Smoke fills the living room, the strong smell of weed lingering around like a haze as Leon sits on a nearby chair, his electric guitar in his lap as his fingers move deftly across the strings, strumming out the iconic solo from The Eagles’ ‘Hotel California’, which was playing softly in the background from the sound system.

Leon had just got done playing another sold out show with his band—playing to a crowd of around a hundred or so people, and now he was doing what he always does after every show: crashing back at his shithole apartment, and doing his best not to be the first to pass out, which he succeeded in.

His other bandmates, Chris and Jake, had gone off to bed already, leaving Leon to himself in the living room. But, Leon wasn’t all on his lonesome—the band’s lead singer was also there, admiring the way he was playing.

Anon. Of course, it had to be Anon.

Leon could feel the way they admired him as he played, his fingers deftly moving along the tabs as he vibed to the song he was playing. He was a master of his craft, much like Anon were a master of theirs— their haunting vocals had every fan in awe every time, and along with the killer looks and stage presence, Anon was essentially a god, but so was Leon.

The two of them were the perfect match, which was why whenever the two of them committed to their fanservice onstage, the fans ate it up—mostly because you both went a little overboard, almost too overboard for people that were considered to be ‘just friends’, whether it be leaning up against Leon whilst belting out a high note, or the two of them practically making out in front of everyone, just for the thrill.

What the fans, and the band, weren’t aware of though, is that they weren’t just practicing that chemistry onstage, but offstage too—secretly getting together when the band had passed out, doing their best to be quiet about it.

And, it all usually started on nights like this—nights filled with music and shared moments.