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I must not love him anymore, he reminded himself, suppressing his emotions and adopting the most expressionless face he could muster. But Tristan’s hand touched his neck, his cheek, then his chin. Like a sculptor, he traced his face, and Leaf couldn’t help but lean into the touch. Tristan’s warmth flowed into him, bringing him back to life. Leaf’s gaze wandered over Tristan’s pronounced Adam’s apple, full, shapely lips, straight nose, and finally settled on his deep black eyes.

At that moment, Tristan enveloped him in his arms and held him tightly. His body warmth and closeness pulled Leaf out of the icy stiffness, even having a similar effect as opium. He gently placed his hands on his friend, gliding over his slender body, his hips, his shoulder blades, and pulled him close. The feeling of security stole his breath away.

He stroked Tristan’s head and breathed in his wonderful scent. A tingling sensation ran through his body as Tristan buried his face into his neck, reciprocating the gesture. Despite all his resolutions, Leaf allowed Tristan to place a hand on his cheek and kiss him tenderly on the mouth. Leaf felt a spark between their lips, and his breath caught.

He wanted to hold onto the moment and hugged Tristan tightly, absorbing his warmth and breath, craving much more that he couldn’t have; that he had forbidden himself—and mourned ever since.

When Tristan backed away, it felt like someone was ripping his heart out. Leaf gasped for air, but it was no use. Gradually, his strength left him, blood rushed to his legs, and his face turned chalk white. Overwhelmed by dizziness again, he staggered slightly to the side. Tristan held him firmly, his expression filled with concern. That alone tore Leaf’s heart apart once again. Perhaps it was for the best. Leaf believed he deserved every punishment for his actions. Tristan knew nothing of his wrongdoing. Until Leaf had resolved things with Diego, it was better that Tristan remained unaware for now.

Tears welled up in Tristan’s eyes, and Leaf knew the guy was looking straight into his soul. “I’m glad you’re doing well … considering the circumstances,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

His calm way of speaking hadn’t lost any of its magic. Whenever Tristan spoke, it sounded like he was reciting a poem. Leaf nodded weakly. “Me too.”

“Hey, Leaf,” Carol said, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s so good to see you.” With open arms, she gestured to the table.

While the others were already sitting down, José approached him and greeted him with a brief hug. Leaf was secretly glad to see his longtime friend from childhood. He was, in a way, his backup – not just on stage. José walked around the table and took a seat next to Andrej. Leaf’s gaze wandered to Carol, who was waiting for him.

He didn’t notice any wrinkles—she was only in her mid-thirties, but appeared genuinely tired, with dark circles under her eyes and her hair tied in a messy bun. That could explain why she buttoned up her blazer, attempting appear stern as usual but wasn’t quite successful. Unlike him, Carol always focused on the future, despite being weighed down by the past at the moment. As the band reunited at one table, she visibly relaxed.

Leaf took a deep breath and collected himself. Not that he wasn’t ready for this meeting; he just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. He sat beside Tristan, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how pale and gaunt the singer looked.

Tristan had clearly lost weight and exhaustion clouded his gaze, yet Leaf could sense the storm raging in his friend. Like a demon, grief clung onto Tristan’s shoulder, holding him captive.

Because of me.

Remorsefully, Leaf hung his head, letting the loose strands of hair fall into his forehead. He rested his elbows on the armrests and hid his face behind folded hands.

The waitress set down the beers. Carol immediately took one, raised her glass with mock solemnity and said, “You wouldn’t believe how glad I am that you’re here. And I’ll feel even better when you’re on stage on Saturday. All five hundred tickets have been sold. The Whisky a Go Go is going to explode! People know this will be the last concert on such a small stage for the time being. And as bad as your publicity has been for the past three weeks, they’re eager to see you live. Can you pull it together by Saturday? Do you have what it takes?”

Andrej exuded confidence as he spoke for everyone. “Of course.”

“Tris?” Carol asked suspiciously.

All eyes turned to the singer. Tristan absentmindedly raised his head, saying nothing.

“You had … well … an accident.” Carol chose her words carefully.

Andrej let out a contemptuous snort. “Nonsense.”

“Are you fit?” Carol pressed, her gaze fixed on Tristan. “Can you stand on stage for two hours?”

He nodded, nervously wringing his hands.

“That’s good,” Carol said, taking a sip of beer before continuing. “Very good indeed. You have an interview scheduled with Paradise Rock on Wednesday. Andrej and Tristan, you’re in charge of that.”

“Why me?” Tristan asked softly. “Can’t José …”

“No, they want you. Andrej will back you up.”

Leaf wasn’t surprised that Tristan wanted to skip the interview. Though gifted as a songwriter and poet, facing reporters’ questions was always challenging for him. While he hadn’t rebelled against it before, given the events of the last three weeks, it was understandable that he wasn’t in the mood for an interview.

Leaf had never been talkative. It showed in the first few interviews, after which Carol hadn’t forced him further. He would have found it easy to respond to all the questions in sign language, but with words … He never seemed to find the right ones.

He felt a tug in his hand, the urge to place it on Tristan’s leg overwhelming him. His whole body yearned for Tristan; holding him earlier wasn’t enough. He wanted more, needed more.

Screw the resolutions!

Just before giving in to his desire, he reached for his glass and took a sip of beer.