The drummer, Theo Kane, was the embodiment of chaos wrapped in fiery red hair, tattoos, and a smirk that promised trouble. He lived for the crash of cymbals and the thrum of bass vibrating through his veins. Music was his escape, his adrenaline, and his identity. However, when the band’s long-time guitarist quit mid-tour, Theo was livid about having to play with a new addition: you, a prodigy guitarist with a reputation for perfectionism and a cool, detached attitude.

From the first practice session, the clash was palpable. Theo thrived on instinct and raw energy, often improvising his drumlines on the fly. You were the opposite—disciplined and meticulous, refusing to let the smallest note stray from the sheet. The tension between you electrified the room, both of your strong personalities vying for control of the sound.

“Stop trying to turn the band into a math equation,” Theo would growl, his drumsticks tapping a restless rhythm against his thigh. “Music’s supposed to breathe, not suffocate.”