fallin' for you | zach herron

eleven.

beverly hills, california
september 21st, 2021
5:27pm

The air was tense, thick with the anxious silence that filled the large space. Eben had gone out for the day with some friends, leaving the band together and alone in case of the verdict. So far, the group had no clue what was going to happen, whether Why Don't We would flourish, or whether it would crash and burn.

Thankfully, the evidence was in their favor. With logs and audio recordings and text messages against their other manager to show to a judge, it made the whole case look even more positive for them.

The group was all gathered in Zach's house, sunlight peeking through the translucent curtains, casting a glowing light onto the ivy wall. Jonah was stretched out on the couch, legs draped over Jack's as he ran a hand down his face. Daniel curled up in the armchair, scrolling on his phone just to turn it off, wait a few seconds, and continue scrolling again aimlessly. Corbyn was leaned up against the armchair, resting his head against Daniel's knees as he "slept." Zach was sprawled out on the fuzzy carpet, squished in between the couch and the coffee table as he rested his head in his arms.

He didn't think any of them had spoken for the last two hours, sitting in silence aside from the occasional movement of someone grabbing water or using the bathroom. They were just sitting there. Waiting for the verdict of the final trial.

It wasn't like they weren't grateful they didn't have to be there, that they didn't have to face the man that hurt them. But the suspense was killing them. The trial was supposed to end at five o'clock, but they knew these things could take longer.

They were startled out of their solemn reverie by a loud knock on the door, heads swiveling to face it. Zach broke out of his frozen state for a minute, shakily standing up and looking out the window. Whatever he saw, it made him dash towards the front door, quickly unlocking it and making all the boys get to their feet, on alert.

Randy stepped into the house, still in his full suit and tie, although the latter was slung over his shoulder, obviously having been tired of it being around his neck all day. The grey-haired man scanned the room, taking in the faces of everyone else.

"Is..." Daniel almost didn't even want to say the words, terrified of jinxing it. "Is it over? Did we win?"

They all looked terrified, on the verge of tears at the news they may or may not receive. Jonah was grasping Jack's shoulder, squeezing it in a comforting manner.

"It's over." Randy smiled, small dimples forming near his mouth as he told the group.

Zach felt his knees grow weak beneath him, no longer able to hold him upright. It felt as if the wind had just been knocked out of him. Randy caught him by the waist with a gasp, helping him back over toward the living room area.

He couldn't feel his body. It felt like everything was numb. Zach felt himself being lifted onto the couch, his mind blurry like his eyes. He looked around at his bandmates and saw one thing: relief.

Daniel was on his knees, curled over as he cried tears of joy, so happy to be finally free, to do what they want without the risk of angering their manager. Jonah was hugging Jack, the pair both shaking like mad as they rocked back and forth. Corbyn had collapsed backward onto the armchair, hands folded over his mouth.

"It's okay. It's okay." Randy sat on the arm of Corbyn's chair, grasping the back of the younger boy's neck, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin. "You boys are going to be safe now. I'm not letting him hurt you any longer."