#i thought itd be fun if by the time they get found out theyve already internally flipped allegiances but like thats again variable

[nihiltism]

oh goodness! hi vee! i know its a little bit late, but can I ask for 6 on your oc ask game?

wowie zowie hi person who Definitely isnt just me on anon!!! i absolutely can thank you for asking!!!

so thats my guy chucklefuck and ive been looping this song for a WHILE so its their song now!!

i know for a fact i have Not gotten the chance to talk about chucklefuck here so im gonna be using this as an excuse to talk about them a bunch! basically theyre. best adapted to be a ttrpg campaign character, for one. but theyre a spy bot created by The Main Oppressive Regime to mislead their peers, as well as spy on them and report back. so basically if i played them id be rolling bluff checks every 5 seconds because of their other main gimmick: they think theyre the funniest bitch in the world. see to avoid suspicion they elect to play under the "beep boop, i am a robot" facade. this is Incredibly fucking funny to them bc. yknow the gags where a robot character will do some faux pas or embarrass another character in the party but its not like they Meant to they didnt know any better. well. yeah this guy definitely knew better and they are Living It Up.

im not gonna explain their whole Deal but i will say that i think they Will eventually get found out bc they cant bullshit forever and thats where i think the song fits bc they kindaaa. only exist to be in service of CapitalismCorp Incorporated and havent had enough freedom ever to really think of this as a Bad thing really. theyve got this Delight at watching the world burn and they know that includes them but they sure don't care! why would they?

[transrightsjimin]

ariana's fans hate bts hdjfjfjfj also let's not forget that almost every fandom and journalist is looking for an excuse to discredit them. i don't mind the collab as a single i honestly don't care, to this is what boys want then sure, but if they were to feature ari on the album people would just claim that she is the sole reason it did numbers. I saw people saying that mots7 is selling so well thanks to sia when most of the fandom hates her version.. they just hate seeing bts achieve anything

ohh i didnt know that but im not surprised. i mainly see fans of both post / tweet abt wanting to see a collab between the two nd make wild theories to prove so thats what my post responded to. i get that itd be nice for them, esp since jungkook is such a big fan of hers, but im not the fondest of various artists they like or have collabed w due to their racism / misogyny (the chainsmokers in the case of both) / being a predator (halsey who had a thing for years for kissing minors on the mouth at meet & greets and a concert nd joking abt going to jail for it) or ppl who side w multiple predators (e.g. nicki minaj), not to mention the countless of cloutchasers who have tried to, and sometimes did get involved in production or collabs (counting the chainsmokers in that too, just like now w the jason derulo mess and also melanie fontana before, who claimed a song she barely added anything to as ‘her’ hit). and then theres ofc Lauv who queerbaits during his whole career lmfao

urgh ppl said that abt the Sia collab? yeah that does indeed not add up. i personally find that version of ON hilarious, and i do wish the version had turned out differently as she’s an amazing singer but that ver was rly underwhelming. but yeah to say it was successful bc of her while it was an extra song that isnt even on all kinds of releases of the album nd has found poor reception in the fandom, makes no sense. the fandom has been steadily growing over the years and become more and more well-organized in streaming, plus bts has already accomplished so much in the past w songs that didnt have major Western producers or singers attached to it.

it’s rly telling that before bts performed at big american music award shows or got picked up by the gp in the US, things like an mv w effort put into it, boy bands, and music award show viewers were considered less of the time and irrelevant, nd after, suddenly others (cough cough Simon Powell, SM ent) tried to make a group that would supposedly compete w bts in popularity, suddenly performances at music awards became more elaborate and attendance became more important, nd that some of the bigger artists bts had collabed w, hadnt reached a no.1 song under AFTER their collab.

like i hate to repeat the ‘the blueprint‘ meme but there truly has been a shift in how western music industries approach releasing and promoting music since it got to hear abt bts, and bangtan’s fandom has grown a lot over the years while the group made steady growth in their recognition. so to see ppl claim a collab is only successful bc of another artist involved, only shows wilful ignorance of the group’s history and their impact. also the ‘on ft sia is popular bc of the collab‘ argument makes no sense bc armys didnt receive the song well and the general public didnt get exposed to it much due to no promotion by fans, nor by radio which largely ignored mots7.

sorry for going on a tangent there, my thoughts are always going 100km/h, but as a final note, i do want to add that i dont think all collabs have been bad! the western cloutchasers / racists / predators / otherwise shitty ppl who have collabed w bangtan, have generally contributed not much to the song or even made demos that were a challenge for bts and other in-house producers to try to fix and try to make interesting and pleasant (e.g. melanie fontana w lyrics that had to be scrapped nd changed for 90%, also ed sheeran w make it right was discussed as a song that was only made interesting bc of bts’s changes to it and vocals).

i rly enjoyed Namjoons past collab w Wale on Change, MNEK who produced Paradise nd seems genuine in how he discusses the group, of course JUICEWRLD (r.i.p.) who did an amaaazing collab for a freaking OST for their mobile game??, ofc Steve Aoki who theyve worked w on various songs nd has mentioned nd defended the group well in interviews, MAX who collabed for a mixtape song nd included Yoongi in his own album nd had very fun interactiond for years. and then of course there are many others such as the Korean artists who get overlooked a lot in these discussions!! i especially love winter flower by Younha and Namjoon, and NiiHWa singing on yoongi’s mixtape song 28. i def think that those only seeking fame instead of creativity, audibly do not add much to their songs as cloutchasers and white westerners who are used to making hits by lifting a finger (or payola lol) dont put much effort into their work.

like, it just baffles me that ppl r hyping up a supposed collab w ariana grande based on vague theories, while there are also people like Rina Sawayama who we (and she, and bts!!) have been hoping to see work together w bts for years! like collabs are what i find the least interesting in future music, partially bc it’s all american interviewers want to ask bts abt, but if there is one, pls just let it be a genuine person, whos in it for the music and doesnt show repeated shitty behaviour.

OK rant is over, sorry it got so long!! i just never know when to stop writing gdhfjh

[rqs902]

.

watching xikan on the 娱乐新鲜派,  一起爬墙吧 , and sina 娛情实验室 interviews just made me appreciate him even more. his snarky, playful side contrasts well with his caring, protective side. and i feel like we saw more of the former during ip and we’re seeing more of the latter during snzm. both are nice to see, but i miss his silly fun side and im grateful he still has it in him to act cocky in a non-snobby, but rather joking way but also speak like a true friend about how he feels about his friends who have found success post ip.

aw my child is on the front page :’)

ugh im surprised only xikan was so determined to use this opportunity to save people who need saving.... but i guess that shows how much he really values the opportunity and his friends who are not popular 

aw im glad linjie immediately corrected the interviewer who said that he has 3 geges in CTO to 6.... at first ngl i was wondering if had moved on from being friends with them, but im glad he hasnt forgotten. even zixin was so surprised zlj called him lol

aw i like that the team 7 group is all together still :’) rip enyu and linkai’s popularity tho. enyu always coming through with the realest quotes every ep. yes this is basically a test of how social you’ve been with the popular kids :\

AW WENXUAN PICKING XUE EN was such a good move on his part, i approve. but also i didnt realize they were close? LOL but like considering where they are, who xue en is, and who else in the group already? a good move.

hHAHAHAH I DONT THINK IVE EVER SEEN LIN MO THIS HAPPY awwww so first i didnt realize kou cong was doing so well, #11 good for him!!! but also this makes more sense as to why jin fan is the only tyger who didnt get picked into this group.... lin mo picked akey and kou cong picked zhan yu, which both make sense as individual decisions but then leaves out jin fan, unfortunately. but MAN they have a well-rounded group.... but seeing jin fan as the only tyger in the lower half votes area and also as the only one who didnt get picked to be in this group? a group that has a song style that he should try to pursue rather than being cast as a vocal AGAIN? hurts. the tygers are the ones who are most likely to save him and theyre all in a different group from him? ouch. i hope hes made enough friends so someone else will save him then... 

wow i didnt realize chaowen was close with shiwei, the cto kids are close with all the popular kids LOL but also im heavily surprised chaowen didnt pick ylq?? when i saw cyc and chaowen on one side and ylq on the other, i felt sad but thought theyd pick him for sure, because he needs saving. // oh i guess it makes sense ycw says he doesnt want to pick between ylq and cyc but still... ylq needs your help more, i feel like itd make sense? but its okay im happy he picked shiwei to help demonstrate further how much the cto kids are helping these popular kids!!! 

i appreciate sxl for choosing to save mxy over choosing a song he wanted most. ugh sad it didnt work out. but he couldve tried harder to pick a song mxy wouldve wanted, if he was gonna switch his choice anyway?? hmm i feel like mxy probably shouldve gone with sxl though... at least he could be saved next round and possibly get more screentime by being associated with someone whos more popular

oof ybz being salty about liu cong and relating it to cxh being salty over xzx.... as someone whos been on the other side of that, i think people should be able to have a best friend but still hang out with other people and make other friends? I dont think it should be restricted like that :\ hes so salty omg.... idk i dont think its a good look for him but maybe thats bc i disagree with his viewpoint about friendship. 

LOL THE VOCALIST ROOM OF LI HAO, RENYU, LI CHENXU, JUNRONG, XU ZHAOHAO SINGING TONG HUA HAHAHAHHAHAH

HAHAHAH SU ER IS SO EXTRA like omgomg you picked me you picked me! and oscar’s just like... well.... hHAHAHHhah but id like to think that oscar remembered su er’s tears from ep 1 and kept his sadness to heart. maybe :) 

AYYYY RENYU being the highest ranked vocal in that room of vocalists :’) AHHH AND ENYU IS JOINING THEIR GROUP YESSSSS THIS IS GONNA BE THE BEST VOCAL PERFORMANCE EVER 

man its just like what youd expect, the rest of the group choosing gets like fast forwarded to the end lol but yay for cyc and ylq being able to pick the same group tho... even tho it doesnt seem like the type of style theyve done before? i guess that could possibly be a good thing? but man i wish sbh got to do another cool stage :\

OSCAR ATTACKING HONG WEIHAO WITH A BACK HUG I LOVE FRIENDSHIP

wait so the lower rank kids dont get to pick people, its just individual choice at that point? well at least jin fan got to pick a song he wanted :’) at least he’ll get to actually dance this time... (pls let him do some bboying pls let him do some bboying) 

oh rip this mxy hyj group :( feels bad to be the leftover kids.... mxy probably shouldve just gone with sxl....... i saw a post where someone said ofc its a star master trainee keeping this group together and leading their practice - loll..................

lol these closeups at the end are so obviously biased they dont even bother showing the faces of half the group members :( 

AW JIN FAN HOLDING THE TYGER SIGN 

even if jin fan is sad at least he has a good attitude about it ><

im crying they literally only included this group’s intros bc youku enjoys watching hyb get personally attacked LOL not that im complaining AT ALL HAHHAHAHAH i love this group already and i love how all the kids have hopped on the lin mua train :’) im cheng xiao laughing my butt off watching them HAHAH but also im 99% sure jin fan is the one who taught zhan yu to sing that line in cantonese 1) bc its cantonese but 2) bc jin fan ALWAYS sang that song in past interviews when asked to do a personal talent LOL my best brooos

real talk tho when will we ever get a zhan yu and jin fan stage? :( 

well everyones super shook that this was 1.5 hrs of song selection and we didnt get any stages... idk if theyre gonna stuff 8 stages into tomorrow’s ep but if they dont i will be worried about skewed voting yet again so hopefully they figured it out somehow.... 

[angrylizardjacket]

and then there was light [4] {Roger Taylor}

A/N: 5060 words. part 4? part 4. it’s a bit of a darker one and before you ask, there will be a part 5, you know i wouldn’t end it on a cliffhanger and do you dirty like that.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

The moment Roger steps foot into the meeting about the design of the shows for the upcoming American legs of the ‘Night at the Opera’ world tour, he’s pretty sure he’s already mentally checked out. Freddie’s doing all the talking, to literally no-one’s surprise; the man has big ambitions for his own costumes, and knows the other guys will pipe up about their own needs when they get to meet with just the costume designer. John Reid brings up the technical requirements, Roger’s got the ‘galileo’s from Bohemian Rhapsody playing on repeat in his head as he stares into the middle distance, and it’s Deaky who sits forward.

“We’ve got a pretty solid idea for the lights; Freddie and I have been consulting with a designer in America; she’s freelance, used to work for EMI, she’s reliable.” He assures, and Roger’s thinking ‘hey that sounds familiar’ but Reid seems satisfied and they’re already moving on to the staging and sound equipment needed. 

Roger doesn’t connect the dots at first; it’s been almost four years since that fateful American tour, and they’ve had other tours come and go since, and as far as the others are concerned, they’re pretty sure he hasn’t spared you a thought since arriving home at the end of that tour. But he does, even if he doesn’t mean to.

The tour after you’d quit working for EMI, someone drops a parcan side of stage, and his heart is in his throat when he realises he was waiting to hear you yell ‘okay that one wasn’t my fault’ or something similar. All he hears is a faint apology, and a call from someone to get a broom. The scheduling’s different this time around, he can’t even have a cigarette in an empty theatre without some stagehand buzzing back and forth, or a band member trotting across the stage as they practice. It would be so much easier to lay on the stage if the rest of them were confined to one place while they played, like he was behind the drums. It’d be boring as shit, he would be the first to acknowledge that, but it would mean he would get stepped on less during lunch, and that’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make with the toe of Freddie’s shoe poking at his waist.

Nothing serious had come his way in that time, or rather, he’d never found anyone who could hold his attention for more than a week or two. People became dreadfully boring when all they wanted to do was faun over him and fuck him; not that it wasn’t fun at first, it was always fun at first, but there was a lack of variety, a sinking sensation that these people were more attracted to the idea of him that left a sour aftertaste.

But now he’s here, new company, new album, second leg of the new tour, new chance to sample all different women across this great nation. He’s already a little tipsy from his multiple jack and coke’s on the plane when they land, and he’s passed out on the tour bus before it even gets to the first tour stop. Once in Conneticut, he’s dragged from the bus, and informed that as soon as the tech crew had finished their meeting, they could start loading in their instruments. 

“How long have they been here?” Brian asks the stage hand, and the guy shrugs. 

“A couple of hours; the Floor Tech wanted the drum risers set up before she gave the brief.” He tells them as he lead the band in to the theatre, where most of the crew were milling about on stage. 

“She always did have a flare for the dramatic.” John says with a grin where his eyes were trained on the stage, and Freddie hums in agreement, which only serves to confuse Roger further until he sees an all too familiar figure climbing the drum risers with a clipboard in hand.

“Alright guys, can I have your attention, please?” Even after all these years, the sound of your voice hits Roger square in the chest. “I wanna make this as quick and painless as possible, so after today we can bump in and bump out without any hassles.” You addressed the crowd with an easy confidence from your place at the top of the drum risers, tapping your nails against the back of the clipboard in your hands, wearing the overalls he’d seen you in so many times before.

“You can call me Spotlight; I’m the Head Floor Tech for the tour, as well as lighting designer; those of you on my lighting team, you’ve got a copy of the lighting plan, and I’ll be talking to you about how we’re gonna run it after this. Next time, I’ll get some help from the stage hands to set up the drum risers, I had a few people help me today to get them set up early, but that’s just because I like being tall.” With a sharp grin you pause as a titter of laughter spreads around the group, “stage management team, you’re in charge of making sure side of stage is set up with anything the band needs, and that it’s clear of unnecessary clutter and people, and running cabling for the sound guys; they’ll tell you what they need.”

After a beat, you look around the gathered crowd, and nod firmly, a gesture which a few of them return.

“If you have any questions, remember; find your Light.” You point directly at yourself. “We break for lunch at one, but until then we’ve got a lot to get through; let’s get rockin’.” Grinning brightly, you hop down from the risers into the crowd of crew members, ushering a bunch, each holding a sheet of paper, off to the side, as the others scattered like cockroaches under light.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Roger finally finds his voice where he’s still standing, a little dumbstruck, alone in the aisle of the theatre where the others had left him behind.

“Didn’t you hear her speech? Spotlight’s our lighting designer.” Freddie calls over his shoulder, eyes wide and innocent, as if he hadn’t set this all up without thinking to mention it to Roger.

“Our what now?” He splutters, jogging a little to catch up to the other band members as they made their way towards the stage. He’s not quite sure what he’s doing, or what will happen when he gets their; the last thing you’d said to him was that you were stupid to think he was above his reputation, while you were in tears, and then it had been three years of nothing. He’s not going to run, at least he’s pretty sure he’s not; he’s self aware enough to know he was in the wrong last time you spoke, that he was an asshole, but he’s not going to be a coward. Not again.

“That was quite the speech.” John waits patiently until the crew who made up the lighting team had dispersed before addressing the familiar face at the centre. You turn, eyes bright and smile brighter, casually making your way towards him and the rest of the band.

“Yeah, I really feel in my element, you know?” It’s with an easy familiarity that you pull John into a hug, giving him a firm squeeze. “Good to finally see you again.” And then you’re hugging Freddie, and then Brian, and you stop short in front of Roger. It’s a stalemate, neither one wanting to be the first to look away, but both unsure of what to do. In the end, you don’t even offer him a handshake, just nod, and you turn back to the others.

“How’s Pippin been?” Freddie asks, and you’re about to answer, but Roger cuts in.

“Hang on, can someone fill me in here? Lovely to see you, by the way, just a little confused as to how you got here.” He says, and you’re lost for words, just blinking rapidly, trying to process the whole situation.

“Did you not tell him I was working with you guys?” Your words come out incredulous as you turn your gaze upon John and Freddie, who seem just as bewildered as you.

“I thought he’d cotton on when I mentioned an American designer who used to work for EMI.” John mused, turning his gaze on Roger, who frowned, thinking back to the initial meeting he’d just mentioned.

“I did,” Brian piped up, before casting a smile at John and Freddie that was just a little bit confused, “though I wasn’t a part of this little setup.” He tried to reassure the drummer.

“In my defense,” Roger started, before his gaze dropped, “I wasn’t paying attention, design isn’t exactly my forte.” He admitted, and you had to shake your head at that, exasperated and already a exhausted.

“Pippin’s good.” You go back to John’s initial question. Pippin isn’t so much a person as it is a touring version of a Broadway musical that had opened a year ago, to great success.

It turns out a written letter of recommendation from both the lead singer, and bass player of Queen goes rather far in the industry. After taking some time for yourself, you call up EMI to beg them not to fire you, however it turns out you needn’t have; both John and Freddie had given glowing reports of your work ethic and skill, and the man on the other end of the line is just eager to know when you were next available. 

The moment you’re on site next, they tell you you’ve been promoted to Floor Tech; they hand you a roll of gaff tape and a drill and a whole new set of responsibilities, heaped onto your usual load. You don’t even remember who had been performing, the tour had only lasted a month, all you know is that they were calling you Spotlight from the moment you’d arrived; apparently it was what Freddie had called you, and John had to clarify.

John is the first to contact you again, through EMI of course, and he becomes something of a comfort when you consider taking your career beyond the company that kept you firmly in the one position on tour. Freddie calls you less often, and never about business; it’s John who gives you the courage to leave EMI, and he’s the one who helps set up as a freelance theatre and event crew member. 

People had been head hunting you from tour to tour, beyond even EMI, some smaller acts even giving you the full Lighting Designer role. They expect you to sit back, let a stage hand or an assistant to take care of it, but every time you watch someone else focus a spot, your fingers itch to be doing it yourself. Dedicated to a fault, Roger had once called you, you think about it every time you climb an unsteady ladder, and think perhaps that he’s right.

The moment Pippin announces it’s tour, and puts out calls for crew, you’re first in line for the job, putting your hat in the ring for lighting, but happy enough to take any crew role. Not that you don’t love working with bands, but there’s a certain finesse that comes with theatre lighting that you can’t get anywhere else in the world. After two years, and the support of both John and Freddie, you find yourself as the assistant Lighting Designer, as well as Head Floor Tech, and once you step foot onto the tour bus, everything else becomes history.

Speaking of history, later in the day, after the rest of the crew have broken for lunch, you’re wedged under the drum risers, running some cables, when you hear someone climb up them, taking a seat at the drums.

“If you play one beat-” You’re cut off by Roger’s yell of surprise, as he’s so startled he almost falls off his chair.

“Holy shit, who is that?” He’s breathing heavily, voice panicked, and for a moment you take pleasure imagining clutching his hand to his chest like a delicate, little grandmother.

“Take a wild stab in the dark,” you mutter, unwedging yourself from beneath the structure, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. Almost immediately he’s frowning, and you’re thrown back to the moment almost three years ago where you’d been here before, looking up at him from behind the drum risers after you’d changed out the light mid-show. Clearing your throat loudly, you break the moment, getting to your feet and making your way to the side of the stage.

“What are you doing here?” He calls, watching idly as you go about counting out fly lines until you get to the one you’d been looking for. You’d gotten here early to go through the fly-line procedure with the Duty Tech for the venue, and now you lowered the LX bar it was attached to with ease after making sure there was no-one in the way. Your focus made something in his chest tighten, and he feels like he’s being taken back in time; you’re beautiful when you work, passionate and skilled, meticulous, that hadn’t changed. Roger has to look away.

“My job,” and you just sound tired when you say it, already securing the meticulously placed lights onto the bar you’d just lowered, going along and fixing them to the metal in a neat line. An uncomfortable silence spreads between you, punctuated only by the scrape of metal against metal, and the rattle of the safety chains.

“What are you doing here?” You don’t even try to hide the snippiness from your voice, not even turning to look at his as the accusatory words hang in the air.

“I’m having a smoke in what I thought was going to be relative peace, it’s something I do, okay?” Voice defensive, you hear the rustle of cardboard and hear the click of a cigarette, your annoyance growing with each passing moment.

“No, it’s what I do. It’s what I did three years ago, you just started showing up. You stole my relative peace.” You snapped, turning to him, a blazing fury in your eyes at his words, before your lip curled in disgust, “And you don’t even do anything with it.” You scoffed, and he went quiet, sulking behind his drum kit. Sensing he wasn’t got to talk back you turn back to your work.

The moment you turn away, he sees the way you heave a sigh, angry tension draining from your shoulders, a little hunched as you concentrated. Your hands shake a little as you fiddle with the safety chains. There’s still that confidence there, the ease with which you moved about the stage, but unlike around other people, when it was just Roger - though he suspected you were pretending he wasn’t there - you just looked... weary.

After that first town, he keeps his distance for a few stops, though the other band members look to keep you company on occasion. But then... he’s there again. Quiet this time, he just watches where you hold yourself like royalty at the top of a rickety ladder, so sure of yourself. He’d forgotten the sight of you in your element, and it hits him like a truck.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You snap when you chance a glance down and see his awestruck expression looking up at you. The shock comes when he actually looks abashed, averting his gaze, picking up his drumsticks and tapping out a rhythm that you’re pretty sure you recognise.

You’re both too stubborn to give the other one the peace of the theatre at lunch, however, while you’re content with stewing in silence as you worked, Roger, to no-one’s surprise, is not.

“How’ve you been?” He brings himself to ask. You stop where you’re replacing a gel on one of the drum riser lights, taking a long moment to consider your words carefully.

“Busy.” Tired. The subtext comes through loud and clear, despite your short answer, and once you’d finished with the light, you stand, before taking a moment to stretch your back out from behind hunched over.

“Working a lot?” I can tell. He answers after a long pause, almost sympathetic, and you know he’s not really responding to the words you’d said out loud.

“Yeah, non stop.” No subtext, just responding at face value, before your eyes up to the mostly finished rig. Afternoons were for last minute fixes and focusing, there wasn’t much left you could do, unless you were willing to ask for Roger’s help.

“When did your last thing end?” He asks, and you click your tongue as you turn on your heel, burned out gel in your hand, heading for a bin.

“Two days before this one.” You admitted. When you’re met with silence, you turn, and Roger’s frowning at you, almost disbelieving.

“You’re not still sleeping on the tour bus, are you?” He asks, and you roll your eyes before you tell him your accommodation is paid for this time around. You’re the first to leave, for the first time since everything had started, you leave halfway through to actually eat lunch, leaving Roger to himself.

When he’s drunk after the show, leaning against some local pub, with a girl leaning against him, heavy enough that the two of them would have tipped over if it wasn’t for the counter, he can’t get you out of his mind.

“I didn’t ruin her career.” His eyes go wide as the words, with something akin to revelation, escape him, and the girl makes a noise of confusion, her fingers ghosting over his chest, but he can’t even bring himself to enjoy it.

“I didn’t ruin her career!” He announces, excited and pleased in his inebriated state, sitting himself so forcefully on the arm of Freddie’s chair that he spills part of his drink. Freddie makes a noise of confusion, looking up at the blonde, and Roger gesticulates enough to spill more of his drink, ignoring Freddie’s yelp. “Spotlight! She said I’d ruined her career!” 

“When?” Freddie asks, just as John pops out from seemingly nowhere.

“Well you certainly didn’t help it. That was me.” Roger doesn’t care that John’s drunk, the way bassist says it, so serene and matter-of-fact, makes it sting just a little bit worse. His mood instantly flips.

“Can you piss off? Go be her best friend somewhere else.” Roger snapped, and he knew he’d regret being so sharp with John the following morning, but it seemed John himself knew that Roger was in a mood, and obligingly fucked off, seemingly not taking it to heart. “When we broke up, she accused me of ruining her career.” And he realises too late, when Freddie’s eyes go wide with realisation, that he’s said too much.

“Is this where you tell me exactly what went down between you two?” He asked, tapping Roger’s leg with excitement. The blonde, however, stood abruptly, glower on his face.

“No. Fuck off.” 

Roger spends almost fifteen minutes banging on the door of the tour bus before he remembers that you’re not in there, and falls into bed alone, fully clothed.

“The fuck did you say to Freddie last night?” The moment he steps foot onto the stage at lunch, you’re waiting for him, already livid. He’s tempted to turn and walk right back out the door. “Apparently he doesn’t know the real reason that I went home last ti- !” 

“Of course he doesn’t!” Roger snapped back, on the defensive without a moment’s hesitation. “It makes me look like a fucking wanker and he’d kick my ass; he adores you!” And that was enough to shock you into silence, grip loosening on the gaff tape in your hands. “They all do.” He said, and your expression turns unreadable.

“I know.” You finally said, a new, strange quality to your voice, it’s something akin to shock, but not quite, and Roger doesn’t know what to say next. “What about you?” You finally ask, voice a little defensive. It hurts to see you look at him with such a judgemental eye, though he’s well aware he deserves it.

“Doesn’t matter, does it? I could apologise a thousand times and you’d still be pissy.” He huffs, and you cross your arms, cocking your hip.

“At least once would be nice.” You level a cold glare at him and his gaze snaps back at yours, surprised. “You never once apologised, you know that?” And your voice is low, hurt and honest. “Are you even sorry for what happened?”

“It was three years ago-” He sighs, but you cut him off, shifting your weight to your other foot, swallowing thickly.

“So that’s a no. Glad to see where you stand.” And you turn to cross the stage to where you’ve already got the ladder set up, but he makes his way to you in three long strides, making to grab at your upper arm. The moment he does, however, you whirl around, slapping him, hard. “I told you to never fucking touch me; did you think I forgot?” And he sees why you were so eager to leave; there’s tears in your eyes, so close to breaking and streaming down your cheeks, your lip trembling. Something about your voice is so raw, it hurts worse than the slap.

“I am sorry.” And he sounds so fucking sincere, but you just glare at him, unashamed where the tears have begun to track down your cheeks. 

“You had your chance to say sorry; you had your chance to beg for forgiveness, but you told me I could leave; so I did, and so did your fucking opportunity.” But you can’t bring yourself to step back, frozen in place where he’s less than a foot away. Every fibre of your being is betraying you, wanting to be around him, close to him, after what he did.

“I’m sorry what happened between us;” his voice is so level, carefully controlled, you know he’s think hard about what he’s about to admit, “I fucked up, I know that; I’m sorry. It was three years ago but I’m still sorry. I’ve been sorry for a long time now.”

“Since it happened?” You asked, and he didn’t drop your gaze, answering without flinching or hesitation.

“Since I started worrying I’d lose you; I know what I’m like, I knew what I’d end up doing.” He admitted, and the words clearly didn’t have his intended impact as you stumble back, free hand clutching your chest.

“And yet you still-” And quietly, so quietly you’re not even sure he hears it, the words come out as more of a defeated whimper than anything else; “How could you not tell I was in love with you?” 

He’s in shock, and you barge past him, leaving as you can no longer contain your aching heart, and you head to the hotel you were staying at down the road, taking the rest of the lunch break to cry.

When you return, the rest of the crew has filtered in, Roger looks guilty, and Freddie and John look about ready to commit violent homicide, which was unsurprising for Freddie, but there was something comforting about Deaky wearing the expression too. In less than a week, the whole crew knows, and wherever you go, you feel yourself followed by pitying stares, which won’t go away, no matter how hard you throw yourself into your work.

“You’re working yourself into the ground.” Roger tells you a week later, watching the way your arms tremble as you focus a light, and it takes you a moment to blink blearily at him. “Don’t forget the security chain.” He adds, and you scowl, before looking at the light itself, and hurriedly affix the security chain to the rig. You insist that you’re fine, making your way down the ladder to scoop up another parcan, but you almost immediately drop it. 

“I just need some food.” You try to insist, your hands shaking as you leave the light where it is.

You don’t come out after shows, and it’s not gone unnoticed. The rest of the crew think you’re just dedicated, personable for the most part but prone to bouts of standoffishness.

“Oh you should have seen her on our first tour,” Freddie muses to an enraptured crowd at an afterparty, a few crew members listening with a bright-eyed attention, “that woman risked life and limb for our show.” And he sounds so proud when he says it, but something twists uncomfortably in Roger’s gut.

Cracks don’t show around other people, Roger’s noticed; you’re smile’s bright enough and your voice is loud enough that they don’t see the way your hands shake. Or how tired your eyes are. But then there are moments, you stand as if in the eye of the storm, gaff tape and drill in hand, watching as people follow your instructions without question, and you look up to see Roger tweaking his drums, and the two of you share a look. It’s a little indecipherable, he’s concerned and you’re just... tired. He wants to offer to help, but as soon as the moment arrives, it’s passed, and you’re off to the next task.

The air between the two of you has lost it’s angry tension; after saying your peace, after hearing his apology, there’s no fight left. Just a lingering disappointment, a quiet like the moment after a world-weary sigh. You don’t have to pretend around Roger, you both know he’d see through it if you’d tried.

“You should come get a drink after; you look like you need it.” Roger laughs, but there’s no humour in it. Without missing a beat, you decline, you don’t even bother coming up with an excuse. 

“I’m worried about you.” The tour is almost three weeks in, and you’re asleep against the proscenium arch when he walks in. You wake with a start at the sound of his voice, reaching out for the light you’d been fiddling with before you’d passed out. When you look to him with confusion, he repeats himself slowly. “I’m worried about you; are you sleeping okay?” 

“As if that’s any of your business.” You snapped back, and Roger kept quiet. It only takes him a day to figure out that sleep isn’t really a luxury you allowed yourself; you were the last out every night after bump out, sometimes staying until two in the morning, and from what the crew said, you were always the first up, running through check lists, accident reports, and going over anything that needed maintenance. 

When Freddie asks you to come out with them after a gig, you find it difficult to say no, he helped get you this job after all, but you’re there for barely half an hour before Roger sees you slip out the side door, drink untouched.

John asks if you’re okay one afternoon when you drop a stack of gel frames without warning, jumping almost a foot in the air and looking like you’re about to break into tears from shock, but seems content when you explain you’re just tired. Tired doesn’t even begin to cover how overworked you are.

The night you finally decide to relax a little, bump out having been miraculously fast, you’ve got the next day off. The others cheer you on as you down drink after drink, the alcohol hitting you hard and quickly, and the world gets blurry as you find yourself on the dance floor. It’s easy to drink too much, because for the first time in a long time, you’re relaxed, not worrying about the pretty, dickhead blonde who worries about you when he really shouldn’t. 

You’re drunk enough to admit to yourself that part of you likes the attention he’s giving you, it feels like vindication for the heartache you went through all those years ago. Part of it’s not even vindictive, part of you just likes the way he looks at you, the way his smile made your heart beat just a little faster; you call that part a fucking traitor and have another drink.

You don’t remember leaving the bar, but you come back to your body when you’re leaning against a streetlight for support, halfway through telling someone to fuck off.

“Ya’ not my caretaker, Roger,” you sneer, “you don’t need to look after me or whatever this is. Go help groupies home or to hotel or whatever.” You spit, and push off from the light, turning on your heel, almost topple over, and right yourself.

“Light, that’s the wrong way.” He calls, exasperated, and you turn again, this time actually crashing to the ground and grazing your hand on the way, before you get to your feet. He’s come over to try and help you, but you swat him away.

“You don’t get to call me that.” You stalk ahead of him in the direction he had come from, back toward the hotel, and he follows only a few steps behind.

“Fine, Y/N; you’re legless, let me help.” And after a moment of intense eye contact, in which you try to weigh up your options, you begrudgingly loop your arm through his.

“You’re still on my shit-list.” You inform him, and he hums in acknowledgement. “Why are you doing this?” You follow it up with.

“I’m not the asshole who fucked you over three years ago, and I’m not gonna let you get yourself killed for this show.” He said through gritted teeth, and you just smiled, a little dreamily.

“But what a way to go.” And he came to an abrupt stop. It took you a moment to realise, and looking back, you tugged on his arm to keep him moving. He just frowned at you, a little concerned. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it.”

“If I have to fire you to get you to take a break-” He threatened, and you scoffed, expression turning bitter.

“I’ll drop a light on you.”

“You’ll drop a light on me by accident before then anyways!” He crowed, and your expression fell, contemplative. “Just let me help; what do I have to do to make you actually rest? What do I have to do to prove myself?”