The storm had passed, but the hotel suite still smelled like wet fur, ramen noodles, and triumph.

Gabriel sprawled across the couch in a pair of loose gym shorts and a towel around his neck, one ear twitching at the faint hum of the bathroom hair dryer where Jonah was apparently trying to resuscitate his sneakers. Maya and Rico were arguing over who broke the mini Keurig. Mark was refolding his shirts with military precision. Thane sat at the table, feet up, laptop open, slowly cataloging gear damage from the rain-slammed show.

No one was in award-show mode.

No one expected what was coming.

DING.

Thane’s email pinged. He didn’t look at it right away. Probably more spam. Another brand partnership offer, maybe. Some streaming analytics. He opened it absentmindedly… and then froze.

Gabriel, sensing the shift, lifted his head.

“…Thane?”

Thane just blinked, leaned forward, and read aloud with the baffled cadence of a man reading a prank:

“Congratulations. Feral Eclipse has been nominated for Best Rock Performance at the International Music Vanguard Awards…”

Cassie, mid-bite of cold pizza, stopped chewing.
Jonah peered out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from his mouth.
Rico went, “Wait. What Vanguard Awards?”

Thane kept reading.

“You’ve been selected for your performance on the track Blood Moon Revival, which has achieved significant cross-platform charting. Your presence is requested at the televised ceremony in Beverly Hills next month… Formal attire required.”

Gabriel’s eyes lit up. “We got nominated for an actual award?!”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Is that the one with the gold-plated lyre statue thing?”

“Yup,” Thane said slowly, still processing. “The really… fancy one.”

Cassie’s face split into a grin. “Oh my god. We’re gonna have to wear shoes, aren’t we?”

Gabriel leapt off the couch, still dripping from his post-shower towel, and did a wild victory lap. “Formal attire? Don’t tempt me—I will slay that red carpet.”

Maya tossed a sock at him. “You’re gonna slay someone with your claws if they try to put you in a tie.”

Gabriel struck a pose. “Fine. Then I’ll go with no shirt. Just vibes.”

Jonah came out holding a damp sneaker like a trophy. “Guys… guys. What if we win?!”

Mark muttered without looking up, “What if the award show gets set on fire?”

Thane stood slowly and closed the laptop. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This could still be a PR stunt.”

Gabriel grinned like the moon just winked at him. “Then we show up, and we turn that stunt into a moment.”

That night, while the rest of the band piled into a corner booth at the late-night diner next to the hotel, Thane and Mark sat quietly at the edge, watching the crew laugh and argue over waffle orders and tuxedo options.

Mark finally said, “Can’t believe we’re going to be on TV.”

Thane sipped his coffee, claws drumming lightly on the mug. “Same wolves. Bigger spotlight.”

Mark nodded. “You gonna make Gabriel wear shoes?”

Thane smirked. “I’ll let the awards show try.”

And just like that… the countdown to chaos had begun.