3rd person POV

  Alonzo:

  A senior in B.T public

  Also the frontman and guitarist of a grindcore band called Fonfobia.

  He had heard whispers about the Rustpit gig.

  He was hanging out at The Crater, the local punk haven where scene veterans traded stories over cheap beer and loud music.

  The murmurs were faint at first.

  Something about a debut band that had stolen the show from an otherwise lackluster lineup.

  “You should’ve been there, man. It was fucking SLAUGHTER.”

  “Did you read that article in DIEFORSTEEL?!”

  That sealed it.

  “REAPERAND, huh?” Alonzo muttered, scanning the piece on his cracked phone screen.

  Alex Kenes’s colorful descriptions of the band, (the commanding basslines, explosive drumming, and razor-sharp riffs) jumped out at him.

  A photo accompanying the article showed three figures, partially shadowed, but the bassist’s silhouette looked oddly familiar.

  It hit him like a power chord as he saw their names.

  “No fucking way… That’s fucking Adam!”

  DIEFORSTEEL: Underground Resurgence – A Night of Raw Power

  By Alex Kenes, Editor-in-Chief

  ***

  Protective much?

  Alonzo found Adam where he often did during breaks: on the school’s rooftop, leaning against the railing and staring at the sky.

  A slight breeze played with Adam’s long, dark hair, and his usual withdrawn expression was softened, almost contemplative.

  “Yo, Bass Legend!” Alonzo called, smirking as he pushed open the creaky rooftop door.

  Adam turned, startled at first, then relaxed slightly when he saw Alonzo. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice low but not unfriendly.

  Alonzo crossed the roof in a few long strides, and threw himself down on the bench nearby.

  “So… When were you gonna tell me you finally made a band, huh? REAPERAND, huh? Gonna leave your old buddy Alonzo in the dark?”

  Adam blinked, his brow furrowing.

  “How’d you find out?”

  Alonzo brandished his phone like it was a royal decree. “Behold! DIEFORSTEEL: your dramatic coming-out party.”

  Adam blinked. “…You’re impossible.”

  “Hey! Alex Kenes doesn’t just hype anyone. He wrote a whole love song about you guys! Basically called you a ‘Storm trapped in human form.’ I mean, come on, bro. That’s badass.”

  Adam glanced at the screen briefly before looking away, his face coloring faintly. “I didn’t know he’d write all that.”

  ‘I knew it, David… Why did you approve such a piece? Jesus, god dammit…’

  “You didn’t know?” Alonzo scoffed. “Dude, you’ve got a fanbase forming out there, and you’re up here brooding in solitude? Classic Schwartz.”

  Adam shrugged, but Alonzo wasn’t done.

  “And what’s this about your drummer? Nickie, right? Heard she’s insane on the kit.”

  Adam stiffened, his jaw tightening slightly. For a second, he didn’t answer.

  The wind tugged at his hair again, like a hand pulling him away from the conversation.

  “Yeah, she’s… good.”

  “Good? That’s all you’re giving me?” Alonzo raised a brow, his curiosity piqued.

  “C’mon, man. What’s the deal? She some mystery genius or what?”

  Adam sighed, fiddling with a loose thread on his sleeve. “She’s… part of the band. That’s it. Don’t get weird.”

  Alonzo smirked but let it slide.

  “Alright, alright. Protective much? Relax, I'm not gonna steal her, our drummer is decent enough. Anyway, we have to do something together. Fonfobia and REAPERAND. Imagine the chaos,” Alonzo said, eyes gleaming.

  “Your doom riffs, my noise walls. We’d melt skulls before the second chorus.”

  Adam hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I don’t know…”

  “What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’?” Alonzo clapped him on the shoulder.

  “C’mon, you and me? On stage? It’ll be legendary.”

  Adam’s lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile. “You’d have to talk to David. He handles that stuff.”

  “Your brother?” Alonzo pulled out his phone.

  “Alright, give me his contact. I’ll make it happen.”

  As Adam recited David’s number, Alonzo couldn’t help but notice the faint light in Adam’s eyes, the way his shoulders seemed less hunched.

  For the first time since he could remember, his friend didn’t look like he was drowning.

  “But seriously, man. I’m proud of you.”

  Adam looked at him. No smirk, no sarcasm.

  Just looked.

  Then, slowly, a soft breath left him.

  “Thanks,” He murmured.