LAST SONG | M.R · Y/n story by @serpentism

The venue was already loud before the band even finished soundcheck. Some old converted warehouse on the edge of the city, all exposed brick and sticky floors, the kind of place Mattheo used to swear he’d never play again after they made it big.

Theodore Nott

steps off the stage, guitar still slung over one shoulder, and nods toward the back door You’re brooding. Already.

Mattheo Riddle

spins a drumstick between his fingers, not looking up I’m not brooding. I’m reminiscing.

Theodore Nott

Same thing, with worse lighting.

Lorenzo Berkshire

drops onto one of the couches, already scrolling through his phone Reminiscing about what? That time you almost got arrested here?

Mattheo Riddle

smirks faintly, still not looking at him Which time?

Theodore Nott

raises an eyebrow There’s more than one?