#nick folio

Fallon stuck to her word. She stood in front of the mirror fastening one last earring into place, a finishing touch before heading out on her date. She admittedly hadn't sought anyone out, but when a decent-looking guy from her regular coffee shop had asked for her number, Michelle's words echoed in the back of her mind.

You deserve to have a life outside of work.

She was right. Fallon took one last look in the mirror. A black Peter Pan collared top tucked into a leather mini skirt over tights, her favorite Doc Martens, and just enough eyeliner to make her feel put together. Her phone buzzed letting her know the uber had arrived. She grabbed her purse and headed out.

The Black Rose was tucked beneath the street in a renovated brick basement, dimly lit by flickering Edison bulbs suspended from exposed beams overhead. Dark wood booths lined the walls while low alternative rock drifted through hidden speakers, filling the room without overpowering the quiet conversations.

"Fallon?"

She turned with a smile. "Carter, hey."

After a quick hug, they settled into a booth tucked away in the corner. Conversation came easily.

He was funny in an effortless sort of way, asking about her work, laughing when she admitted she only psychoanalyzed people who asked if she psychoanalyzed people. He told stories about growing up in California, terrible roommates, and his failed attempt at learning guitar during lockdown.

"What about you?" he asked. "What do you do when you're not working?"

"I listen to a lot of music."

"What kind?"

"Mostly metal."

His eyebrows lifted.

"No kidding."

"What about you?"

"A lot of the usual stuff. Bring Me The Horizon, Architects... Spiritbox." He shrugged. "Bad Omens has been on repeat lately."

Fallon's stomach tightened.

"I don't know how that guy writes lyrics like that," Carter admitted. "Either he's a genius or he's been through some shit."

She looked down into her drink.

"...Maybe both."

The certainty in her own voice surprised her.

The conversation drifted naturally after that. Restaurants. Movies. Places they wanted to travel once the world finally felt normal again. Carter was kind, funny, easy to talk to. Everything she should have wanted.

Yet every so often she'd catch herself measuring the conversation against Tuesday afternoons. Waiting for a question that made her think. Waiting for someone to notice the little things. Waiting for ordinary conversation to become something more. It never did. The realization settled over her slowly. She wasn't comparing Carter to some impossible standard.

She was comparing him to Noah. The thought stole the air from her lungs.

Oh.

Her fingers tightened around the condensation gathering on her glass.

No.

By the time the check came, nearly two hours had slipped by.

"I had a really nice time tonight," Carter said as they reached his car.

"I did too." She smiled. It wasn't entirely a lie.

"So..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you want to do this again sometime?"

Fallon's smile softened. She wished she could say yes.

"I don't think that would be fair."

Understanding crossed his face almost immediately. "Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"No," he said with an easy smile. "Don't be."

A knot tightened in her chest. He deserved someone whose heart was actually in it.

"Can I at least drive you home?"

She shook her head gently. "That's okay. I'll grab an Uber."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She smiled apologetically. "But thank you."

He nodded.

"Well... I'm glad I asked for your number."

She laughed softly.

"I'm glad you did too."

After one last awkward wave, Carter climbed into his car. Fallon watched the taillights disappear down the street before pulling out her phone to request an Uber.

As she waited beneath the glow of a streetlamp, she let out a slow breath. She'd walked into the evening hoping to prove to herself that she was ready to move on. Instead, all she'd managed to prove was that she couldn't stop looking for Noah in everyone else. She paced the sidewalk, her thoughts pulling in opposite directions. 

One part of her insisted she was overthinking it. That she was lonely, isolated after two years of a pandemic, and reading far too much into a therapeutic relationship.

The other part knew better.

She opened her contacts and scrolled, looking for Talia’s name. Her finger hovered over the call button, then closed out the app.

________________________

A knock on the front door and the echoes of Harper barking pulled Noah from his room. He quickly stepped down the stairs and opened the door for Folio and Ruffilo, illuminated by the porch lights.

Folio spread his arms wide. “Happy single release day!”

Despite Noah’s nerves, a smile tugged at his mouth. “It sure is the death of my peace of mind,” Noah quipped.

Months of writing, recording, rerecording, filming, and waiting had finally led to this. The first single from the new album would be out in just a few hours. For the first time in nearly two years, it felt like the band was truly moving forward again. Both a relief, and horrifying, simultaneously. 

The clock ticked painfully slow towards midnight. Nobody seemed capable of focusing on anything for more than a few minutes.

Noah picked up his guitar, played absentmindedly for a minute before setting it back down. Jolly opened Twitter only to close it again moments later. Ruffilo attempted to watch TV, though nobody could've said what had been playing. Waiting was always the hardest part.

Finally, a chorus of notifications rang out from 4 phones in the room.

Sumerian Chat: It’s live.

Folio was already pulling Spotify up on his laptop while Jolly searched YouTube. Noah opened Instagram, watching as Sumerian's post appeared at the top of his feed.

BAD OMENS – THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND Available everywhere.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke. They simply watched. Notifications flooded in faster than any of them could read them. Comments, mentions, texts from friends and family, fans posting screenshots of the song already playing through their speakers.

Michael laughed.

"Dude..."

"What?" Noah looked over.

"Somebody already uploaded a guitar cover." He said, flipping his phone around to show Noah.

"It's been out for five minutes."

Jolly leaned over Michael's shoulder.

"Holy shit."

"It's climbing."

Noah looked down at his own phone. Hundreds of comments had already poured in beneath the announcement.

Worth every second of the wait.

I've listened to it six times already.

This was exactly what I needed today.

He felt something loosen in his chest. The numbers were exciting, but the comments mattered more. For the first time since the world had shut down, it felt like people were listening again.

His phone rang.

Management.

Noah answered, putting the call on speaker. 

"Boys," their manager's voice came through, unable to hide the excitement, "congratulations."

The room fell silent.

"The response has been incredible. Editorial playlists are already picking it up, engagement's through the roof, and the label couldn't be happier."

Michael pumped a fist into the air.

Jolly slapped Noah on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble.

"You deserve this," their manager continued. "Seriously. Enjoy it."

The call ended.

Ruffilo laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as he refreshed the page yet again.

"I swear the numbers are changing every time I look."

"Because they are," Folio said, barely taking his eyes off his screen. "Keep refreshing."

“You know what this means guys?” Orie called out, “BIIG budget for the music video.”

Noah couldn't stop smiling. It felt strange after so many months of uncertainty. So much of the last two years had been spent wondering if people would still be there when the band came back. Wondering if they had waited too long.

Tonight, the answer sat right in front of him. The song was not theirs anymore, it belonged to the world.

Noah stayed up late into the night, reeling from the adrenaline. He stared up at the ceiling after forcing himself to shut off his phone. He thought about music video concepts. Tour visuals. The next single. He bounced back to his session with Fallon earlier in the day, how she had insisted he let himself enjoy the release before diving into the next work thing.

For just a second, another thought slipped in.

Fallon would probably love this one.

He pictured her exactly as she always appeared on Tuesday afternoons, curled into the corner of her office chair with a mug balanced in one hand, listening more intently than anyone he'd ever met. She'd probably dissect every lyric, point out some tiny production choice no one else noticed. He imagined how she would feel as his voice, singing those words, snaked through her ears.The image warmed him in a way he couldn't quite explain. 

Exhaustion finally settled over him and he drifted to sleep.

When morning rolled around, Noah tried to bide time between his eager checks of streaming analytics, comments, and posts about the single. He sat at the kitchen island with his band and roommates, all of them with their noses buried in their phones.

"So..." Folio finally broke the silence, looking up from his screen. “Are we celebrating or what?"

Jolly didn't even glance up.

"I've been waiting for someone else to say it."

Folio grinned, "I was thinkin’ The Amp, Friday night."

"I'm in." Ruffilo nodded immediately.

Jesse pointed across the island at Noah, "No excuses either. You're coming."

"As if I'd miss my own celebration." Noah laughed.

"Good," Jolly smirked. "Because I'm planning on getting irresponsibly happy."

Folio raised his coffee mug, "It's settled. The Amp. Friday night."

________________________

The girls' group chat lit up before Fallon had even made it through her apartment door.

Michelle: WELL??? Christina: We need details immediately. Jenn:Was he cute??

Fallon smiled despite herself, dropping onto the couch before typing back.

Fallon: Cute. Funny. Nice.

Three dots appeared almost instantly.

Michelle: And?

Fallon hesitated.

Fallon: I said no to a second date.

Her phone immediately began buzzing, a Facetime in the groupchat lighting up the screen.

"Hi."

"So..." Michelle began. "What happened?"

Fallon leaned back against the couch. "Nothing."

Michelle snorted, "That's never a good answer."

"He was great."

"...But?"

"But..." Fallon sighed. "There just wasn't... anything."

She hated how vague she sounded, because she wasn't entirely sure what "anything" even meant anymore. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. "I just didn't feel what I thought I was supposed to."

There was a brief pause. Finally Christina spoke up through the speakerphone.

"Forget dates."

Jenn laughed.

"Seriously."

Michelle snapped her fingers.

"Exactly. No more blind dates. No more coffee shop guys. We are taking our therapist friend out."

"Where?" Jenn asked.

Michelle didn't hesitate.

"The Amp."

Christina laughed.

"Oh, absolutely."

"Friday night," Michelle declared. "Live music, drinks, and absolutely zero emotional breakthroughs."

Fallon couldn't help but laugh.

"You realize I'm a therapist."

"Exactly," Michelle grinned. "You deserve one night where you don't have to analyze anything."

Fallon smiled to herself, shaking her head.

"...Fine."

"That's my girl. The Amp. Friday Night.”

________________________

Friday night arrived faster than Fallon expected.

By the time the four of them squeezed into the backseat of the Uber, they'd already polished off a bottle of cheap prosecco while getting ready at Christina's apartment. Jenn had appointed herself the night's DJ, her phone connected to the car speakers as she dramatically belted every word to Paramore's Misery Business. Michelle and Christina joined in without hesitation, all three of them wildly off-key.

Fallon laughed so hard her stomach hurt.

"Oh my God," she managed between breaths, "the driver is absolutely giving us one star."

The driver caught her eyes in the rearview mirror and grinned.

"I've heard worse."

That only made them laugh harder.

By the time they pulled up outside The Amp, the sidewalks were alive with people spilling out onto the street. A neon sign buzzed overhead, casting red light across the line that wrapped halfway around the building. Somewhere inside, the muffled thump of bass vibrated through the brick walls.

"This is exactly what you needed," Michelle declared as she linked her arm through Fallon's.

Fresh air. Good music. No expectations.

Fallon smiled. Maybe it was.

The line moved quicker than she'd expected. IDs were checked, wrists were stamped, and within minutes they stepped through the heavy black doors into a wash of amber lights and distorted guitar riffs.

The place buzzed with energy. Conversation overlapped from every direction while bartenders darted back and forth. Flashes of colored stage lights swept over the crowd. On the stage in the back, a local band was finishing the last song of their set.

"I'll get the first round," Christina called over the music.

"I'll help," Jenn shouted, already following the group toward the bar.

Fallon turned to them, gesturing across the bar, "I'm running to the bathroom."

The restroom line snaked halfway down the hallway, giving Fallon just enough time to scroll absentmindedly through her phone before slipping it back into her purse. A few minutes later she found herself standing in front of the mirror, dabbing at the corner of her lipstick with her fingertip to check that everything was in place.

She studied her reflection for a second.

The eyeliner. The leather jacket. The silver jewelry catching the fluorescent lights. Satisfied, she tucked her phone away and made her way back through the crowd, weaving between clusters of people with drinks in hand. She spotted her friends.

All three were gathered around one of the high-top tables, laughing with a group of heavily tattooed guys she'd never seen before.

Fallon slowed. For a moment she simply watched, trying to figure out what she'd walked back into.

She made her way over to the table and squeezed between her friends. Jenn quickly turned towards her.

“There she is, this is Fallon!” 

Fallon looked towards the man and gave a small wave. He had shoulder length hair, sliver streaks framing his face. He had a certain gentleness to his appearance, yet adorned a metal band tee and was covered in ink. Exactly the type she’d go for. 

“Hey, I’m Davis. I’ve heard so much about you in the last,” he glanced at his watch, “three minutes.”

Fallon laughed, “nice to meet you Davis, I’m Fallon.”

Davis gestured to the men around him. "This is Nick, Jesse, Orie, also Nick..." He scanned the crowd. "...Where's?"

His face brightened as he looked over her shoulder.

"Oh. There he is."

Fallon turned.

A familiar figure was weaving through the crowd toward the table, drink in hand.

Black shirt. Freshly cut hair. Tattooed forearms disappearing beneath rolled sleeves. He looked up.

Her stomach sank straight to the floor, the color draining from her face. A wave of panic washed over her.

He weaved his way through clusters of people and came to a stop in front of her. Fallon’s lips parted slightly. His steps faltered almost imperceptibly. Then, just as quickly, recognition gave way to composure. His eyes narrowed and a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

He extended a hand towards her.

“Hi, I’m Noah. Nice to meet you.”

Fallon stared at his outstretched hand for half a second too long. Then understanding clicked. She slipped her hand into his.

“My name’s Fallon.”

Author’s Note: THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GO DOOOOOWNN. Please enjoy this a day early because I seriously cannot wait for you guys to read it!!! Hopefully chapter 6 is out Saturday because I'm starting it tonight (no promises) XOXO Lila