1

Ever felt like a third wheel?

Y'know... two of your friends ask you to go out, but it's painfully obvious they are only doing it out of pity. It's a sympathy invite, because you're hopelessly, undeniably, pathetically single.

So single, in fact, that when your right hand gets a cramp in the middle of beating off, you just abandon ship before it has the chance to give you the, ‘It's not you, it's me,' speech.

You agree to a boys' night out, then spend the next three excruciating hours watching them suck face and eye fuck each other like you don't exist. Now you're reflecting on your questionable life choices that led you to this awkward moment in time.

Got all that painted as a pretty little picture in your brain?

The awkwardness?

The regret?

The uncomfortable, unwelcome boost to your libido that's just coated in loneliness?

Sweet.

Take that, multiply it by two, and turn those three hours into five days a fucking week , because holy shit, my bandmates are some horny motherfuckers. The cloud of sex that follows them around might as well be toxic gasses, caustic and charring as it slides down my throat.

They're coupled up and happy, while I'm left staring at the wall when things get too intense.

Third wheel… try fifth wheel.

"Ugh, why do you always look so fucking… cool ?" Theo complains from beside me as he tucks his bass guitar into its case, and I offer him a small smile. His and Dante's attempt at discretion is thwarted by the white spot on Theo's lips that's decidedly not toothpaste. Another ‘secret' bathroom blowjob by one of those aforementioned couples that takes pity on me.

Want to talk cool?

That would be cool.

Not with Dante —dear God, I shudder at the thought—but a bathroom blowjob in general.

Hell, I'd settle for a half-hearted bathroom handie right now if it meant taking the edge off this tension.

"Alright, alright, embracing the strong and silent vibes today. I can appreciate the aesthetic." Theo heaves a dramatic sigh as he flops onto the couch, cum-stained lips and all.

Maybe I should tell him.

"Wasn't aware you needed a response," I say, and I instantly regret the sharpness of my tone, even if Theo remains oblivious to my irritation. My fingers twitch, itching for a cigarette despite quitting over ten years ago.

Breathe.

His hands shoot up into the air, flapping and waving in his excitement. "Compliments always need a response, Tai. No exceptions. That's like, Life Lessons 0. When I tell you that you look cool, you argue back and say I look way cooler and handsomer than you do. Then I laugh and blush, and we take turns showering each other with praise and adoration."

"When does it end?"

"When one of us dies," he says with a roll of his eyes, and this time, a small chuckle sneaks out of me.

The others wander over, and I sink into the cushions of the other couch. Eric plops down beside me while Dmitri settles on the armrest next to him, their hands clasped in Dmitri's lap. Dante puts his guitar away and gives Theo a quick kiss—and quickly wipes the white residue off his lips—before he sits and pulls Theo in for a snuggle.

My chest pinches just a little more.

It's not that I'm not happy for my brothers.

I am.

The jealousy is just another bittersweet splinter in my side, because it makes me happy to see them paired up and in love, even if it stings. They're incredible guys who have gone through hell and back to be together. Eric's internal battle with his personal demons and Dmitri righting the wrongs of their complicated history. Dante moving past his insecurities while Theo learned to stand up for them both.

They deserve all the happiness in the world.

But …

There's that dirty three letter word.

But it doesn't make it any easier to be singled out.

Literally.

Eric knocks his knee against mine, raising his brow at me in silent question. No matter how much I try to appear unaffected, he has this annoying innate ability to see through my blasé exterior, even if he's never called me out for it.

It's as maddening as it is a relief, because a small part of me is begging to be seen. Begging for someone—anyone—to realize that something is wrong… that the smile I wear is always just a little off-kilter.

Among the group, Eric and I are the closest, and for years, I'd watched the anger simmering underneath his surface. Always there, lying in wait and threatening to explode at the smallest spark.

He was so… mad .

And maybe that's why we'd clicked so well. For all that turmoil churning inside him, building and swirling and desperate to break free, inside me there was…

Nothing.

I could ground him, and when those intense emotions leapt out and licked my skin like flames, he could make me come alive. Stir an ember of hope that would let me believe there was something out there for me.

Something more than this numb detachment.

Something more than just being…

"… cool."

I clear my head with a shake. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Theo gives me another pointed eye roll, leisurely stretching out on the couch and snuggling into Dante as if he's toying with the idea of a nap. "I said , I don't know what you did in a past life to be born so cool, but I'm jealous."

There's that word again.

Cool.

Can't they see it's all a front?

Tai the unflappable… aloof, apathetic, and seemingly unaffected. The guy who doesn't show his emotions—who allows nothing to get under his skin. Who lets nothing get to him.

Serene, put-together, and fucking fake.

Here's the thing.

Everything gets under my skin.

Everything gets to me.

The calm, collected exterior that the world sees? Nothing more than a mask—a finely tuned defense mechanism that has been honed to perfection over the years. Stress I can handle. Turbulence and flaring emotions and explosive anger… those I can deal with.

It's the in-between that I hide from.

The quiet moments when you're alone with your own thoughts that trample you like a pack of savage animals. The peaceful silence when your brain has no distraction from everything you've ever done wrong in your life.

That's when it hits.

The unmistakable, gripping sensation in my gut that screams there has to be more than this. Something greater… something life changing. Something beyond the ordinary.

There just has to be.

Because if I'm here… months away from leaving on an international tour, surrounded by more success and wealth than any of us could have imagined, and still not content?

What does it say about me?

What does it leave?

If this extraordinary life leaves me wanting more, then what the fuck is ever going to make me happy? It's a question I'm intentionally avoiding—one where the answer doesn't want to be found.

It dawns on me that everyone is staring, waiting for me to respond. Bypassing Theo's comments about my coolness , I speak up before they get so absorbed in each other they forget I'm here.

That's not me being emo, although I've gotten quite skilled at that lately.

It happens. Regularly.

They're still watching. "Remember, I'll be out of town for the next two weeks," I say, forcing a smile.

Eric bumps our knees together again, while Dmitri eyeballs me from beyond him. Even with their wedding quickly approaching, Dmitri still has reservations about mine and Eric's relationship, which is frankly hilarious, considering Eric is the last person I would ever imagine myself dating.

Once upon a time, I had wished that could've been different, because at least he makes me feel something.

He is so goddamned explosive, and he needs someone to combust with him. Fabricated or not, he has no use for my particular brand of Zen, and zero patience for this fa?ade of outer peace.

No, he's like my brother, and neither of us has ever wanted more.

Just to mess with Dmitri, I reach over and squeeze Eric's knee, never breaking eye contact with the Russian giant. His eyes narrow and I can't help the laugh that bubbles out of me. I shouldn't poke the bear, but he makes it so easy to get a rise out of him. "Headed on vacation without us?" Eric asks, voice still raspy from singing, returning my attention to him.

"Wedding," I say simply, leaning back in the cushions. "My cousin's getting married at this all-inclusive resort, and they're putting the bridal party up for a week."

"Oooh, groomsman, noice," Theo chirps, perking up. "Nice little fantasy you can play out." He hums a porn-esque bow-chicka-bow-wow while thrusting his hips into the air, and Dante heaves a sigh.

"Bridesmaid, actually," I say with a wink, and his jaw drops as he scrambles to sit up.

"Wait a gosh-darned second… are you wearing a dress and not inviting me along to see?"

I laugh again, easier this time as I gesture at my combat boots and leather jacket. "Sorry to disappoint, but I don't have the legs for it like you do."

"Debatable," Eric teases with an elbow nudge, and Dmitri's nostrils flare in annoyance.

Someone's ass is getting punished later.

"So, what?" Theo sits up and leans forward, resting his chin on his hands as his big blue eyes get wide. "You'll wear a pink shirt or tie to match the ladies?"

"Lilac suit."

Theo looks like he's having heart palpitations as he flops dramatically. "Holy shit, you will be so fucking handsome." When I roll my eyes, he scowls and says, "Whatever. When you're getting railed in a janitor's closet with your lilac suit around your ankles , I want you to remember it was my prediction that put you there."

"Theo, I love you, buddy, but if I'm getting railed in a janitor's closet, you'll be the furthest thing from my mind."

"Rude," he says, narrowing his glare.

"Do you want to get railed in a janitor's closet?" Dante murmurs in his ear, and Theo's eyes grow wide enough to dominate his entire face.

Aaaand, there it is.

That's my cue to wrap this up.

"I tacked on a few extra days to my stay so I can enjoy the peace and quiet without the crazy wedding bullshit. My phone will be off, and I will not be responding to anything that isn't one hundred percent urgent." Theo's mouth opens and I point at him before he can speak. "Fashion advice is not urgent."

"Again, rude," he mutters, rolling his eyes, but settles back into the couch.

Eric frowns beside me, half-turning towards Dmitri. "Should we be putting people up in a resort?"

"We'll do whatever you want, baby," Dmitri says, wrapping his fingers around the nape of Eric's neck and drawing him closer. He's so whipped, it's not even funny. I mean, Eric could ask for clowns and elephants in their wedding, and Dmitri would already be on the way to the circus for ideas.

Their lips meet, and Dmitri's eyes stay locked on mine in an obvious act of possession. He wants me to know he's watching me, just like he wants me to know who Eric belongs to.

Trust me, buddy. We all know.

That combustion I mentioned? This is the fuse being lit.

Standing and crossing my arms, I'm momentarily captivated by the smooth way Dmitri pushes Eric onto the cushions and positions himself on top, my eyes drawn to the drumsticks poking out of his back pocket. Jealousy rears its ugly head, twisting my stomach until bile bites at the back of my throat.

I am happy for them.

I am.

"Right," I say, backing away with an uncomfortable step. "I'll see you guys in a couple of weeks."

"Have fun!" Theo chirps from Dante's side, while Eric throws his hand up in a distracted wave from under Dmitri's bulk. The all-too-familiar rise of panic chokes me as I force my body to work.

Breathe .

Air fills my lungs, and I hold for three… two…

Breathe.

As I release it, the tension leaves my shoulders in fractions and I swallow, pushing past the ball of anxiety that swarms like angry bees inside my gut. No one pays attention as I wave and turn away, coaching myself through my breaths as I hurry towards the door.

"I wish I could be that fucking cool," Theo murmurs from behind me, and I move faster, escaping before they all see straight through my charade.