Gelo's POV
The concert had ended, but my chest still hadn't slowed down.
Xiarya—no, Adra, to the world—sat slumped on the van seat beside me, hoodie pulled low over her face. Her breathing was even now, but earlier... I'd seen the way her legs trembled when the lights cut out. I'd felt her weight tilt toward me for balance during that final bow.
And when her voice cracked—God. That moment had punched me harder than any stage accident ever could. I'd stepped in instinctively, no thought, no hesitation. Because if she fell, the whole illusion fell with her.
I told myself that's all it was: instinct. Responsibility as the band's leader.
But the truth was messier.
The truth was, when her eyes had met mine backstage, wide and shining with guilt, something inside me shifted.
Something dangerous.
The Quiet Ride
Mark was dozing against the window. Steve hummed absently, earbuds in. The road stretched long and dark outside, city lights fading into highway blur.
Xiarya tilted her head toward me. "Thanks. For earlier."
I kept my eyes on the road. "Don't mention it."
"No, really. You saved me out there."
I finally glanced at her. She was fiddling with the strings of her hoodie, her disguise slipping for once. Not Adra's mask of cold indifference, but Xiarya's nervousness bleeding through.
"You didn't quit," I said simply. "That's what mattered."
Her lips curved into the faintest smile. Small, but real.
And damn it if it didn't make my heart stumble.
The Next Day
Campus was its usual chaos—students spilling through the gates, laughter bouncing off concrete walls, the smell of street food hanging in the air.
But even in the crowd, whispers followed us. "Sudden Music." "Did you see last night's concert?" "Adra looked... different, but wow."
Different. That word stabbed sharper than it should have.
Xiarya pulled her hood tighter, shrinking into herself.
I nudged her shoulder. "Relax. They're just fans."
She nodded, but her hands wouldn't stop twisting the straps of her bag.
And then I saw her.
Camille.
Leaning against the lockers again, arms crossed, eyes sharp as glass. Waiting.
My stomach dropped.
Camille's POV
I wasn't imagining it.
The boy who walked these halls now wasn't the same Adra I knew. His silence was different. His steps lacked the weight they used to. And yesterday's concert? That break in his voice? Unthinkable.
Something was wrong.
And today, I was going to prove it.
Xiarya's POV
When I saw Camille blocking the hallway, my blood ran cold.
She smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "Adra."
I forced myself into the role. Shoulders back, face blank, voice low. "Camille."
"You looked... off last night," she said, tilting her head. "Not like you."
My heart hammered. "Everyone has off days."
Her gaze sharpened. "Not you. Not Adra Torres."
Behind me, I felt Gelo tense. Ready to step in. But if he did, she'd only suspect more.
I had to end this.
So I smiled—not Adra's cold half-smile, but my own. Softer. Warmer.
"Maybe you just see me too closely," I said. "Closer than anyone else. And sometimes, when you're that close... you start imagining cracks that aren't really there."
Camille blinked.
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "You know me better than the rest, don't you? That's why you notice what no one else does."
Her lips parted. A faint blush crept up her cheeks.
"And that's why I can trust you not to spread those doubts," I added. "Because you understand me. Don't you?"
Her breath hitched. "...Y-yeah."
I held her gaze for a beat longer, then turned, walking away without another word.
Behind me, Camille stayed rooted to the floor, stunned silent.
Gelo's POV
I exhaled slowly once we were out of earshot. "You handled that."
"Barely," Xiarya muttered.
"No." I shook my head. "She's done. You charmed her into silence."
She gave me a small, uncertain look. "You think so?"
I thought about Camille's face—her flush, her wide eyes. Yeah. She wasn't doubting anymore. She was smitten.
I looked back at Xiarya. "Yeah. You killed it."
She smiled faintly, the tension finally easing from her shoulders.
And that smile—God, it did something to me. Again.
I told myself it was relief. Just relief that the trouble was over.
But the truth was, the more I saw her, the harder it became to remember she wasn't supposed to be here at all.
Later That Night
Back at the house, the others were sprawled around the living room. Steve was gaming, Mark flipping through a notebook, Gelo pacing with his phone.
Xiarya sat quietly in the corner, scrolling through Adra's old notes, studying every detail she could.
I watched her, unseen. The way she chewed her lip when she concentrated. The way her hair slipped loose when she thought no one was looking.
She wasn't Adra. She was Xiarya.
And I was starting to fall for her.
Which was the one thing I absolutely couldn't do.