Between Us, Always

Dylan's POV

The next day, we gathered in the studio for practice like usual. No one said anything about last night. There was no need to.

Per was the first to pick up his instrument, already running through the chords before the rest of us had even settled in. His fingers moved with rigid precision, his focus sharp—too sharp, like he was forcing himself into the music just to keep everything else at bay.

We all noticed.

Nano, especially, seemed determined to stay near him, always within arm's reach. Whenever Per set down his instrument, Nano was right there—handing him a water bottle, throwing in a joke, giving him a small nudge as if silently reminding him he wasn't alone. Per didn't say much, but he also didn't push Nano away, which was something.

I strummed my bass absently, fingers moving over the strings without much thought. My attention, however, had drifted elsewhere.

Jun.

He was standing with Thame, the two of them hunched over a sheet of lyrics, deep in discussion. Thame's brow was furrowed as he pointed at something on the page, and Jun—cheeky, mischievous, always-a-troublemaker Jun—was actually listening intently, his head tilted, lips pursed in thought.

I found myself watching him longer than I meant to.

It wasn't unusual to see Jun focused, but something about the way he stood now, one hand resting on his hip, the other tapping a pen against the lyrics sheet, made my chest tighten in a way I couldn't quite place. He was wearing one of his oversized hoodies, sleeves bunched up to his elbows, exposing his forearms as he flipped through notes with ease. His hair was a little messier than usual, like he'd rolled out of bed and barely run a hand through it, but somehow that made him even more distracting.

I exhaled through my nose, forcing my eyes away.

This wasn't the time for distractions.

I refocused on my bass, adjusting the strap on my shoulder, but my mind betrayed me, drifting back to the way Jun had looked—his fingers moving quickly as he flipped through pages, the little crease between his brows when he concentrated, the way his lips parted slightly when he was deep in thought.

When had I started noticing these things?

A sudden burst of laughter snapped me back to reality. Jun had said something that made Thame groan, shoving him lightly in exasperation. Jun just grinned, and damn it—why did that make my stomach flip?

I swallowed, shifting my focus back to Per, who was adjusting his mic stand with the same methodical precision as before. He was keeping himself together for now, but the weight of everything still lingered in his eyes. I glanced at Nano, who caught my eye and gave me a small nod—an unspoken agreement that we'd both keep looking out for Per in our own ways.

And me?

I tightened my grip on my bass and forced myself to focus.

Practice first.

Everything else—especially the way Jun was starting to take up space in my mind—would have to wait.

Jun's POV

Band practice had always been my favorite part of the day. It was the one time I could focus on nothing but the music—the rhythm, the harmonies, the way everything clicked when we played together. No overthinking, no expectations, just sound filling up the space between us.

And today, I needed it.

I kept my head in the game, my fingers moving with precision as we ran through our setlist. Per was laser-focused, his playing sharp, his voice steady. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was perfectly fine. But I did know better. I caught the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his grip on his instrument was just a little too tight. He was using music as a shield, throwing himself into it so he wouldn't have to feel anything else.

Nano kept orbiting near him like a protective little shadow, making sure Per drank water between takes, nudging him every so often. It was oddly endearing, but I didn't say anything. Instead, I stayed in my lane, doing what I did best—balancing the mood.

We finished another run-through of a song, and I leaned back, stretching my arms above my head with a dramatic groan. "Whew! That was exhausting. Maybe we should all take a break and admire how handsome I am for a bit."

Thame, who was still holding his guitar, shot me a flat look. "Or maybe we should use that time to fix the part you keep messing up."

I gasped, clutching my chest. "Betrayal! I thought we were friends."

Thame sighed, rubbing his temples like he was questioning all his life choices. Nano snorted, and even Per's lips twitched slightly—small victories.

But Dylan...

When I glanced at him, his expression was unreadable. He was adjusting his bass strap, eyes down, jaw set. It was subtle, but something about the way he was avoiding looking at me made my stomach flip.

Huh?

I didn't have time to think too much about it because Thame had already launched into another song, expecting us to follow. I snapped back into focus, my hands instinctively finding the right rhythm.

For all my teasing, I did take this seriously. I wasn't the kind of guy to half-ass things, especially not when it came to our music. When it was time to work, I worked. My fingers moved swiftly across the strings, my voice coming in at just the right moment.

Dylan's bass came in strong beside me, steady and sure, and I couldn't help but glance at him again. He was locked in, focused, but there was a crease between his brows that hadn't been there earlier.

Interesting.

A mischievous grin tugged at my lips.

As soon as we hit the final note, I turned to Dylan with a smirk. "Nice playing, bass boy. You weren't staring at my hands in admiration just now, were you?"

Dylan stiffened, blinking at me before scoffing. "In your dreams."

"Hmm, I dunno..." I tapped my chin, pretending to think. "I mean, I get it. My hands are pretty mesmerizing."

Nano groaned. "Jun, I swear to—"

"Okay, okay," I laughed, holding up my hands in surrender. "I'll behave."