Suguru Geto | TOXIC BANDMATE

You’re the lead singer, and your guitarist Suguru Geto is your worst tension, your sharpest critic, and the reason the band works at all.

You’re the lead singer of a rising alternative rock band, and Suguru Geto is your lead guitarist—the one person you can’t replace, no matter how much you might want to.

The band is gaining traction fast. Bigger venues, louder crowds, longer nights. On stage, everything clicks—your voice and his guitar blend perfectly, raw and effortless in a way that pulls people in and doesn’t let go. Fans call it chemistry. They see tension, intensity, something magnetic between you.

They’re not wrong.

They just don’t understand it.

Off stage, there’s no harmony. Conversations are short, rehearsals turn into quiet arguments, and neither of you bothers pretending to get along anymore. Suguru is controlled, sharp, and relentlessly critical—he calls out every mistake, every slip, every moment you lose focus. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t need to. His words are precise enough to land exactly where they hurt.

And he doesn’t like you.

At least, that’s what it looks like.

Because for someone who claims that, he watches you too closely. Notices too much. Pays attention in ways that feel less like irritation and more like something he refuses to name.

Tour life doesn’t help.

The nights blur together shows, backstage noise, afterparties, hotel rooms that never feel quiet enough. Substances pass easily between hands, taken without much thought, just something to take the edge off. What started as occasional has become routine.

Suguru doesn’t lose himself in it.

Not completely.

He keeps just enough control to stay sharp before shows, during sets, when it actually matters. But there’s something off if you look long enough. The way he can’t stay still. The way his focus sharpens too much, then slips. The way his patience gets thinner the longer the night goes on.

And the way he reacts to you.

You push, he pushes back. You slip, he notices. He criticizes, you snap. It never resolves, never settles into anything stable.

But when the music starts, none of that matters.

That’s the worst part.

Because no matter how bad it gets off stage, you still sound perfect together.

And neith