. Zeal, none of us are dating.”
Zeal stopped.
“…What?”
Kaelix’s jaw was tight. “I thought you were with Freo. Or Seible. Honestly, I didn’t even know who to be jealous of anymore. Everyone is acting so, so stupid. It’s frustrating!”
“You were jealous?” Zeal whispered.
Kaelix finally looked at him, raw and furious and real. “Of everyone. Of you. Of the way you look at Seible like he’s the only one in the room. Of how you always find a reason to touch Freo’s shoulder when you talk to him. Of how I’m just there, always five steps behind. I’m so jealous because I want everyone. I’m greedy.”
Zeal felt like the air had been punched out of him.
“You thought I…” He laughed, breathless. “Kaelix, I thought you and Freo were endgame and maybe Seible too.”
Kaelix made a frustrated sound and turned away. “God, how are we all so bad at this? Whyyyyyyy!!!”
Then, his voice softened. “Zeal. Who do you like?”
It was a simple question. But the weight of it was everything. Zeal let out a slow breath, then whispered, “You. Freo. Seible.” Kaelix turned back slowly.
“I wanted all of you,” Zeal admitted. “I just didn’t think I was allowed.”
Kaelix didn’t speak for a long moment. Then—quiet, cracked with disbelief—he said:
“…Me too. Zeal… I can’t with this frustrating awkwardness. Do something.”
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Shadows and Glances
══════════════════
Seible leaned against the doorframe of the small studio room, arms crossed, watching Freo meticulously adjust the soundboard. The hum of the equipment filled the silence between them, but something heavier lingered.
“So,” Seible started, voice casual, “you still mad at me?”
Freo didn’t look up. “I’m not mad. Just confused. And I stand by my answer.”
Seible’s smirk was sharp, almost defensive. “Yeah? Well, you’re always hanging around Kae-chan. Seems like you’ve picked your favorites.”
Freo finally glanced over, eyes narrowed. “That’s not the point.”
Seible shrugged. “Isn’t it? We’re all just dancing around something, huh? Like we’re afraid to ask the obvious questions.”
Freo’s jaw tightened. “Maybe because the obvious questions don’t have simple answers.”
“Or because the answers might hurt too much,” Seible shot back, stepping forward. “Maybe that’s why we all pretend nothing’s wrong.”
Freo’s breath caught. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then tell me,” Seible said, softer now. “What’s wrong? What’s really going on with you? I thought you finally got it, Furi-chan.”
Freo hesitated, then looked away. “It’s nothing.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said last time,” Seible muttered. “You can’t hide behind your logic forever, Furi-chan.”
There was a long pause. Then, unexpectedly, Freo exhaled sharply. “Maybe I’m scared.”
Seible stayed quiet for a moment. “Scared?”
“Yeah,” Freo admitted. “Scared of wanting something I shouldn’t. Scared of ruining what little peace I have.”
Seible’s expression softened; he was no longer teasing. “Wanting someone shouldn’t be a crime.”
Freo’s gaze met his. “Tell that to my brain.”
Seible smiled faintly. “Maybe we’re all just waiting for someone else to make the first move.”
Freo’s lips twitched—almost a smile. “Or waiting for the whole mess to fall apart.”
Seible nodded slowly. “Maybe it’s time to stop waiting.” As he left Freo alone.
And Freo thought about it for a long moment.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
The sky outside was getting dark, and Freo hadn’t meant to stay in the studio this late, but every time he packed up his equipment, he found another tiny thing to fix. Another filter to tweak. Another waveform to trim. Every little task was an excuse to stay.
He could hear Seible humming down the hall again, a faint echo like a ghost.
Freo sighed and adjusted the mic levels for the fifth time.
The door creaked open.
“Furi-chan,” Seible called softly. “Didn’t know you were still in here.”
“I could say the same for you.” Freo didn’t look up. His mind, heart, and soul were a mess at this point.
Seible walked in anyway. The sound of his boots against the tile felt louder than usual. “Well, as you can see, I simply didn’t wanna go home. Too quiet. I don’t like it.”
Freo didn’t answer.
Seible leaned against the console, arms crossed, studying him. “I just noticed something, Furi-chan. I didn’t even realize it earlier. You know you always get this look when you’re mixing?”
“What look?”
“The one where you’re thinking about anything but the music.”
Freo’s jaw clenched. “Maybe I just care about doing it right.”
Seible arched a brow. “So... overediting a chorus for four hours is caring?”
“I’m not—” Freo stopped, realizing he was getting defensive. He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not just the chorus.”
Seible didn’t smile. “No. I guess not.”
The room felt colder suddenly. Or maybe it was just the fact that Freo wasn’t sure what this was. This space between them. It wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t playful. It felt… real.
“Did I do something wrong? Is it because I rush you, Furi-chan?” Seible suddenly asked, voices quiet.
That broke him. “No! No, it’s not you.”
“Then what is it?”
Freo hesitated. Then, quietly, “It’s me. I keep misreading things. All of you.”
A long pause.
“You mean… Gin-chan? Or Kae-chan?”
Freo gave a hollow laugh. “Zeal. You. Kaelix. Who cares. I keep thinking I’m watching something unfold and realizing I’m not even in the scene.”
Seible’s expression shifted slightly, unreadable. “You think you’re not in the scene?”
Freo glanced at him, eyes sharp. “You’re always with him, Seible. The jokes, the looks. You light up around Zeal. I figured I was the... extra. The guy in the back editing vocals while the rest of you flirt. You guys look perfect.”
Seible frowned. “You thought I was into Gin-chan only?”
Freo faltered. “-and Kaelix. Aren’t you—wait, what do you mean only?” But he received no response.
“Is that what you think of me? I thought we already talked about this before, Furi-chan.” Seible’s voice was soft, but there was a tremor beneath it. “Do you really think I’m just throwing myself at people for attention?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t say it like that.” Freo shifted slightly.
“Then say what you mean.” Seible’s eyes were wide now, searching. “Tell me.”
Freo’s hands were fists on his knees.
“I liked you,” he said finally, slightly akward. “Still do. But I thought you liked Zeal. And I didn’t want to get in the way of that.”
Seible was silent.
Freo kept going, the words cracking as they left his mouth. “And maybe I liked Zeal too. Maybe I like Kaelix sometimes. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to just be okay with it. But you—you're the one I kept watching.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then Seible moved.
He walked across the studio, slow and deliberate, and knelt down beside Freo’s chair.
“Furi-chan.”
Freo looked at him, somehow reluctant, yet his expression didn’t change much.
Seible didn’t smile this time. “I thought you and Gin-chan were a thing.”
“This again? Didn’t I tell you—”
“You two are always talking in the corner. Sharing those quiet looks. You don’t even realize it, do you?”
Freo stared at him. Well—
“And Kae-chan—he thought we were dating.”
Freo blinked. “He—wait, what?”
“Yeah,” Seible said, laughing now, but it sounded a little breathless. “He saw us hanging around all the time. Said I looked at you like you hung the moon. But somehow I think this messed-up misunderstanding is going to fall apart like you wish.”
Freo flushed.
“And I thought Gin-chan and Kae-chan were together.” Seible leaned in just slightly, voice lower. “So I pulled back. I thought you were taken.”
Freo could barely breathe. “So... none of us are actually together?”
“Apparently not,” Seible whispered. “Which is kinda tragic, really. We fucked up big.”
Freo’s mouth was dry. “Yeah. Tragic.”
Another silence.
This one... charged.
Then Seible stood up, too fast, like he’d just remembered gravity existed.
“I should go,” he said quickly. “Before I say something stupider and add more misunderstanding. Besides, I did fight with Gin-chan before...”
Freo caught his wrist. Not hard. Just enough.
“Seible.”
The promoter paused, still facing the door.
“I liked it. When you said I looked like I was hanging the moon. I thought I didn’t show what I feel.”
Seible turned around slowly, his eyes wide and vulnerable in a way Freo had never seen before.
“I wasn’t kidding,” he said.
The moment held.
Then Seible pulled his wrist gently from Freo’s grasp. “I’m glad.”
And he was gone.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Pressure Points
══════════════════
He could taste it in the air.
The silences between them had changed. What used to be comfortable—lazy mornings in the practice room, someone humming under their breath, Freo quietly tuning a mic while Seible chattered at Kaelix about cereal rankings—had become tense. Heavy. Like everyone was waiting for something to happen and too scared to be the one to do it.
And maybe that was Zeal’s fault.
Maybe if he’d just said something, any of the hundred times he’d caught Freo watching Seible with that half-hidden tenderness. Or the way Kaelix stopped mid-sentence every time Seible laughed too close to him. Or how Freo barely looked at Kaelix anymore, as if afraid of giving something away.
Now, even Seible—usually the chaotic glue holding everything together—had gone quiet. His jokes weren’t landing. His sparkle was off.
And Zeal?
Zeal was tired of pretending he wasn’t watching it all fall apart.
He stayed behind after rehearsal, alone in the dim studio. Lights off, monitors blinking quietly.
He let his head fall back against the couch and exhaled.
What the hell were they even doing anymore?
Their last group recording session had been a disaster—off-key harmonies, stepped-on lines, no chemistry. Everyone was distracted. Everyone was acting.
And none of them were talking about it. Even if they somehow get what happen still no one dares to make the fisrt move.
He’d caught Seible blinking too fast after Freo brushed past him without a word, end up saying the most out of pocket thing in the session. Kaelix barely said anything the whole session, just nodded and went through the motions, smiling yet looking like a wet puppy. Freo looked like he was one breath away from walking out or maybe prefer to parry every feeling and thought inside his pretty head.
Zeal didn’t know where he stood anymore. He wasn’t sure he ever knew.
He liked all of them. Too much. In different ways that all hurt the same.
But the worst part?
They’d all turned inwards. Away from each other. And Zeal knew—he knew—if no one said anything soon, they were going to shatter.
He sat up slowly and pulled out his phone.
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
[Group Chat]
[Zeal]: We need to talk. In person.
[Zeal]: Tomorrow. All of us. Don’t ghost me.
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
Kaelix stared at the message like it was a bomb.
And maybe it was.
Everything had gone wrong. Somehow, in trying not to interfere, he’d only added to the silence. He’d let himself believe Freo was taken. That Seible would never look at him that way. That Zeal—
Zeal.
That one hurt the most.
Kaelix didn’t even know how to describe what he felt about Zeal. It wasn’t just attraction. It was the safety. The attention. The way Zeal noticed when Kaelix was overstimulated and quietly slipped him his favorite drink. The way he always stood between him and loud crowds. How he’d glance over mid-conversation and mouth, You okay?
But Kaelix hadn’t asked questions. Hadn’t fought for anything.
He’d just assumed.
Now Freo wouldn’t meet his eyes. Seible was tense and standoffish. And Zeal—
Zeal looked… tired.
Kaelix had hoped staying quiet would make things easier.
Instead, it made everything worse.
He read the message again.
“We need to talk.”
He didn’t want to. Because talking meant choosing. And choosing meant risking everything. But maybe... it was time. He let out a soft groan. He was on the verge of breaking down. He wanted to cry—so badly.
Maybe he would.
Maybe he wouldn’t.
Kaelix tapped out a reply.
Then sat back and let the weight of that word settle.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
The Day After
They met in a room that had seen their best and worst. The studio where their first song came to life. Where they’d laughed until dawn. Where Freo once fell asleep mixing vocals, and Seible tried to cover him in stickers. Where Kaelix recorded his first solo without shaking.
Where Zeal handed out drinks after every finished track, saying, “Care for a toast?”
Now, no one looked at each other.
Freo sat stiffly, arms crossed. Seible was twirling his rings like they might explode. Kaelix hugged his knees to his chest on the couch. Zeal leaned against the wall, uncharacteristically out of place.
Zeal cleared his throat.
“We’ve gotta stop.” Everyone looked at him.
“This,” Zeal said, gesturing between them. “This... mess. The silence. The assumptions. Whatever the hell we’ve all been tiptoeing around.”
No one spoke.
So he kept going.
“I don’t care who likes who. I don’t care what any of you thought was happening. But we’re a group. A team. And we’re falling apart. If no one else will, I will lead.” He spoke sternly, hand clenching slightly, with a lingering softness—and disappointment.
Freo looked away. Kaelix swallowed. Seible’s jaw was tight.
Zeal turned to Kaelix. “Kaelix. Say it. Whatever you’ve been burying.”
Kaelix opened his mouth. Then closed it. “I thought Freo and Seible were together. And Seible was with you,” he whispered. “So I gave up.”
Seible’s head snapped toward him.
Zeal nodded. “Freo?”
Freo’s voice was bitter. “I thought Seible liked you, while Kaelix seemed into both of you. So I tried to focus on work. Doesn’t feel like I fit.”
Seible blinked. “Furi-chan—”
Zeal raised a hand gently, with a soft hush. “Seible. Your turn.”
Seible looked around, laughter bubbling up—bitter in his throat. “I thought Kae-chan and you were together, Gin-chan. And Furi-chan didn’t seem interested in me before. So I... gave up too. Or so I thought.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Kaelix stared at his lap.
Freo looked at the ceiling, like it might offer clarity.
Zeal let out a quiet, breathless laugh.
“So we all thought someone else was already in love.”
Seible nodded slowly. “Yeah. Turns out we’re just idiots. And cowards.”
Freo looked at him then. Really looked. “You’re not wrong. I’m scared.”
Kaelix whispered, sounding so meek, “Then... what now?”
They all turned to Zeal.
He shrugged. “I still like all of you. But I’m done making decisions based on fear.”
Freo raised a brow. “You like all of us?”
Zeal met his gaze, unflinching. “Yeah. What, you don’t?”
Seible grinned suddenly—crooked and real. “So—are we all...?”
Kaelix blinked. “In love with each other? Like, for real for real?”
Another silence.
And this one was warm.
Freo leaned back, eyes wide with something like wonder.
Kaelix buried his face in his arms.
Seible whooped, “That’s crazy! I love it.”
Zeal laughed. Really laughed. “Well. Guess we’re starting over.”
And Kaelix finally burst into tears, the dam breaking with a quiet hiccup, years of tension spilling out with each breath.
.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
The moment the words “in love with each other” hit the air, the emotional dam broke.
It was like they’d all been clenching their jaws for months, and someone had finally shouted: breathe.
Kaelix collapsed into his arms, shoulders trembling. His sobs were muffled, but unmistakably dramatic in their misery.
No one moved at first.
Then Seible whispered, panic creeping in. “Okay. Uh. Is anyone gonna do something, or are we just letting him melt into the couch forever?”
Freo blinked. “He’s kind of already halfway in.”
Zeal groaned. “Oh my god.” He crouched in front of Kaelix like he was diffusing a very soggy bomb. Seible flopped down beside him. “Kae-chan. Sweetheart. Drama queen. Breathe.” Kaelix peeked up, eyes red and glossy. “I’m fine,” he sniffled.
He was not fine.
“Sure,” Freo deadpanned, settling on Kaelix’s other side. “You sound like a Victorian widow.” Kaelix hiccupped a laugh through his tears. “I feel like one. I’m falling apart.”
Seible took his hand, patting it with theatrical flair. “We mourn today the tragic death of clear communication. Taken far too soon.”
“I thought staying quiet would protect something,” Kaelix mumbled. “If I just... stayed out of the way, maybe I’d still be useful. Still needed.”
Zeal, now cross-legged in front of him, raised an eyebrow. “We don’t need you quiet. We need you. Even when you’re a mess. Especially when you’re a mess. Honestly, it’s kind of charming.”
Kaelix sniffed. “You think this is charming?”
Zeal smiled. “A little bit.”
Freo added, “Like a soggy kitten.”
Kaelix groaned, burying his face in his arms. “You guys are the worst.”
“And yet,” Seible said brightly, “here we are. Loving your soggy kitten self.”
The tension eased—just a little. Kaelix’s shoulders began to shake again, but this time with laughter. Wet, exhausted, ridiculous laughter. “I want to fix this,” he said at last. “Us. But I don’t know how.”
“We start by not assuming everyone else is in a secret relationship without you,” Seible said. “And yes, I’m talking to all of us.”
Zeal nodded. “And maybe we stop bottling up our crushes like it’s a slow-burn anime.” Freo snorted. “It was giving season three emotional climax.” Kaelix muttered, “More like filler arc misunderstanding.” Seible clapped his hands. “Alright. Step one: brutal honesty. Step two: cuddles.”
Kaelix blinked. “Is that... the actual order?”
“Yep,” Zeal said, rising. “You want to fix a polycule in shambles? Hugs. Then hard truths.”
“Scientific method,” Freo added, solemn.
Kaelix stretched his arms out with mock seriousness. “Okay. But I want the deluxe group hug. Full coverage. No weak participation.” Zeal hummed. “Cheeky, you’re such a menace.”
But they gave it to him anyway—awkward limbs and all. A pile of warmth, tangled limbs, and affectionate bickering. Eventually, Kaelix poked his head out from the middle of the hug. “So, uh... do we write a song about this?” Freo raised a brow. “We’re gonna rhyme trauma with drama, aren’t we?”
Kaelix groaned, half-buried in his hoodie. “We’re all so stupid. I was terrified everyone would hate me. Leave me. That I’d be alone.” The raw honesty stilled them again.
Seible pointed an accusatory finger at him, mock-offended. “You thought I was dating Gin-chan first? Me?! Mister ‘I get friend-zoned by baristas’?”
Kaelix didn’t even look up. “You kept leaning on him like you were about to kiss him! And he looked like he was gonna say yes!”
“That’s just how I lean!” Seible yelped. “I’m naturally tactile, Kae-chan! Also—I’M SHORT WITHOUT MY STILTS!”
“Not an excuse,” Freo muttered from the corner, arms folded, lips twitching. “You once sat on my lap to ‘charge your social battery.’”
Seible stuck his tongue out. “And you let me!”
That broke Zeal. He wheezed, draped over the back of the couch like the weight of the years had caught up to him. “You all seriously thought everyone else was paired off? That you had no chance? And still somehow figured it out, but underestimated yourselves that hard?”
Kaelix slowly lifted his head, eyes narrowed. “You thought Freo and I were soulmates. Why didn’t you just ask?”
Zeal shrugged. “Because I’m a coward who represses feelings with mixology and dramatic lighting.”
That broke Freo. He let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a wheeze. “You mean you’ve been pining like a noir film extra?”
“Care for a drink?” Seible mimicked in a smoky voice, tossing an invisible fedora. “Because I’d like a tall glass of communication.”
“Stop—” Zeal doubled over, laughing helplessly. “I hate all of you!”
“No, you don’t,” Freo said, smirking—smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks.
Kaelix curled tighter into himself, face blazing red. “I wanna go home.”
“You are home,” Seible said gently. “With us.”
And just like that, the air shifted—lighter. But real. They lingered even after the laughter faded. Freo sat beside Kaelix, their shoulders brushing. Seible lay sprawled across the floor like he’d just run an emotional marathon. Zeal stood with his arms crossed, smiling like sunlight was finally breaking through.
“So...” Freo said after a beat. “Now what?”
“We’re polyamorous disasters with trust issues and poor conflict resolution,” Seible chimed in, raising a finger. “So we communicate. Weekly check-ins. Feelings inventories. Color-coded calendars.” Kaelix gave him a flat look. “You’re just making things up now.”
“Maybe,” Seible winked. “But we do need to talk. A lot. Because this? This was chaos.”
Zeal nodded. “We take it slow. No pressure. No assumptions. But also... no more silence. If any of you can’t speak up, I will. Deal?”
They all nodded.
Then Kaelix, of all people, mumbled, “I still think Freo likes Seible more.”
Freo turned. Slowly. “Kaelix.”
“I knew it!” Seible shrieked, bolting upright. “You’re jealous!”
“I’m—no! I just—” Kaelix stammered and buried his face in Freo’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m new at this.”
Zeal patted his back. “We all are, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“Too late, baby.”
And somehow, impossibly...
They were okay.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
-End-