[table] [row] [sup][h3][b][color=2e2c2c] ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ [right]▅▅▅▅▅▅[/right] [/color][/b][/h3][/sup] [/row][row] [cell] [center][color=EB38E5]___________________________________[/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/P0z1vU6.jpeg[/img] [color=EB38E5]♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪[/color] [sub][color=gray]𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑[/color] [color=silver]Townspeople, Husker, Liam[/color][/sub] [color=EB38E5]♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪[/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/x94QEFY.jpeg[/img] [color=EB38E5]♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪[/color] [sub][color=gray]𝙻𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗[/color] [color=silver][sub]Husker's, Main Street, Appalachian State, Boone[/sub][/color][/sub] [color=EB38E5]♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪[/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/3AoHFOt.jpeg[/img] [color=EB38E5]___________________________________[/color][/center] [/cell][cell] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/iNP0meH.png[/img] [color=EB38E5]♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪[/color][/center] [indent][sup][color=silver] Rowan didn’t wait long once the plan settled into something real. The house had hit that point where the heat stopped feeling temporary and started feeling like a decision, like staying meant choosing it. Callie was still moving through her routines, steady and purposeful, but Rowan could already feel the walls pressing in just a little too close. [color=EB38E5]“I’m gonna head down,”[/color] he called, voice carrying easy through the house as he tugged his shirt straight and stepped into his sneakers. [color=EB38E5]“Beat the rush before half the town gets the same idea.”[/color] The screen door creaked open and shut behind him, and just like that, the heat shifted from contained to everywhere. Pines Holler in summer didn’t care whether you were inside or out, it settled on you all the same. The walk to the bar was short, familiar. Gravel crunching underfoot, cicadas screaming overhead, the low mechanical hum of generators growing louder the closer he got. People were already out, clustered in yards, leaning against trucks, calling across the street like the outage had peeled something back in the town. Rowan nodded where it felt right. Didn’t stop. The bar hit him all at once when he stepped inside, cooler air, not by much, but enough to matter. The smell of grease and cold beer, the sound of voices layered over one another, the steady thrum of Husker’s generators working overtime to keep the place alive. [color=gray]“Look who decided to join civilization,”[/color] someone called from the far end. Rowan lifted a hand in vague acknowledgment, already making his way to the bar. One of the waitresses caught sight of him quick. [color=gray]“What’re you having?”[/color] [color=EB38E5]“Two burgers,”[/color] Rowan said, leaning his forearms against the counter. [color=EB38E5]“One now, one for later. You know how she likes it?”[/color] The Waitress smirked and snorted. [color=gray]“Yeah, I do.”[/color] Rowan shifted his weight, tapping his fingers lightly against the wood, an idle rhythm that blended into the noise around him. He didn’t mean to listen, but in a place like this, you didn’t have much choice. [color=gray]“…power company’s saying transformer blew—”[/color] [color=gray]“…nah, it’s more than that, heard it’s down the line near—”[/color] [color=gray]“…could be tonight, could be tomorrow—”[/color] [color=gray]“…they said days, man. Days.”[/color] Rowan’s tapping faltered for half a beat. Days. He stared down at the bar top like it might rearrange the words into something better. [color=gray]“Hell of a time for it,”[/color] someone muttered nearby. [color=gray]“Middle of summer, tourists rolling in, and now this.”[/color] Another voice, lower, sharper, [color=gray]“Wouldn’t be happening if folks hadn’t been digging where they shouldn’t.”[/color] That earned a few grunts. A few looks. Rowan didn’t add to it. Just filed it away, that quiet tension threading under everything. Same as always lately. Same as it had been building. The waitress slid a plate in front of him, breaking the moment clean in half. [color=gray]“Eat,”[/color] She said. Rowan didn’t argue. He barely got halfway through before the sound outside shifted, engines, multiple, not the usual passing traffic. Conversations near the windows dipped, then tilted, curiosity pulling attention outward like a tide. Rowan glanced over his shoulder. Black SUVs. Clean. Out of place. Doors opened in near unison, men stepping out in neat lines that didn’t belong to Pines Holler. Not in the way they moved. Not in the way they looked around, measured, assessing. [color=gray]“Who the hell—”[/color] someone started. [color=gray]“Mercer’s people,”[/color] another answered, quieter. That name moved through the room faster than the heat ever could. Rowan turned more fully now, plate forgotten for a second as he watched them start unloading equipment from the back. Generators. New ones. Still boxed, still clean, still smelling like money. And then they started handing them out. Not selling. Not bargaining. Just giving. The reaction was immediate. Suspicion tangled with relief, gratitude bumping shoulders with something sharper, harder to name. People stepped forward anyway. Of course they did. You don’t turn down power when your house feels like an oven. Rowan’s jaw shifted slightly. [color=gray]“Since when does anyone give this town anything for free? Aside from the Doc.”[/color] someone near him muttered. No one answered. Because everyone was thinking the same thing. Nothing here came without a hook, there were exceptions but they were known. Mercer wasn't. Rowan looked back down at his plate, appetite dulled at the edges now, and let out a slow breath through his nose. The generator hum outside grew louder as more were hauled off, piece by piece, into the town. Days. No power. Gideon’s people stepping in like they’d been waiting for it. His fingers started tapping again, faster now. Not nervous, thinking. Four o’clock. No power meant no session. No session meant losing the slot. Losing the slot meant— No. He pushed the plate away, decision settling in sharp and sudden. Not happening. Rowan stood. [color=EB38E5]“I'll pay now for mine and hers,”[/color] Rowan said, already moving to get his wallet. Afterwards he made his way outside. The noise of the bar followed him out, swallowed quickly by the heavy air and the low murmuring of voices distributing generators up and down the street. He didn’t stop walking until he hit the edge of the lot, pulling his phone out again, angling it like that might coax more signal out of nothing. Boone wasn’t that far. App’s band rooms would have power. They always did. And Liam. Rowan scrubbed a hand over his face, exhaling once, sharp. Yeah. That’d work. He glanced back toward town, toward Miners Street, toward the house, toward Callie, and then down at the phone in his hand. Plan first. Then everything else. Rowan headed for his truck, already dialing in the next move. He wasn’t missing that session. Not for this. The drive out of Pines Holler always felt like stepping through something invisible. One minute it was cracked pavement, sagging porches, and heat hanging low over everything like a held breath. The next, the road opened up, winding through stretches of green that felt too wide, too alive to belong to the same place. Rowan drove with the windows down. The air didn’t cool much, but it moved, and that was enough. Boone rose up gradually, familiar but different. Cleaner. Busier. Alive in a way Pines Holler pretended not to notice. He parked near campus, cutting the engine and sitting there for a second longer than necessary, hands resting on the wheel. This part always felt… strange. Like he’d crossed into a version of life that could have been his, if things had tilted just slightly differently. Students passed by in clusters, laughing, talking, moving with purpose. No one here looked like they were waiting for something to break. Rowan exhaled, grabbed his sticks from the passenger seat, and stepped out. Liam was already there. Leaning against the side entrance like he belonged to the building, which, Rowan supposed, he kind of did. Blonde hair catching the late afternoon light, green eyes sharp and easy all at once. There was always something about the way he looked at people, like he saw them clearly and decided they were worth his time anyway. It did something to Rowan he tried not to think about too hard. [color=gray]“Cutting it close,”[/color] Liam said, a grin tugging at his mouth. [color=EB38E5]“Power’s out back home, like I mentioned when I had service,”[/color] Rowan shot back, lifting his sticks slightly like that explained everything. [color=EB38E5]“Figured I’d borrow a real setup before I lost the day and my session entirely.”[/color] Liam’s gaze flicked to the sticks, then back to Rowan’s face. [color=gray]“Good call.”[/color] No questions. No skepticism. Just that easy acceptance that made Rowan’s chest feel a little tighter than it should. [color=gray]“C’mon,”[/color] Liam added, pushing off the wall and holding the door open. [color=gray]“Room’s empty for a couple hours.”[/color] The band room smelled like wood, metal, and faintly like instrument oils. It was better than his house's setup. Cleaner. More space. A kit that actually responded the way it was supposed to. Rowan settled behind it like he’d been holding his breath all day. Then he let it out. The first strike of the snare cracked through the room, sharp, clean, right. It echoed back at him, full-bodied, real in a way that made something in his chest loosen all at once. There it was. He didn’t need to think after that. His hands moved on instinct, rhythm spilling out faster than he could second-guess it. Kick, snare, hi-hat, then building, layering, pushing. The sound filled the room, climbed the walls, settled into his bones. Everything else fell away. No heat. No outage. No Pines Holler closing in around itself. Just timing. Precision. Feeling. Just him. He lost track of time somewhere between one pattern and the next, shifting from tight control into something looser, more expressive. Letting the rhythm bend where it needed to. Letting it hit harder when it mattered. When he finally stopped, the silence that followed rang louder than the drums had. Rowan leaned forward slightly, catching his breath, a grin pulling at his face before he could stop it. [color=EB38E5]“God,”[/color] he muttered, half to himself. [color=EB38E5]“I needed that.”[/color] From across the room, Liam clapped once, slow and deliberate. The expression of awe on his face making Rowan's stomach do a backflip. [color=gray]“Yeah,”[/color] he said. [color=gray]“You really did.”[/color] Rowan glanced up, meeting his eyes for just a second too long before looking away, reaching for a towel he didn’t actually need. [color=gray]“You ever think about transferring?”[/color] Liam asked, casual but his eyes seemed searching, hoping. Rowan huffed a quiet laugh. [color=EB38E5]“You ever think about Pines Holler?”[/color] Liam’s grin tilted. [color=gray]“Fair.”[/color] The moment passed, but it lingered anyway. The drive back felt quieter. Not because the world had changed but because Rowan had. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the road as he wound back down the mountain. The air had cooled just enough to take the edge off the day, and for once, the silence in the car didn’t feel heavy. His hands rested easy on the wheel. His mind, less so. Boone stayed with him longer than it should have. The campus. The room. The way Liam had looked at him like none of this was out of reach. Like it could be normal. Rowan swallowed, eyes flicking to the road ahead as Pines Holler slowly came back into view, familiar, worn, stubborn. Home. The word felt complicated. He drummed his fingers lightly against the steering wheel, softer this time. Thoughtful. Four o’clock had come and gone but the session hadn’t been lost. Not really. Still… the question lingered. How many times could he keep borrowing something like that before he had to decide if he wanted it for real? The truck rolled back onto Miners Street, gravel crunching softly under the tires. Lights were still out. Generators still humming. Nothing had changed. Rowan cut the engine and sat there for a second, listening. Then he grabbed his sticks, pushed the door open, and stepped back into Pines Holler. [/color][/sup][/indent][/cell] [/row] [/table]