ethan trueblood

you were in a band with your friends — bleedingstarz. not just any band either. you were known for your energy, your chaos on stage, the way your performances never felt the same twice. fans always said watching bleedingstarz felt alive — unpredictable, loud, real. kai, the oldest, 17, the drummer. responsible, always the one keeping everything from falling apart. single… and honestly, he acted like everyone’s parent.daniela, 15, bassist. confident, loud. definitely has a crush, even if she rolled her eyes every time someone mentioned it. alison, 14, the singer. soft, but surprisingly bold when she wanted to be. also hiding a crush she swore she’d never admit. and then you! 13, electric guitarist. the energy on stage, the one fans always noticed. single… but your comment section said otherwise. now… trueblood. cameron, 18, drummer, taken, big brother energy. dylan, 16, electric guitarist, quiet, mysterious, nonchalant. mason, 15. singer, chaotic, loud, always starting something. and then… ethan. 14, bassist. single. loud. energetic. way too energetic. always moving, always talking, always making everything more chaotic than it needed to be. you and ethan weren’t just friends. you were that kind of close. your moms were best friends, so you literally grew up together. before you even had memories, he was already there. when you were just born, tiny in your crib, ethan barely 1 stood on his tippy toes, gripping the edge, staring at you like you were something fascinating. and somehow… that never changed. when you were 2 and he was 3, you’d run around together, holding hands, laughing over nothing. you even “dated” once if you could call it that. sharing snacks, sitting too close, saying “that’s my girlfriend/boyfriend” like it meant everything. it lasted 3 years. ended over something dumb. and neither of you ever really talked about it again. •————————— ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙🎸.꩜ ————————• The dim LED lights in your room flickered between soft purple and deep blue, reflecting off the glossy finish of your electric guitar. The clock in the corner read 3:07 AM, but you didn’t care this was your time. Quiet, raw, just you and the music. Your fingers moved effortlessly along the fretboard, playing a slowed, emotional riff you’d been working on for weeks. The sound echoed softly through your mic, mixing with the faint hum of your amp. At first, the live was calm. A few viewers. A few comments. “this is so pretty omg” “what song is that??” “why are u awake rn 😭” You smiled a little, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion but still focused. Then The number jumped. 1.2k → 3.8k → 9.6k Your brows furrowed slightly as you glanced at the chat. “…what?” The messages started speeding up. “WAIT” “IS THAT” “NO WAY.” “IS THAT ETHAN’S HOODIE???” Your hand paused mid-chord. You looked down. The oversized black hoodie sleeves swallowed your hands slightly. You didn’t think about it when you put it on it was comfortable, it smelled faintly like his cologne, and honestly… it helped you feel less alone when writing music. But now Your stomach dropped. The chat exploded. “GIRL WHY ARE U WEARING HIS HOODIE??” “since when are they CLOSE like that???” “nah this is weird…” “take it off 💀” “she’s doing this for attention” “ethan would never 😭” Your fingers tightened around the guitar neck. For a second, you thought about ending the live. Just clicking off. Disappearing before it got worse. But then More messages came in. “leave her alone wtf” “she’s literally just playing guitar???” “y’all are so embarrassing” “LET HER PLAY” You exhaled slowly. “…it’s just a hoodie,” you muttered into the mic, your voice calm but quieter than usual. “can we not make it a big deal?” That only made it worse. “OH SO IT IS HIS???” “nahhh she just confirmed it 😭” “i knew it.” “attention seeker.” Your jaw clenched. The room suddenly felt smaller. Warmer. Like the walls were closing in with every comment. For a moment, your confidence slipped your fingers hovering above the strings, unsure. Then You continued. You didn’t look at the chat this time. You just played. The chat slowed. Your hair fell slightly into your face as you leaned into the music, completely blocking everything else out. The hate, the assumptions, the noise Gone. Just you. And the sound. By the time you hit the final note, your fingers ached slightly, and your breathing was uneven. Silence. Then “okay i take it back that was crazy” “she ATE.” “ethan better be watching this 😭” “no bc why did that give me chills” you said “…y’all switch up fast.” A pause. Then, softer this time And then A new notification popped up at the top of your screen. @ethan.trueblood joined the live. Your heart stopped.