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Devon's brows rise at that, but Arya’s the one who answers as she pulls me into a hug. “We should do something. Like, show people we won't tolerate hate speech.”

“Agreed,” Taylor says, leading our group into the campsite toward the RV. “I'm sick and tired of people harassing my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I get enough of that from you,” Huck grins, grabbing Tay on the ass before jumping into some boring conversation with Logan about our sales revenue for this trip.

Fires crackle low around us, glowing embers floating into the dark sky. Sounds of laughter and music echo from the other side of the campground. I don’t feel like laughing. Not after tonight. Not after that shit.

My hands are still curled into fists, nails biting into my palms, but I can’t unclench them. The words that asshole spat at us keep looping in my head. Over and over, like a goddamn broken record. I mean, I knew how bad it was for Huck and Tay in high school, but I guess I never really knew until now. I don’t like it. I want to hit shit.

Devon walks quietly beside me, rolling a half-smoked joint between his fingers as we make it to our RV. He flicks his lighter once, twice, then stops, glancing at me sideways. “You alright, hot shot?”

His voice is low, softer than usual, and fuck, I hate that he’s looking at me like that.

“I’m fine,” I scoff, parking my bike next to Taylor’s at the workbench so we can do our post-show tune-up.

Dev hums, leaning a hip against the bench as he stretches his legs out. “Uh-huh. Truth this time?”

Letting out a slow breath, I unlock my toolbox, sorting through the mess of metal. “I don’t know, man. Just tired of all the hate, I guess.”

Tay grabs a socket wrench from my hands, stepping toward his two-stroke. “It’s bullshit,” he mutters. “All of it.”

I don’t answer, aimlessly digging through the box like I know what I need.

Devon shifts closer, the heat of his body warming my side. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah. Maybe in a bit.”

He nods, setting the joint in between his lips before lighting it. “Cool. Find me later when you’re ready, yeah?”

Something about the way he says it makes my throat tighten. Like, he actually fucking means it. He’d sit here all night if I needed him to.

But I don't.

“Yeah,” I say absently. “Sure.”

Nodding again, Dev bumps my shoulder before wandering off to do whatever he does at night. Walk around in the dark and stare at the stars or some shit.

Salem is the only one still silent, standing near the cold fire pit with a pinched expression. Throwing down my tools, I come up behind her, setting my chin on her shoulder. “Why so quiet, chica? What's going on?”

“Just thinking about what Arya said,” she answers slowly, rolling her lips in concentration. “About doing something to show everyone where we stand. That we won't be bullied.”

“Yeah? Like what? You think we can make some kind of statement or something?”

Her grey eyes snap to mine, widening as she grabs my arm. “Oh my god. That's it. Christian, you and Arya are geniuses.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah!” She studies Taylor and Devon’s retreating form before turning back to me, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Tomorrow is our last show in Ohio, and since Pride month just started… I know exactly what we're going to do.”

Chapter Ten

Devon

The night is quiet, the kind of silence that feels too big, too empty. It stretches out around me, swallowing everything whole.

I shove my hands into my hoodie pocket, tilting my head back to stare at the constellations, trying to focus on the vastness of the sky. My stomach knots tighter with every passing minute.

I told Christian to come talk. “Find me later when you’re ready.” Simple words. A simple request.