Axel groaned as the shrill sound of the doorbell pierced his skull like a thousand needles. The pounding in his head grew worse with each chime, a merciless reminder of how much he'd drunk the night before. He cracked one eye open, the morning sunlight streaming in through the blinds adding another layer of pain to his already throbbing headache.
"Ugh," he muttered, swinging his legs off the couch. He nearly collapsed back into the cushions but somehow managed to stagger forward, gripping the wall for support. He didn't need to check the camera to know who it was. The steady, unrelenting way the bell rang told him everything he needed to know. It was Jayvaughn.
He fumbled with the lock and pulled the door open. Sure enough, there stood Jayvaughn Draxler, impeccably dressed despite the early hour, a disapproving scowl etched deep on his face.
"You've been drinking," Jayvaughn said immediately, his nose wrinkling. "You reek of alcohol."
Axel didn't reply. His head hurt too much to form words, let alone come up with a clever retort. He turned around and stumbled back to the couch, sinking into the cushions with a groan.
Jayvaughn stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. Axel watched through half-lidded eyes as Jayvaughn walked over to the dining table and set down a small paper bag. Breakfast, probably. He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned with a plate. Without a word, he unpacked the food, transferred it neatly, and placed it on the coffee table in front of Axel.
"Eat this before I get back," Jayvaughn said firmly, turning toward the door.
Axel blinked. The words left his mouth before he could stop them. "Where are you going?"
The moment the question slipped out, regret flooded him. Why did he sound so... worried? So dependent? He wanted to slap himself.
Jayvaughn paused mid-step. His shoulders tensed, and he slowly turned to look at Axel. The frustration on his face softened, just a little. He seemed to notice Axel's expression—the immediate regret.
"I'm going to get you something for your headache," Jayvaughn said. His tone was clipped but less harsh now. "Eat. I'll be back soon."
Before Axel could say another word, Jayvaughn turned and left.
Axel exhaled and let his body sag into the couch. He'd meant to tell Jayvaughn not to bother, that the pain would pass, but it was too late. He forced himself to stand and dragged his feet into the bathroom. After brushing his teeth and splashing cold water on his face, he felt a little more human.
Back in the living room, the scent of warm food reminded him that his stomach was practically empty. He sat back down and began eating. Halfway through the meal, the door clicked open again, and Jayvaughn walked in, holding a bottle of water and a small box of pills.
Axel's eyes widened slightly. How did he get in? He mentally cursed himself. He'd have to change his apartment passcode—again. If Jayvaughn could waltz in like that, what if he came in while Axel was doing something... less innocent?
Jayvaughn didn't comment. He walked over, handed Axel the water and placed the pills on the table in front of him.
Axel eyed the medicine like it was poison. He scrunched his face and looked up at Jayvaughn. "Can I not take that? Really, I think I'll be fine. Just give it a few hours."
Jayvaughn didn't flinch. "You're taking it. You were bold enough to drink yourself into this state, so you're bold enough to fix it."
Axel sighed and picked up the pills with obvious reluctance.
The truth was, he hated medicine. Not just the taste or the side effects. It was the memories they brought. Back in the organization, when he and K were just children, he'd once volunteered to take K's place as a pill tester. The scientists—or whatever they were—used him like a lab rat, forcing pills down his throat and noting the reactions. Some made him violently ill. One almost killed him. That trauma never left.
Still, with Jayvaughn standing over him, arms folded and eyes set, Axel knew he had no choice. He forced the pills down and washed them away with the water, grimacing the entire time.
Jayvaughn finally sat beside him, satisfied. "I came to get you so we could continue working on the melody for the new song," he said, glancing at Axel's pale face. "But clearly, you're not in any state to work. Rest for now."
And just like that, he got up and left.
________________________
The rest of the month moved quickly. Axel slowly regained his strength and his full bodily functions. His body stopped aching from the trauma of his near-death experience.
Now he could finally shake off this feeling of vulnerability—of weakness. In his past life, he'd been powerful. Deadly. Feared. Now, he was trapped in a body that looked good on stage but felt too light, too soft.
And so, Axel began to prepare.
He added a daily training regimen to his routine. He didn't need to be exactly who he was in his past life, but he needed to feel strong again—capable, controlled.
Most importantly, he needed to be ready. K might think Z was dead, but Axel knew better than to trust the calm. Something was coming.
Their band rehearsals resumed, and Axel buried himself in the music. It was the only thing that still brought him peace. The group worked on perfecting the instrumental melody for their upcoming song, and for once, Axel and Jayvaughn managed to focus on the task without arguing.
The whole group agreed to meet at the company the next day. They'd need to finalize the arrangement with the manager, and the production team had started designing the music video.