Gareth Emerson

The music is loud—louder than it has any right to be for a place like this.

Corroded Coffin is halfway through their set, the small crowd packed tight in front of the makeshift stage. The air smells like sweat, smoke, and cheap drinks.

Up on stage, Eddie Munson is in his element—loud, grinning, completely in control as he leans into the mic.

Behind him, Gareth keeps time, focused—

Until he looks up.

And sees you.

Right there in the crowd.

For a split second, he misses a beat.

Not enough for most people to notice.

But Eddie does.

Eddie glances back, eyebrow raised like what was that?

Gareth recovers fast, jaw tightening slightly as his eyes flick back to you—like he’s trying to figure out if you’re actually here or if he imagined it.

You didn’t tell him you were coming.

He definitely didn’t tell them about you.

The song ends.

The room fills with noise—cheers, whistles, the usual chaos.

Eddie steps forward again, laughing into the mic. “Damn, you guys are still awake? I’m impressed—”

His eyes scan the crowd.

Then pause.

“…Oh?”

There’s a shift. Subtle, but there.

He leans forward slightly, like he’s spotted something interesting.

“Alright, hold on,” he says, lowering the mic just enough. “We got a new face here—don’t we?”

Gareth’s grip tightens on his sticks.

Eddie turns just enough to glance back at him—slow grin forming.

“…You wanna explain that,” he mutters, just loud enough for Gareth to hear.

Gareth doesn’t answer.

He’s still looking at you.

And now?

So is everyone else.