Alex Van Halen - REQ

The room’s mostly empty now.

Equipment’s half-packed, lights dimmed, the buzz of the show still lingering in the air—but the crowd’s gone.

Eddie’s not.

You can still hear him somewhere down the hall, laughing with someone, soaking in what’s left of the attention.

Alex doesn’t look in that direction.

He’s sitting on one of the amps, drumsticks turning slowly between his fingers, like he’s got too much on his mind to stay still.

“…can I ask you something?” he says finally.

His voice is quieter than usual. Not hesitant—just… different.

He doesn’t wait for a real answer.

“Why’s it always him?”

The question lands heavier than it sounds.

Alex lets out a short breath, glancing up at you for a second before looking away again.

“I mean, I get it,” he adds quickly, a humorless sort of shrug following. “He’s the one people see first. Always has been.”

Another pause.

His grip tightens slightly on the drumsticks.

“But you—”

He stops himself, jaw shifting like he’s choosing his words too carefully now.

“…you’re not supposed to be like everyone else.”

That one’s quieter.

More honest.

Alex finally looks at you again, something raw sitting just under the surface.

“So what is it?” he asks. “What’s he got that I don’t?”