#patters0n

[himbohotel]

☎ for either of The Boyz

Put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muses phone:

NAME: Bossman

RINGTONE: Guns 'n Roses--Paradise City

PICTURE: 

LAST TEXT RECEIVED:[txt] is2g if ur l8 again

LAST TEXT SENT: [txt] omw!!! traffics KILLER

NAME: Guitarboy

RINGTONE: Tears for Fears--Everybody wants to Rule the World

PICTURE: 

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: [txt] wwydm?

LAST TEXT SENT: [txt] Can't you ever text normally, you absolute Cro-Magnon?

[himbohotel]

if this is it, this is where i want to be. i mean not here, but with you. you’re where i want to be. for reginald

The shine of getting to perform at the Orpheum is only eclipsed by the fact that Caleb apparently still held their souls in his glittery grasp. Another jolt rocks through them, and Reggie groans weakly, back arched in deep-seated pain. Worse than the amp in the rain, worse than his thickest bass string snapping during a wicked sesh and leaving a bloody welt on his thigh; worse than getting rejected by TJ Carmichael behind the bleachers during an intense makeout session.

Cheerleaders, man.

Face pale enough to make the blotches on his cheeks look worryingly frightening, Reggie attempts to pull himself up using the couch and gives up halfway, leaning against a rough cushion and the rest of his body practically a puddle. This jolt left a lingering hurt that's still pinging through his system, and he can tell without looking that the rest of his band (well, the ghostly ones) are feeling it too. Beads of sweat gather at his temples and slide down his cheek as he just breathes.

The jolts are getting worse each and every time. Just how much longer will they have to endure it before...well...before.

He's scared. He's absolutely terrified. He--they've been given another chance at their dreams, and this is how it's going to end? Huddled in pain on the floor of Julie's music studio after delivering the most kick-ass performance in Orpheum history? His eyes feel itchy and wet, and his vision blurs with unshed tears that fall when Luke begins to talk, his voice a mere whisper as he talks about being here with them facing their very real, absolute end.

❛ Luke-- ❜ Reggie's voice cracks and no one makes fun of it. There's so much he wants to say--so much he should say, but nothing is coming to him. It's not fair. It's not fair. Luke was meant to be a superstar. And it absolutely blows that their story has to end like this, once more on the edge of great. Straining with the last of his strength, Reggie reaches over to touch Luke's hand and managing to hook his pinkie against the other's before his will gave up. ❛I--same. Same, dude. ❜ He sniffles in the dark, chin wobbling with the effort to hold in his sobs. If this is the last time they are together, he doesn't want to send them off with memories of his crying. No. He'd rather them remember him as he was: happy-go-lucky until the very end.

[himbohotel]

❛ Does this mean we can do a country song now? ❜ Listen! He's already got ideas!

@patters0n