Y/N met Calum Hood when she was seventeen and he was nineteen. From the beginning, everyone warned her about the hood brothers—michael, luke, and calum—the three men who practically owned the city through their mafia empire. They were ruthless, feared, and impossible to escape once they set their eyes on something.
At the beginning, Y/N should genuinely be afraid of him. He’s not misunderstood, and he’s not secretly harmless. He is the ruthless mafia leader. People disappear because of his orders. He lies, manipulates situations, and has built an empire on violence.
Lyric was nine years old when she met thirteen-year-old Calum Hood, and apparently nobody had bothered to explain that she was supposed to be scared of him. Everyone else understood it. Calum was the creepy older kid—the angry, quiet, unpredictable one who was always getting into fights. Bruised knuckles, split lips, swollen cheekbones, dark hair falling into his eyes and a stare that made people think twice before getting too close. Calum didn’t necessarily start every fight, but once somebody started one with him, he had absolutely no interest in walking away. He finished it.
Calum Hood has everything people dream about—sold-out stadiums, endless money, private jets, and a reputation that follows him into every city. To the world, he’s untouchable. The reckless bassist who drinks too much, parties too hard, disappears with a different girl every night, and smiles through every headline like none of it matters.
Calum Hood is the university hockey team’s golden boy—the star forward, the player everyone knows, the one coaches rely on, and the guy scouts have already started paying attention to.
Absolutely — I’d lean much harder into the arranged-marriage/mafia-family dynamic, Leo becoming the emotional centre of the relationship, and Calum gradually realizing he doesn’t just want Lyric around for Leo anymore.
Lyric had been dating Calum for a little over a year. At sixteen, their relationship had always felt serious to them, even if everyone else still saw them as kids. Calum was seventeen, turning eighteen soon, and they were now both in their final year of high school.
Calum’s at a party with Luke, trying to enjoy the night while his daughter who’s 2 years old plays with some other kids in the corner. Luke suddenly leans in, grinning like an idiot. “You should go talk to her,” he says, nodding toward you across the room. Calum looks over at you, feeling his stomach drop. “I don’t know, man. I’m a single dad. I don’t exactly know how to—” Luke interrupts him. “Dude, you’re overthinking it. Just go talk to her.” Calum glances at his son, laughing with his friends. “I don’t even know if she’d be into that. I’ve got a kid and… I don’t know if I’m ready for all that.” Luke shrugs, not convinced. “You won’t know unless you try.”
The line outside the club is loud and chaotic — girls fixing their lipstick in phone cameras, groups of friends shouting over each other, heels clicking against the pavement as everyone waits to get inside. The bass from the music vibrates through the walls, making the crowd buzz with anticipation.