Hunt sat on a stool, elbows on his knees, staring at the unfinished Chevy Impala parked in the corner, bathed in muted light filtering through the half-open garage door. The car was still as lifeless as it had been for years, white paint dull and peeling in some places—a reminder of everything left undone.

And he couldn't bring himself to touch it.

"Mom, why do you keep driving around without me?"

A young Dominic, eyes wide with curiosity, watched his mother tinker under the hood. He pouted, running to her side.

She laughed, surprised, and scooped him into a hug. "Well, how about next time I take you along?" she said, ruffling his hair. "It's good to speak up when you want something, Dom. Choosing the life you want is fun."

He used to know every inch of this car. He could hear it purr to life in his head, the way it used to respond to his mother's hands on the wheel. But now it was just.. there. Cold. Silent. A reflection of the promises he'd left rusting. His fingers twitched, longing for motion, for purpose, but doubt rooted him in place—before he pushed it away, shaking his head sharply.

Letting out a breath that felt like it had been held for years, he steeled himself. The stool screeched loudly as he stood abruptly, the sound cutting through the heavy quiet. The urge to do something finally clawed its way to the surface. He reached for a wrench on the workbench, the weight of it grounding him.

For the first time in years, he popped the hood.

"Why is picking friends important?"

His mother chuckled, lifting him onto her lap. "You're still sooo young," she said, tapping his nose playfully, eliciting a little giggle from him. "But remember, choosing who you want to be close with is grounding. Living a life based on essentials isn't about having less—but it's about valuing what you can't live without."

The engine stared back at him, tangled and neglected, but not beyond repair. His hand hovered over the parts, hesitant at first. Slowly, though, he began working.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his neck as days passed. The rhythmic clinks and clatters of tools filled the garage. His shirt clung to him, streaked with oil and grease. The sun began to dip outside, casting warm, golden light across the space.

"Deciding what's essential in our lives isn't about getting rid of things we love. Instead of determining how little we can live with, it's about working out what we simply can't live without, Dom."

Finally, the moment of truth came. He wiped his hands on his jeans, enthusiastically slid into the driver's seat. His hand reached out to the key—but hesitation flooded back on the back of his mind. However, once again, he steeled himself.. before carefully, turned the key.

For a moment, there was only silence. He waited.. and waited.. until—

A low guttural roar filled the road. The sleek white Impala tearing through an open road, its white body gleaming in the golden glow of the sunset. Hunt was behind the wheel, his golden hair ruffled by the breeze through the open coupe. His aviator sunglasses glinting, his expression unreadable but calm, a sense of peace and purpose radiating from him.

"I'll be rooting for you from the sidelines. So listen to me—" she made sure his eyes stayed on hers, even as his little face scrunched in confusion. "You have to endure. Life is a hard journey, Dominic."

For a long time, he drove, a hand steady on the wheel, another rested on the transmission. Her words played over and over again in his mind.

This was his journey now—to make things right, and he wasn't going to stop until he got there.

"Because sometimes, even change for the better feels like a little death."

"You going to the funeral or something?"

The dim Halloween lights flickered ominously in The Emporio, giving the stage an eerie glow. Dan, perched behind the drums in full military getup, squinted at the person in all black, his face lined with disbelief and concern.

Dominic adjusted the mic stand with an air of indifference, completely out of sync with the rest of his band—didn't even glance his way. He adjusted the mic one last time, then leaned in with a nonchalant shrug. "Well, as a matter of fact, yes," he nonchalantly clarified, then yelled into the mic,

"My life indeed feels like a funeral!"

The sound echoed across the bar, earning a mix of groans and laughs from the scattered crowd. Val, strumming his guitar lazily, didn't even pause. "If only you knew how hard I just cringed," he muttered, shaking his head.

Meanwhile, at the entrance on the other side of the world, you and Talia made your grand arrival. Well, Talia did—confidently strutting in as a sexy version of a Labubu, her costume clinging in all the right places. You, on the other hand, had fully committed to a Crybaby-inspired outfit: pastel blue dress, oversized bows, and knee-high socks, the epitome of a sad.. crying.. baby..? You could feel the weight of stares from the crowd, but you didn't care. Or at least you tried not to.

But then you froze. Your worst fear stood just meters away.

Dominic, on stage with his band, the center of attention, wearing his broody all-black outfit like he had just walked out of a Tim Burton film.

"Tu vois, je t'avais dit qu'il serait là!" you hissed at Talia.

"Ya no shit, Ren. This is his bar," Talia replied while already taking a bunch of dessert, rolling her eyes.

"You said he was playing somewhere else!"

"I said that so you'd come out!" she said, throwing her arm around your shoulder as you tried to shake her off. "Biggest party of the year, babe. You weren't seriously going to skip this again, were you?"

"Yes! I was seriously going to skip this!" you snapped, glaring at her. "Do you know how awkward it's going to be if he sees me?!"

Talia waved you off with a breezy laugh. "Oh, relax. If he sees you, he sees you. No big deal. It's Halloween! Besides, maybe you'll find another hottie to cry about."

You gave her a deadpan side-eye. "Really? Someone new to cry about?"

Talia shrugged with a smug smile. "What? Yeah. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. Sure, at first, they'll be someone to cry onto, but in the end, they'll always be someone to cry about."

You rolled your eyes at her cynicism. "Who hurt you, Mosley?"

Talia just rolled her eyes back with a smirk. "Girl, we don't have that kind of time."

But all of the sudden, the bar lights dimmed, casting a warm, moody glow over the stage. The once-raucous crowd hushed into a reverent silence as he stepped up to the mic, his presence effortlessly magnetic.

"Hi."

You froze. That voice—low.. smooth, and familiar. It sent a ripple through you. It didn't matter how much time had passed; you'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" he said, tone calm with an edge of vulnerability.

The crowd erupted into cheers, and he chuckled softly, adjusting the mic stand, letting the energy settle as his gaze swept across the room. His smirk was casual, but his eyes betrayed something deeper.

"I used to come up here, singing the same old," he started, his voice steady, drawing everyone in. "But tonight—" he paused, lips curving into a faint, wistful smile. "Tonight isn't about the past."

The room fell into an almost unnatural silence, the kind where every heartbeat felt too loud. He glanced at the guitar in his hands, his smile faltering briefly. Then, almost as if he couldn't stop himself, he added, "Usually there's one more person up here with me, heh—"

The smile he gave was bittersweet, and his gaze dropped to the floor for a moment. The crowd chuckled lightly, sensing the rawness in his tone. "But.. we'll figure it out, yeah? Maybe I can convince her to sing with me again someday."

The audience laughed, their laughter a mix of support and amusement, but all it did was make you squirm. People around you began to notice, their eyes flicking enthusiastically between him and you—but you forced a small, awkward smile, shaking your head in silent denial.

Talia sighed beside you, draping an arm around your shoulder. "You okay?" she whispered, but you didn't answer. Instead, you dropped your gaze to the floor.. however almost like a magnetic pull, your eyes found their way back to him.

His face was shadowed, emotions guarded, but there was a crack in his armor—a vulnerability that hit you right in the chest. Your throat tightened as he straightened up, gripping the mic stand like it was his anchor.

"This.. is about someone who changed my life."

The band began to play, a soft, melancholic melody that perfectly matched the bittersweet tone of his words. He settled onto a barstool, strumming his guitar with practiced ease, his face shadowed by the dim light. And then, he began to sing.

"It's been a long time since we last spoke—I still wonder what you're up to~ After all the shit we've been through~"

His voice was rich and haunting, carrying a rawness that left no room for pretense.

"So if you're out there somewhere~ And if you still even care~ Possibly still questioning what is he.. doing~ I've been tryna find a way to numb all this pain~ Since you've been away~ I don't wanna feel anymore~"

Your heart ached as the lyrics poured out, each word landing with the weight of memories you'd tried to forget. He closed his eyes as he hit the chorus, voice dipping into something almost broken.

"It still.. hurts.."

The last note hung in the air, trembling before fading into silence. The room erupted in applause, but all you could hear was the echo of his voice in your head. You weren't sure if it was the song.. the moment.. or the way he looked at the mic like it was the only thing keeping him together—but something about it cracked the wall you'd been building around yourself. And before you could stop yourself, you felt it. That pang of longing you'd sworn you'd buried.

But suddenly, a girl in a Sailor Moon costume hugged him.

You froze, breath catching in your throat. Eyes wide, you tried to process what you were seeing, but the scene only got worse.

He started talking to her, not just casually, but with that smile—the one you hadn't seen in a while. Laughter bubbled between them, carefree and easy. Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, he draped his arm around her shoulders and led her towards Dan and Val.

"Ren, you ok—hey! Renata for fucks sake—!"

Talia reached out, but it was too late.

Your legs had a mind of their own, propelling you forward through the crowd.

On stage, Dan casually watched Val and the girl chatting with a smile on his face. But somehow, as if some higher power propelled him to—he glanced up..

And caught sight of you—nostrils flared, eyes blazing like the inferno yourself.

He immediately tensed, eyes darted nervously between you and Dominic. Then his eyes solely landed on Dominic, who was now obliviously laughing with the girl. The way his arm stayed around her shoulder—and now Dan knew.

He knew this was gonna go bad.

He stood up, hands flailing awkwardly as if trying to wave Dominic off. That's when Dominic sensed the commotion, turning to look at Dan with a puzzled expression. 'What?' he mouthed—and Dan frantically motioned behind him toward you—but it's too late.

The sound of mic getting picked up buzzed around the group. Looking disturbed, Dominic turned his gaze—and the laugh died on his lips, replaced by a wide-eyed panic. Hastily he pushed the girl toward Val, muttering something as his eyes darted back to you. 

"Des hommes comme toi? Vous êtes tous les mêmes! Vous chantez vos belles chansons sur quelqu'un, et regardez-vous maintenant! C'est pathétique. Tu es pathétique!"

​​Dominic blinked, completely lost. His panic grew as he scanned the crowd for help—and his eyes landed on a guy who sat in the corner, nonchalantly eating like nothing was happening. Desperately gesturing with his face to translate, the other blonde groaned, finally setting down his food and standing up with an exaggerated sigh.

"You're a fucking dick. A player. And completely unreliable."

The entire bar gasped.

Your head tilted slightly, brows furrowed. For a moment, you blinked, momentarily taken aback by the blonde's.. lack of translation. But you didn't care enough to argue. Instead, you shrugged, turned back to Dominic, your anger reigniting.

"She's a fan, Rena!" Dominic blurted, panicking.

"Oh yeah, sure! And you just had to wrap your arm around her like that?!"

"Oh, come on—you've already got a boyfriend anyway! And taking him to the ramen place?! BUONGIORNO!"

At the last comment, Tyler's face twisted in mock offense from below, while Liam looked like he had long resigned himself to this nonsense.

Retracting your head, your brow furrowed in pure confusion. "The hell are you talking about? That was a group project!"

"A group project?" Dominic's brows shot up, and a sly grin began to spread across his face. "Ohhh, he's not a boyfriend—"

However, before he could finish, you spun away from him, turning your attention to the crowd. "Sometimes, I just wonder how men can be so completely unreliable," you said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The women in the bar started murmuring in agreement, some nodding their heads.

"Do you know what happens when they say they'll 'make it up to you'? They bail!"

A small ripple of applause broke out in the crowd as more women—and little circle of men nodded fervently. Dominic glared at the growing support behind you, his teeth grinding as he hissed at Dan and Val, "Where the fuck is the other mic—!"

"The men we've been watching in movies—or reading about in books since we were nine? They're a lie. A moment in some romantic festival~ so full of potential—ruined. Why? Because men aren't strong. They're not brave. Men. Are. Phonies."

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd, but before you could continue your rant, another voice cut through, clear and bold.

"Let me tell you something about women."

You turned sharply to see Dominic standing beside you, holding a mic, his expression unyielding as he stepped closer. The crowd was completely silent, all eyes on the two of you.

"Women would have us believe they're the victims," he said, his tone sharp and dripping with challenge. "That we break their hearts for sport. That's crap!"

You glared at him, but he didn't falter, leaning into the mic like he was presenting a case to a jury. "They say they want true love~ but all they're looking for? Is a checklist. Is he perfect? Is he handsome? Is he a certified husband material and quarterback?!"

From a distance, Raymond was losing his mind, flailing like he was about to charge toward the stage. Behind him, his girlfriend struggled in holding his arm, before yanking him back, and dragged him out of the venue before he could escalate the chaos.

Your jaw clenched as the crowd murmured in reaction, a mix of laughter and awkward chuckles rippling through the room. Dominic, ever the performer, took it one step further, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"And even if you ever think you can match their impossible criteria, don't get your hopes up," he continued, turning directly toward you, his words cutting. "Because women—want a carefully calculated set of choices, the human equivalent of a Tinder bio. No gesture—no matter how real or romantic—will ever compensate for an impressive list of credentials."

He paused for effect, pretending to think, a mocking glint in his eye. "Or especially for a guy who's been sitting longer in her life, huh?" His tone was smug, the insinuation as loud as the gasps from the crowd.

You stepped closer, your face a mask of anger. "All this—coming from a man who's never made a gesture other than sex!"

Dominic blinked, momentarily stunned, but then he laughed bitterly, stepping even closer until the two of you were nearly face-to-face. "Oh so everything I've done wasn't a gesture? If only you knew the lengths I've gone for you—"

"Okay. Let's talk about what you've done," you snapped, cutting him off. "Every 'gesture' is followed by a panic moment from your part—apparently. Remember the festival?"

Dominic's expression darkened. "Panic?! Ana cockblocked us!"

The room collectively gasped, heads turning in every direction. Spotlights shifted suddenly, landing on Ana, who stood frozen in the crowd, a drink halfway to her mouth. Her wide eyes darted between you and Dominic.

"Me?!" Ana squeaked, her voice echoing in disbelief.

You were sitting in the backseat of Dominic's car, your wet clothes clinging to your skin after an unexpected rainstorm. The quiet hum of the engine filled the space, and you let out a nervous laugh, breaking the silence.

"Sorry the car's all wet—" you muttered, fingers fidgeting in your lap.

Dominic didn't answer. Instead, he turned to you, his golden locks falling over his forehead, droplets of rain still clinging to the tips. His intense gaze met yours, his face a mix of determination and something deeper—something raw.

Before you could say anything else, he cupped your cheeks, his touch warm against your cold skin. Your heart stuttered, the blush creeping across your face. The world outside faded as he leaned in, slow and deliberate, his breath mingling with yours. Then, his lips pressed against yours, soft but urgent, pulling you into him like he couldn't bear to let go.

Until—

TETOT! TETOT!

A loud honk of a car startled the both of you. Dominic froze, his hand still resting on your cheek, and you both turned toward the sound in sync. The camera shifted, capturing Dominic's side profile—a cinematic golden glow from the faint streetlights illuminating his sharp features. Brows furrowed in annoyance as you both stared out the window, your flushed faces marked with confusion.

From the car behind, Ana leaned out of the driver's seat, hands still pressed on the horn, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Seriously?!" she yelled, her voice muffled by the window.

Dominic's jaw clenched, his lips twitching as if he were physically holding back a string of curses, golden locks falling into his eyes as he snapped,

"I DO NOT TOLERATE ANY COCKBLOCKS—!"

But Ana, undeterred, kept honking along with the growing line of cars behind her, all of them honking impatiently. The headlights flickered, adding to the chaos.

With a resigned sigh, Dominic turned back to you, his frustration melting into something softer. Quickly jumping to the front seat, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he restarted the car.

"Dont you dare blame this on Ana! You cockblocked us!"

You shouted, pointing accusingly at Dominic while Ana gasped dramatically, her expression morphing into delight. Dominic turned back to you, his golden locks disheveled and his face contorted in a mix of shock and annoyance.

"How the fuck is it MY FAULT?!"

You threw your hands up, exasperated. "YOU PARKED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAMN ROAD!" Deliberately, you pushed the mic away from you, before in a hushed but pointed whisper, you added, "We could've continued it in the dorm!"

The crowd in the front row collectively gasped, their reactions rippling like a wave through the bar. Tyler and Liam exchanged grins that screamed 'dumb and dumber,' while, from a distance, Talia—ever the supportive friend—rolled her eyes and took a drink from the guy beside her, downed it in one go and muttered, "Oh my god."

You glanced around the room, realizing just how many ears had caught your confession. But Dominic, never one to lose an opportunity, leaned closer, smirk turning seductive as he whispered directly into your ear, "Listen—why don't we pick a room right now—"

Your breath hitched in disbelief before you scoffed loudly, shoving his shoulder. Huffing, you stormed off, your voice rising with exasperation as you shot back over your shoulder, "Ohmygod—if you really think about it," you continued, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Liam is really the destroyer of relationships, huh?"

The room collectively gasped, heads snapping toward Liam like they'd just been given prime gossip material. Tyler nodded enthusiastically beside him, like a kid agreeing to candy for dinner. Next to him, Liam, mid-bite of a sandwich, froze. His brow furrowed as he looked around in confusion before blurting out,

"HUH?! WHY ME?!" Liam blurted out, dropping his fork in frustration.

The awkward silence in Dominic's car was thick enough to choke on. You sat stiffly, now in the passenger seat with arms crossed, glancing out the window, while Dominic gripped the steering wheel, his jaw set tight. Ana's car trailed behind you, patiently creeping forward on the dusty road..

When a sudden, loud, and relentless honking shattered the tension. You grimaced, squinting in irritation as the noise drilled into your head. Dominic, clearly just as annoyed, rolled up the window with a sharp motion, muttering under his breath. But you, unable to squash the growing curiosity, leaned out of your seat and craned your neck to glance behind Ana's car.. to find that behind her vehicle..

Furious Liam in the car—directly behind hers.

His face a mix of impatience and rage, hands glued to the horn as if his life depended on it. "MOVE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD—MOVE!" Liam's muffled yelling was barely audible over the relentless blaring of his horn. He smacked the steering wheel in frustration, leaning forward like that would somehow speed up the process.

You stared for a second longer, lips twitching as you bit back a curse. Turning back, you sighed, muttering under your breath,

"This is exactly why you shouldn't have guy friends."

Thank you for reading! Don't forget to vote, comment, and add to your library!

Check out some additional content on social media:

Cecylia Costania @rcpcs

You can elevate your experience by also listening to songs I added to this story's playlist! I'll reveal the Playlist by the end of this story, so.. Stay Tuned!

The song that matches this Chapter's vibe:

https://youtu.be/XR7Ev14vUh8

"Hi,"

https://youtu.be/_MlYUgZnZcU

And caught sight of you—nostrils flared, eyes blazing like the inferno yourself.

https://youtu.be/Iq8h3GEe22o