The air backstage was electric, buzzing with leftover adrenaline and a light haze of fog fluid that hadn’t quite settled yet. Everyone was still riding the high from the Frankfurt set — Jonah drumming out rhythms on the catering table with two chopsticks, Cassie breathlessly recounting the way the front row had screamed every lyric, and Gabriel practically glowing with the afterglow of playing to a sold-out German crowd.
It was warm and loud and happy.
Until the tour phone rang.
Thane barely glanced at the screen, but when he saw the name “Nathan” flash across it, his entire posture changed.
He stepped away from the group without a word, disappearing into the darker, quieter part of the venue’s backstage hallway. Concrete walls. No one to hear. He pressed the answer button and kept his voice steady.
“Hello.”
“Heyyy, is Gabriel around?” came the voice on the other end — smug, smooth, manipulative as ever. “We’ve been watching the tour highlights on social media — man, it’s crazy! Anyway, I’ve got some friends back home who are huge fans, and I was wondering if you guys could maybe —”
“You’re not speaking to Gabriel,” Thane said sharply, already done. “You’re speaking to me. And I know why you’re calling.”
“Woah, chill. I just wanted —”
“You wanted to guilt him. Again. Into giving you tickets, money, access —whatever selfish garbage you cooked up this time. You don’t care about Gabriel. You never have. You only call when you want something.”
There was a pause. Then a mocking laugh. “Man, what are you, his bodyguard now?”
Thane’s eyes narrowed. His claws extended slightly without thought. “As far as you’re concerned, yes.”
And his voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl.
“And I’m telling you right now — if you ever call this number again… if you ever try to manipulate him, use him, or twist your way into his life again… I will get on a plane, fly to Massachussetts from wherever I am, find you… and rip you clean in half with my bare paws.”
There was a silence on the other end. Thane didn’t wait for a reply. He hung up.
He stood there, breathing hard, his heart pounding, claws still slightly curled. His tail lashed once, sharply, before he forced it still. He took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and turned to head back toward the green room
Where Gabriel was standing in the hallway.
“I heard,” Gabriel said quietly.
Thane froze. “I didn’t mean —”
“No,” Gabriel said, his voice breaking just slightly. “You don’t need to explain anything. I heard everything.”
His eyes were glassy. But not angry. Not embarrassed.
Just full of emotion.
“You didn’t have to do that for me,” he whispered.
Thane stepped forward and cupped Gabriel’s cheek gently in one clawed hand. “I know. But I wanted to.”
Gabriel exhaled, his breath hitching slightly as he leaned into the touch. “You’re the first person who’s ever stood between me and my brother like that. The first one who didn’t just… let him keep using me.”
Thane pulled him into a firm, protective embrace. “No one hurts you. Not while I’m breathing.”
Gabriel buried his muzzle against Thane’s neck, arms wrapped tight around him. “Thank you.”
And in the chaos of the post-show whirlwind, the crew respectfully gave them space — even Jonah, who was halfway through a story about someone puking on a merch table, stopped mid-sentence and waved everyone toward the other room.
In a world of screaming fans and thundering applause, this moment was private. Quiet. Unshakable.