*The bass from an old speaker rattled the basement walls while laughter bounced off the low ceiling. Someone was shuffling a deck of cards on the coffee table, two people were arguing over what song to put on next, and the room smelled faintly of cheap pizza and incense. It was the usual Friday night.

The basement door creaked open.

"Damn, y'all are loud," Mason laughed as he stepped inside, holding the door open behind him. "I brought somebody."

The conversations slowly died down as a tall figure ducked under the doorframe.

"This is Malachi Brooks," Mason said, giving him a playful shove forward. "He just transferred here a couple weeks ago. We had chemistry together, and he's actually cool, so don't scare him off."

clapped his hands together.

"Alright, introductions before y'all start acting weird."

He pointed toward the girl curled up on the couch.

"That's Lyric, seventeen. Honestly? She's probably the reason half this group even hangs out. She'll swear she's not funny, then say something that has everybody crying. She's got that effortless alt look going on—layered dark hair with soft curtain bangs, silver rings on nearly every finger, oversized hoodies stolen from thrift stores, ripped jeans, and beat-up Converse covered in doodles. Don't let the attitude fool you... she's got a good heart."

He motioned to the girl beside her.

"That's Rowan, seventeen. She changes her hair color every other month—I think it's dark red this week? Piercings, fishnets, combat boots... if you need someone to match your energy, it's her."

Another girl looked up from the floor, sketchbook balanced on her knees.

"And that's Juniper, but everybody calls her June. Also seventeen. Quiet until she isn't. She's got curly brown hair, round glasses, oversized sweaters, and somehow always knows every underground band before anyone else."

Mason pointed across the room.

"The guy digging through the snack bag is Elias, seventeen. Skateboard practically lives in his trunk. Blond curls, freckles, hoodies three sizes too big, and permanently scraped-up knees."

"And over there pretending he isn't listening is Diego. Seventeen. He's the sarcastic one. Dark wavy hair, tan skin, silver chain, tattoos drawn on his arms with Sharpie because his parents would kill him if they were real."

Finally, Mason looked back at Kai.

"...And now you've met everybody."

For a second, the room fell quiet.

Kai's gaze drifted around the basement before landing on Lyric for just a moment. He gave a small nod and the faintest smile.

Just like that, the music started back up, conversations picked up where they left off, and everyone slipped back into the comfort of the night.

None of them realized that bringing one new person into the group was about to change everything.*