Chapter 3

Drew’s P.O.V

I stayed on the balcony a little longer while D.D helped Audrey set the table. Through the glass door, I watched her—lost in my own thoughts.

She’d sparked something the moment I saw her in the elevator a few days ago. And that something only got stronger when she showed up at my apartment. My drunk-ass brain took a while to connect the dots, but eventually, it hit me: I know her. Or… I knew her.

She’s changed, yeah—but somehow still looks the same. Of course she’s changed. We’ve grown up. It’s been years. She was, what, eighteen when I last talked to her?

Does she not recognize me? Maybe she doesn’t even remember me.

Shit. I’m an asshole. I pushed her away for no reason. Or maybe for some dumb reason I don’t even remember anymore. We could’ve been good friends.

I finally stepped inside, closing the balcony door behind me. The scent of dinner filled the room—warm, cozy, familiar. I looked around her place again, taking it in with clearer eyes. The layout wasn’t all that different from mine, but the contrast was staggering. Where mine was a mess of empty bottles, crumpled clothes, and chaos I barely lived in, hers was neat and intentional. Comfortable. Lived in. It felt like a home.

D.D, of course, was in full flirt mode.

I rolled my eyes. “D.D, stop being an asshole. She’s feeding you and you’re imposing.”

It came out sharper than I meant. And that definitely got a reaction from them. D.D's mouth hanging in disbelief, because this was way out of character for me and he has been knowing me for years. And Audrey, she had a raised eyebrow and half a cocky grin that vanished to quickly. Amused, trying to mask it. But i saw it.

“Dude, don’t kill my chances,” he groaned. “You’re a married man. I wanna settle too.”

Audrey raised an eyebrow. Again. This time no amusement behind it. At the words married man, she glanced at me—just for a second, like the phrase unsettled her. If she only knew...

Then she turned back to D.D. “Look, Damien, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m gonna rip the Band-Aid off quick. I’ve been trying to let you down gently, but—yeah. I’m not interested like that. Friends? That, I’d like very much.”

Ouch. That had to sting. I couldn’t help myself—I laughed. Hard. The look on D.D’s face was priceless.

A sharp smack to my arm made me stop.

“Don’t make fun of him, Andrew. That’s not nice,” she scolded.

Wait—Andrew? I never told her that.

“She just mom-handled you in full Anny style,” D.D snorted, clearly delighted seeing someone other than my mom doing that.

“Sorry,” she said, a little sheepishly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have slapped you. I already felt bad saying that to Damien, and you weren’t helping.”

“Don’t say sorry if you don’t mean it, then,” I teased.

Smack—she hit my other arm. Then moved on like that didn't happen, taking plates and forks to the table. We joined her silently, D.D throwing in a comment if we should say a grace before eating. The mood seemed to lighten a little.

“Do you like music, Audrey?” D.D asked quickly, changing the subject as we sat down for dinner.

“What kind of question is that? Who doesn’t like music?” she replied, clearly amused.

“Okay, okay, fair—what kind of music? Any favorite songs?”

“Why?” she smirked. “You gonna sing it for me?”. The deer caught in the headlights look on his face sure drew a reaction from me. Something in between a snort and chocked laugh. He looked awfully, pleasantly tortured.

But this meant something else as well. She was finally loosening up. Getting comfortable around us.

“Yeah, I’d love to hear it too, D.D. Maybe an opera,” I grinned, fully aware of his vocal limitations. God, I hoped she picked something completely out of his range.

“Um… depends on the song,” he recovered, forcing a casual shrug.

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “there’s this old song I still listen to sometimes. Some old band from back in the day. Blasphemy, it’s called.”

She even winked at me when she said it, lacing the word Blasphemy with so much "casual innocence" that I swear my brain short-circuited.

Oh no. Oh hell no! She knows. She absolutely knows who we are.

D.D looked just as stunned as I felt. Audrey tilted her head, watching him expectantly while he opened and closed his mouth like a confused goldfish.

“You… tricked us,” he finally managed. Lamest response possible.

“I tricked you how?” she laughed. “C’mon. What did you expect? For me to throw myself at you? What am I? A teenage fangirl?”

“That would’ve been nice,” I muttered before I could stop myself—and immediately regretted it when I met her glare.

“I’m kidding!” I held my hands up in surrender and shot a helpless look at D.D.

“So, you listen to The Disciples,” he jumped in, saving me.

“Listened,” she corrected. “I lost you guys a while back, to be honest. I haven’t kept up with your recent stuff. You had long hair back then." She threw this semi-nostalgic look at me, but recovered quickly. "And Damien—” she turned to him— “sorry, but I left off right around the time Sara was still in the band.” She referred to our old drummer.

D.D clutched his chest dramatically, like she’d stabbed him. I did the math in my head—and yep. That lines up. She stopped listening around the same time I started pushing her away.

And that Blasphemy comment?

Yeah. That was a deliberate kick in the nuts, laced with such innocence that doesn't belong anywhere near the world blasphemy.

She remembers. Everything.

So why the hell isn’t she giving in?