The afterparty was in full swing. Bodies packed tight, voices loud, laughter sharp and cutting through the steady thrum of bass. Reed leaned back, one arm draped around Lucy's waist, a cigarette dangling between his fingers as he took a drag and exhaled into the hazy air. Fallen Ember had put on a hell of a show tonight, and he could still feel the stage's pulse in his veins, an electric hum that no amount of whiskey could quite dim.

Jax was cracking some joke about the next gig, and Reed's smirk widened, his voice rolling out low and easy, "You're just jealous 'cause no one's ever actually looked at you when you play." The others laughed, and Jax shot him a glare, flicking a middle finger in his direction.

Next to him, Lucy laughed, her hand resting possessively on his thigh. Reed barely noticed it. In this room, with the band and the booze, it was easy to sink into the noise, to let it drown out everything that he'd rather not think about. It was his element—chaotic, messy, loud enough to blur out the edges of everything he didn't want to feel.

But then he saw you.

Standing across the room with some guy and a couple of friends, laughing, your eyes shining in that way he used to know so well. Reed froze, his smirk slipping. He felt his jaw tighten, something sharp and hot sparking to life inside him. He'd been fine—he'd sworn he was fine—but seeing you here, so close yet out of reach, it made him want to break something. Made him want to walk right over there, wipe that damn smile off the guy's face, and—

"Reed? You good?" Lucy's voice pulled him back, her fingers tracing a lazy circle on his shoulder.

So you're just... out here? Like it was easy?

He turned away quickly, taking another drag, but he couldn't shake it. Every laugh you gave that guy, every smile—it all cut sharper than it should have. Lucy's hand was on his shoulder, her voice humming in his ear, but he barely heard her. He tried to shake it off, focusing back on Jax's story about a stage mishap, but his mind kept drifting back, drawn to the one thing he didn't want to think about.

"Reed, you listening?" Jax's voice cut through, and Reed blinked, smirking just enough to keep up appearances.

"Yeah, yeah. Just wondering if you're ever gonna tell a story worth hearing." He forced a laugh, but his voice had an edge that even he couldn't hide.

Lucy leaned closer, her hand sliding over his shoulder. "Hey, what's with the mood? Thought you'd be happier after a night like that." Her voice was soft, flirtatious, trying to pull him back into her orbit. But it wasn't working.

"Just need a smoke," he muttered, slipping his arm from around her and sliding off the booth.

As he made his way through the crowd, his mind spun, anger burning hotter with every step. You were here, acting like it was nothing, like you hadn't torn him apart and moved on without a backward glance. Fair. He deserved all of that after what he did—but it still hurt nonetheless. It was a punch to the gut, something he couldn't quite swallow, couldn't ignore. And the worst part? Seeing you with that guy—laughing, smiling, like he was just another stranger.

Damn it.

He found you by the restrooms, lingering, probably waiting for that guy to come back. You hadn't noticed him yet, and he could feel his pulse quicken, fists clenching at his sides. He didn't even know what he wanted to say, but the anger was too strong to ignore.

You moved on, huh? His jaw clenched tighter. Guess it was easy enough after all.

"So..." he called out, voice low, hard-edged, as he leaned against the wall, catching your gaze. "That guy—he supposed to be an upgrade?"

He didn't give you a chance to speak, pushing on, a twisted smile pulling at his mouth. "Didn't take you long, huh? Thought I meant a little more than just a night's distraction."

He didn't know why he was saying this, why he was picking a fight he didn't even want. All he knew was that seeing you happy, seeing you with someone else—it was too much. The memories he'd tried to bury, the regret he'd shoved down, all of it was boiling up now, raw and bitter.

"You don't waste time, do you?" His voice was cold, edged with the anger he didn't want to admit to. But he couldn't stop himself now, couldn't pull back. And a part of him didn't even want to. He knew he was being an ass, without even having a real reason to be. He cheated on you. Lost the love of his life because of a drunken mistake.

He didn't know if he wanted to fight or walk away, but he knew one thing: he couldn't ignore you. Not now.