They played a whole song for her, and when they were done, Clara was left speechless.

She had thought she knew what she was about to see, about to hear, but she had known nothing. The videos and recording she had seen so far were to the real thing what a low-quality black-and-white photocopy was to a colorful painting; their voices were so much more intense, their sound so much richer, than any recording device could capture. And that didn't even touch on their performance. She was sure they weren't always this energetic when they practiced, this passionate and full of life; but in front of an audience they had gone all out, even if that audience was only one single person.

By all the rules of logic, these five shouldn't be here. They shouldn't be standing here in this bare-bones basement room, slaving their souls out for a minimal audience. They should be going on tour, playing sold-out venues all over the country.

"Wow," she said at last, shaking off the awe in the face of their expectant gazes. "That was…amazing."

The guys exchanged a glance. Freddie smiled a cautious smile. She grinned back, and he lit up, setting aside his guitar before striding over to join her.

"Thanks!" he said. "We work hard."

"I can see that!" she replied, scooting over as he sat down on the floor at her side. "I can't believe you guys aren't more successful. Whoever's doing your band's PR should be fired."

Freddie went pink. A few strides away, Theo and TJ turned away to hide their grins while Dylan burst into cackles.

"That'd be me," he said.

Clara could physically feel the blood draining from her face in response. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I really do keep insulting you. I didn't mean it!"

Clem faked a cough. The others couldn't hide their laughter anymore. Clara made a face. "I really am sorry," she added.

"It's okay," Freddie answered, looking unsure if he should laugh with the others or share her discomfort. "You're right. Promoting your music is hard as shit."

She smiled. "I believe you," she replied, then rose to her feet. "But that's why you asked for help, right? Every good band needs a good graphic designer."

Freddie was up in a heartbeat. "You have any ideas yet?"

"A couple!" she said, and now the others strolled over too, looking intrigued. "I can do some rudimentary designs and show you guys so you can choose which one you like. Any date I need to have it done by?"

Everyone looked at Theo, who gave a quick nod. "We're playing in a small event on Halloween," he said without needing to check any calendars. "If we could hang up the posters a week before then—"

"Done," said Clara, whipping out her phone to write down the deadline, mentally calculating the time that left her. Hanging up the posters a week before Halloween meant having them printed by then, which meant having the definitive design at least a few days early, which meant she'd have to deliver another week before the due date in case anything had to be reworked. Which meant she had…a pretty tight schedule now, but she had always worked well on a deadline.

"I'll try to have something to show you guys by the weekend," she continued, pocketing her phone again. "Then you can pick a design, and I'll do the rest. Is there any one of you I should contact about that?"

The others blinked, clearly not understanding her question, and she corrected herself. "Like, who's the graphics guy now?" she explained. "Or the visuals guy in general. You have to have one, right?"

They all looked at each other in a way that seemed anything but promising.

"You have to have someone who makes everything look nice," she prodded, glancing from one to the other. "…Right?"

"We all work together," said TJ. "We're not that great, but we can't afford to hire a pro so this is all we got."

"…Right." The idea didn't sit well with her, but she told herself that she really didn't have the time to do all the visuals for this band, even if she suspected it would help them a lot. "So I just…contact any one of you, or…?"

"You can contact me," said Freddie. "I'll show the others and tell you what they say."

Dylan nodded. "We all decide together," he said. "When one of us vetoes something, it's out. That's how we do things in this pack."

Clara snorted. "Pack?" she repeated. "First vampires and now werewolves?"

"Why not?" Dylan gestured around the room. "We're all just creatures of the night here, howling at the moon together and waiting for someone to hear us."

Behind him, Clem groaned. TJ rolled his eyes. "Poetry?" Theo asked in an undertone, grinning. "Really?"

"Don't be so boring, dude! What's the point of words if you can't use them?"

"Use less dramatic words," said Clem.

"I'll think about it and let you know the answer," Dylan retorted, "and the answer will be no."

"I'm gonna climb out the window."

Dylan turned around and blew him an exaggerated kiss.

"Why am I getting theater kid vibes," Clara said in an undertone.

"Not theater," said Dylan, turning back to her. "Classic literature. Know the difference."

"What is the difference?" she replied, trying not to show her surprise too much. She would have guessed Dylan to be a lot of things, but a literature major wasn't one of them.

"Theater kids are dramatic," Freddie answered in his stead, struggling to bite back a laugh. "Lit majors are dramatic and pretentious."

Dylan burst out laughing, and the others laughe with him. "You're the one to talk, bro!" he exclaimed. "You're the performance major, you literally study drama!"

"I do music performance, not theater," Freddie replied. "Don't act like it's the same!"

"Dude, everybody on stage is a little dramatic." Dylan gave him a good-natured pat on the arm. "You can't perform if you're a little bitch about that."

"Are you calling me a little bitch?"

"Hey, you said that, not me!"

"No, no, no, Dylan. Answer his question." Theo placed a very solemn hand on his shoulder, sending him a mock glare. "Are you calling my best friend a little bitch?"

A playful squabble broke out, then chaos broke out, and Clara watched it all with an amused smile on her face. She had no idea what any of them were thinking, but at the moment she found herself wishing for a comfortable seat and a bucket of popcorn.

"They're so loud."

Tip-toeing a little more than strictly necessary, TJ snuck over to sit down beside her, his eyes comically wide again. "But they're nice," he added, smiling. "Don't let them scare you."

Before she could respond, Theo sprinted over, crouching down behind him to hide from a Clem who had armed himself with his drumsticks. "TJ, hide me!"

"You're using the baby as a human shield?" Freddie called across the room, pausing in his tracks where he'd been chasing after a laughing Dylan. "I'm disappointed in you, Theo!"

"It's an emergency!"

"Shame on you and shame on your whole family!"

Jumping to his feet, Theo sprinted out from behind TJ and gave chase. Clem looked from one to the other, then gave TJ a playful hit in the stomach before turning around and walking off.

They were all lunatics, Clara thought as TJ went after Clem and the chaos was complete. Fun lunatics, though. The kind of chaotic and utterly weird she could work with.

She already had so many ideas.

~ ~ ~

Freddie went home that night feeling good about life, but as always, the good feeling didn't last.

That Clara girl was nice, he had to give her that. She was kind and encouraging, and what was more, she actually seemed to like their little band. She'd never had any obligation to praise Kids After Dark, especially not the way she had; she'd just done it because it was her genuine opinion, she genuinely believed they should be more successful. This girl didn't just like their sound; she actually seemed to believe in the band, and that was something he hadn't encountered in a long, long time.

Which was exactly why it all seemed a little too good to be true.

He had found the perfect designer to advertise the band, and she had liked their music. And sure, she had ghosted them at first, but she had also found them again at that party and sat with him and let him ramble about Kids After Dark for half an hour and agreed to do the posters anyway. And then she had come here, getting along with all his bandmates, and told them she couldn't believe they weren't more successful. Just like that, telling him everything he had wanted to hear for so long.

There had to be a catch. It was too perfect.

It had all gone so smoothly so far, at least since the party, and he could feel it in his bones that something was about to go wrong. Maybe she'd forget and ghost them again. Maybe something would go wrong with the design itself, or there'd be trouble with the deadline after real life interfered with her work. Something would backfire. Sooner or later, something would backfire.

Or maybe…maybe she hadn't been so genuine after all. Maybe he was going into this thinking he'd made a friend, found the band a new fan, and all along she was only being nice. Polite, casually supportive the way people were with kids and amateurs, hyping them up out of duty or pity while internally rolling their eyes. And he knew he shouldn't think that—they weren't kids, and they weren't amateurs. They all had years of experience, and all the ones who had given them a chance had stuck around. The only problem was that people never bothered to give them a chance in the first place.

Freddie sighed. His thoughts were going in circles again, going nowhere. All he knew was that each conversation with this girl felt too good to be true, and he was only waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Theo?"

On his side of the room, Theo groaned and rolled over. "What?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "This better be important, I was almost sleeping."

For a second Freddie wanted to wave it off, wanted to dismiss his own worries and go back to sleep. But in the end he had already woken him up after all. Might as well follow through.

"What," he said, "do you think of that poster girl?"

Theo blinked, still bleary, then he lifted his head. "Clara?"

"Yeah." Freddie propped himself up. "What do you think of her?"

"Hmm." Yawning, Theo stretched one arm over his head, brushing his knuckles against the headboard. "I think she's chill," he mused at length. "And she could really help us. Why you asking?"

Freddie looked at his hand.

Because after all these setbacks, I don't trust good things to happen anymore.

He lay back down.

"No reason," he said.

Normally Theo would've questioned that, would have called him a liar and argued with him until he spat out the truth. But tonight he was too sleepy to argue. Tonight his eyes were already falling shut again.

"M'kay," he mumbled, rolling back over. "Good night."

Silence fell over the room, and Freddie remained alone with his thoughts once more.

Oh, to hell with it.

His mind was going nowhere, so might as well go to sleep.