Band practice, break time | 3rd person POV

  Nickie leaned back against the wall, twirling a drumstick in her hand as she eyed Adam’s messy black hair, which hung in long, slightly uneven strands.

  “Hey, Bass Boy,” she started, her tone laced with mischief.

  “Did your hairdresser get stuck in a mosh pit halfway through cutting that?”

  Adam glanced up from his bass, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Nickie grinned. “I mean, it’s got that ‘Just survived an apocalypse’ vibe. Real metal, but also... maybe brush it once in a while?”

  David snorted from the corner. “She’s got a point, man.”

  Adam rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

  “It’s called a style. Something you wouldn’t get.”

  Nickie didn’t miss a beat.

  “Oh, I get it. It’s like your bass playing: chaotic but somehow still works.”

  Adam smirked, leaning against the wall.

  “At least I don’t look like I stuck half my head in a paint bucket and called it art.”

  Nickie gasped mockingly, clutching her chest.

  “Excuse you! This is intentional chaos. Yours is just… chaos.”

  Adam shook his head.

  “Whatever you say, Drummer Girl.”

  Nickie gave a mock bow. “Thank you for your acknowledgment, Mr. Brooding Bassist with a questionable hair care routine.”

  Nickie didn’t know exactly how it happened.

  One second, she was smirking at Adam, fully prepared to continue her verbal assassination of his so-called ‘style,’ and the next…

  She was airborne.

  “WHAT THE HELL!... ADAM!” she shrieked as she flew up a good two feet before gravity betrayed her, sending her back down…

  For Adam to catch her by her feet and hold her upside down like a caught fish.

  “See?” he said, smug. “Now your hair looks like it survived an actual mosh pit.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Adam grinned way too much for someone violating the laws of bandmate etiquette.

  Nickie, recovering from near-death by surprise airlift, flailed dramatically in his grip.

  “Put me down, you bass-wielding lunatic!”

  “What’s the magic word?”

  Nickie paused, narrowing her eyes.

  “Die.”

  Adam laughed, but instead of putting her down, he spun her around once for good measure.

  She shrieked again, half laughter, half genuine panic. “DAVID, CONTROL YOUR IDIOT BROTHER!”

  David, watching from the safety of his corner, sipped his coffee unbothered. “You’re asking for the impossible here, Nicks.”

  “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE RESPONSIBLE ONE!”

  Nickie realized she had two options: Accept her fate, or make this Adam’s problem.

  She chose violence.

  She swung her arms wildly, punching at his legs, kicking as hard as she could manage… Anything to make him drop her.

  Adam just laughed, unfazed. His long arms kept her from reaching him.

  “Careful, Nickie. You’re like a pi?ata. Keep swinging, and I might just see if candy comes out.”

  Nickie let out an offended gasp.

  “EXCUSE ME, I am NOT a pi?ata! You put me down right now, or so help me-”

  Adam grinned wider. “Alright.”

  And tossed her in the air.

  For half a second, Nickie knew fear.

  Then Adam caught her again, but this time, in a fireman’s carry, slung over his shoulder like a bag of stolen groceries.

  “Much better,” he declared proudly.

  Nickie went feral.

  She kicked. She elbowed him in the spine. She grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked it up over his head, temporarily blinding him.

  Adam staggered, arms flailing as he tried to fix his shirt.

  “Nickie! WHAT THE HELL-”

  “You mess with the drummer,” she huffed, wrapping her legs around his neck in a clumsy headlock,

  “You get the wrath.”

  Adam wheeled backward, nearly toppling into David’s amp.

  David, still sipping his coffee, did not move to help.

  Instead, he casually observed.

  “Hey, Adam, how does it feel to get taken down by someone a foot shorter than you?”

  “SHUT UP, DAVID!” Adam grunted, stumbling as Nickie clung to his head like an enraged koala.

  Nickie, victorious, cackled. “Admit defeat, Bass Boy! Say it! Say ‘Nickie is the superior musician and ruler of this band.’”

  Adam, still half-shirted and now slightly strangled, growled,

  “LIKE HELL I WILL.”

  Nickie tightened her grip. “Say it or I start drumming on your head.”

  “Don’t tempt her,” David muttered.

  In a last-ditch act of defiance, Adam grabbed Nickie by the waist, spun her off, and body-slammed her onto the couch.

  She bounced once. Blinked. Then shouted dramatically: “ASSAULT! I’M PRESSING CHARGES!”

  Adam collapsed onto the couch beside her, winded, arm on his eyes.

  “Got tired.”

  Nickie was kicking at his thigh.

  “You. Threw. Me. In. The. Air.”

  Adam gave a rare smile. “That’s called entertainment.”

  Nickie huffed, crossing her arms.

  “…It was kind of fun.”

  Adam chuckled. “I knew it.”

  David sighed, rubbing his temples. “I swear, I’m too old for this.”

  I just love how David is secretly happy for Adam and Nickie, Even though he feels old (At 26!)