Low-key | ✓

(2) Why Don't We

Why Don't We

The unfamiliar surroundings made the boys feel uneasy. Their manager and brother of one of their co-band members, Tyler Seavey arranged for them to have a meeting with people who would be able to help them with their current situation; their lives in grave danger because of a stalker who has constantly been sending them death threats.

At first, the boys didn't see this more than a joke or prank from a stranger or a hater, but when bulletholes were found at the back of their band's tour bus, they decided that it was time they contacted the authorities.

"Jo, have you called Corbyn? He's MIA again." Zachary Herron, the youngest member of the band asked the eldest.

The boys were sat on a small sofa couch that could only fit five people. Zach at the farthest right, Jack Avery sat next to him, Jonah Marais, and then Daniel Seavey. There was a man that welcomed the four of them inside earlier, he said his name was Cyrus. He was the one in charge, no doubt, that was the plaque on the office desk said, anyways. But he left the boys alone inside the office about ten minutes ago. He said he had a quick errand to run while they were still waiting for the supposed Agent that was going to take their case.

Jonah, who was texting the aforementioned nodded and looked up at his band member. "I've been trying to contact him, but it goes straight to voicemail." He answered.

The four of them frustratedly groaned in synchronization. No surprise there, being a band and hanging with each other for two years and counting definitely got them to move, speak, and sing in sync.

"He may be MIA, but I think we should cut him some slack. Bean's been the frontliner for these threats." Jack shrugged, his phone in his hand as the boys all looked at him when he spoke.

Daniel pursed his lips as he pondered over what Jack had said, "I guess so. But still, this meeting is important. The least he could have done is come, even if it wasn't on time."

The boys nodded in agreement to what the brunette boy had said.

"Is this boy part of your boy band?" The voice of Antoine Cyrus Milan was heard and all boys looked towards the doorframe where an ash-gray haired man held a familiar boy band pop star by his shirt collar.

"Dude what took you so long?" Zach asked Corbyn who was then let go of Cyrus because of the reassurance. Cyrus then made his way to his plush black chair behind his white office desk. He bagan scrolling through his phone, ignoring the presence of the boy band.

"I had a coffee stop." The dirty blonde boy shrugged as he sat on empty space next to Zach.

Zach narrowed his light brown eyes at the boy in suspicion, "Okay. Where is it?"

Corbyn raised his eyebrow at the brunette boy's odd question, "Where is what?"

Zach rolled his eyes at the naivety of his best friend and band mate, "The coff--" He began, but was cut off by the sound of the door being barged open.

"Ah, Sun, what took you so long?" Her boss' voice echoed through the room as soon someone barged the door open.

The pretty face and fiery personality finally had a name. The dirty blonde boy stared in wonder as he quietly tested the name on his own tongue, "Sun."

The boys were silent as a white haired girl in a stained pair of white jeans, stained white blouse, and white stilettos stood by the door. This girl wore a lot of white. Her heels clacked on the marble floor the moment she stepped in.

The boys saw her make eye contact with Cyrus whose emerald green eyes reflected curiosity with a tinge of humor. The boys could only guess that it was probably because of the weird brown stains on the clothes she was wearing.