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thebisexualmess-19 · 1 year ago

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SCREAMING, SOBBING ITS THE WHOLE THING OVER AGAIN!

I've Got a Boring Name

Clinic!Wilbur Soot x AFAB Gender Neutral reader PART 4

CW: for swearing, arguing, mentions of death, mentions of sex, political feelings, and the Author's self-projecting. Also unreliable narrator. Oddly enough no sex but Plot.

It had been a few days since that phone call. Currently, you were in a limo driving to the Gala that your boss had thrown you into. Look—maybe being around assholes and supporting an organization that you literally had been excavating their dirty details on—wasn’t your idea of fun. But the four hours spent here equaled one week of paid overtime. You could handle four hours and then go home to your boyfriend and ravish him.

Your outfit was a tad itchy but otherwise tolerable. It was mostly the unfamiliarity with the type of style. The corset snatched your waist and the sleeves reached halfway down your forearm. The metallic lining was soft and elegant.

You had tried talking to Wilbur about attending the gala—or as least as an outfit consultant. (Wilbur seemed like the type to know what was appropriate for such events.) Regardless—he had been so busy that he only really had time to text you good night most nights or send you a funny clip.

Speaking of Wilbur—he had been a tad distant lately. He said it was stuff with work and while you trusted him completely—it was still a bit hard, considering your conversation with Siren. You weren’t upset—you weren’t—but the loss of the relationship left something feeling numb in your chest.

Originally you had cried a little—you had wrapped yourself up in a blanket with a tub of ice cream, a spoon, and some regency drama that made you cry a little harder.

But that was Sunday. Today was Thursday. And Thursday you were sexier than Sunday you. (especially with your outfit) The hypersexualizing of yourself gave you some false confidence to carry on through your night.

The limo pulled to a stop and you thanked the driver. The Gala was being held in the Pandora’s Vault—A museum dedicated to remembering civilian victims of hero battles—but because of the Gala, a new wing was being opened featuring the history of superheroes and their deeds, which is where the gala was being held.

A service worker with dark hair and a flower growing behind her ear pointed you in the right direction and another checked your name for the list. The one marking your name down handed you a little beaded bracelet.

“What is this?” you asked.

“Consider it a ticket that you can be here.” They said noncommittally. A third helped you find your table. Three reporters and the CEO were already sitting down. You thanked the employee and took your seat at your name card.

“Are you the intern?” One guy asked.

“No, I’m from Todd’s branch, he sent me here to be of assistance.”

“With a name like yours, I had thought you would have been prettier.”

“I honestly don’t know how to respond to that.”

The four went on about work things and continued to ignore you. Honestly, fine. You were here for the fun shit that lower-middle-class people couldn’t afford. Like that cheese fondue and chocolate fountains and that tray of finger sandwiches…

You walked over there as casually as you could and grabbed a tiny plate. As you went through the mini snack buffet line, some middle-aged man bumped into you.

“Sorry, sorry.”

You looked up only to be greeted by Mayor Schlatt.

“Oh—uh, Hello Mayor.” You said in an effort to conceal the absolute anarchy that was your emotions right now.

How Schlatt was still mayor was a fucking mystery to you. The guy was usually so drunk he fell off the stage during his own freaking speeches, and the only thing he seemed good for was being a figurehead. But every election year, his charisma won him the title again.

“Hey- whoa wait, you look familiar.” The Mayor said squinting at you.

“I work at a news station, you might have seen me on TV.” This wasn’t false, if you ever were on screen it was usually about stories about lives in the community. However, it wasn’t often that you got recognized. You were usually doing voiceovers and research in the background.

“Oh shit—It’s you—that reporter—“

“Yeah, that’s me.” You said awkwardly. Great. Now the alcoholic mayor knows your name. This was totally getting brought up the Wilbur once you got back.

When you turned away from the table, you noticed many people had turned their heads away from your direction, as if avoiding the fact that they had been staring. Some people whispered to people around them and random people began to make quick glances at you.

Okay. That was weird. Probably because you were talking to the Mayor then. Yeah, that had to be it. However, wherever you walked, the crowd parted ever so slightly. Weird.

Time to check out the exhibit then. You wandered around and saw a few statues in honor of the Dream Team, a few in honor of Rewind and Supreme—But they all seemed fake and superficial. The video recording and the informative excerpts seemed incredibly biased. But the worst of it was that you felt paranoid. The more you wandered through the exhibit the more eyes you felt on your back.

You started making your way towards the restroom—surely you won’t feel watched in there. As you walk into the room, it is mostly a massive mirror with sinks and stalls behind you. Your chest heaved. You certainly felt better in here but the few people walking in and out of the restroom watched you uncomfortably.

Maybe your class status was that obvious? No that couldn’t be it. Why would the mayor remember your name? You looked at the mirror and splashed some water on your face, doing your best to avoid touching your eyes. The amount of time you had spent alone on the matching design around your eyes to your outfit was not worth retouching.

You took a deep breath and ran your hands under some cold water.

“I am perfectly fine. I will be okay. This too shall pass.” you recited in an attempt to calm your increasingly paranoid mind. It seemed to work, and you switched the faucet off. You shut your eyes and inhaled. Just breathe. Inhale, exhale. You opened them again and felt a little better.

Then you noticed one lightbulb in particular short circuting above the mirror. You didn’t think much of it until you heard the sounds of a commotion outside the restroom. You furrowed your brow, Oh the event must be starting. Then you heard a scream and the sounds of shattering glass.

Oh dear god. maybe it might be best to stay in the restroom. The rational part of your mind said. The curious one simply urged you forward.

You were a journalist for a reason.

You crept out of the restroom and poked your head around the corner. There in the center of the room was the entire Syndicate, all four.

At the front stood Zephyrus, his dark wings flared in an obvious sign of don’t fuck with me. To his right stood the Blade, the boar skull as threatening as ever. Behind Zephrys, Stood Apollo the K95 mask and eyes glaring at the crowd.

To Zephyrus’s left stood the one who had mangled up your heart and stomped on it in his boots, Siren. His grin looked just as carnivorous as you remembered it.

“Don’t panic dear citizens.” Siren’s honey voice flowed out. “We have every right to be here as the heroes do.” The crowd seemed to ease a little but they remained on edge. “Now, who’s going to tell me where they are hiding~.” The crowd shifted—the heroes were actually here tonight?

The Blade seemed to be observing the room, picking each and every person apart in detail. After a moment he stepped into the crowd, blades drawn, and stalked through the parting crowd, as if searching for something.

“Oh come on, surely one of you knows where they are?” Siren said playfully, but you knew his question was nothing but playful.

The Blade continued scanning and then he stopped when looking in your direction. He muttered something into his mic, and almost immediately, Siren stopped his taunting of the crowd and whipped his head up in your direction. You scurried around the corner and immediately went back towards the restroom. Nope, not today. Not dealing with this today.

As you stepped back inside your chest heaved. surely he didn’t see you from that far across the room—that was just ridiculous. You recognized the sound of footsteps approaching and quickly ran and stood on top of one of the toilets and locked the stall door. You were not getting caught by the entire Syndicate today. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

The door creaked open and the heavy steps of the Blade and his twin swords tracing the tile were your only signal. Then he started talking.

“—yeah I’m absolutely sure I saw them. I’m looking now.” He huffed and an inaudible voice responded panicked. “Yes I know—Its a setback—continue as planned, I’ll take care of it, you have my word.” The voice seemed semi-appeased and then cut off. You immediately held a hand over your mouth to conceal your breathing.

The Syndicate was looking for you. And they were going to ‘take care of you?’ If taking care was anything like Siren’s definition, you were fucked. Probably more in the figurative sense than literal. You had a boyfriend to think about.

Oh god, your boyfriend. Wilbur. Dear Prime he was going to be so worried about you. Whatever happened, you were going to get back to him. You were going to crawl into his arms and pretend that none of this ever happened and you were going to quit this job.

Surely there were other career opportunities? You could work as a writer or go freelance—Or you could work at that cute little Aquarium that Wilbur had taken you on a date to—you could lay with him in the tunnel that cut through the water, the one where all the fish swam over you and you watched the stingrays swim past—he would hold your hand and you would look at your perfect pretty boy with the dimples and his stupid hipster glasses as the blue-green light washed over the two of you, Oh god were you ever going to see Wilbur again?

“I know you are in there.” The Blade’s voice echoed around the tile. “We have to go.” You didn’t respond. You heard a sigh. “Look I will give you to the count of five to get off that toilet seat and unlock the door, otherwise I’ll break down the door, grab you and go.”

You had half a mind to say “But what if I’m pissing—“ before you heard his counting.

“One.” You bit your lip, The Blade wasn’t one to bluff, and he didn’t make threats—he made promises.

“Two.” This time you heard doors pushing open.

“Three.” He was two doors away from you.

“Four.”

“Wait,” you said. he paused. “What is going on? I’ll unlock the door but please tell me.” You heard him sigh.

“If you value your life, you will open the door and I’ll explain on the way.” You hesitated but cautiously unlocked the stall door.

“Please don’t make me regret this.” You asked. The Blade huffed and picked you up, threw you over his shoulder, and headed back out the door. He immediately began walking towards the exhibit. “You know I can walk myself.” You deadpanned. The Blade simply muttered something.

“I’ve got them. I’m taking them out the west exit. Hurry—you got five minutes.” then he turned to you. “This whole place is a demolition project. And I’d rather not deal with Siren’s bullshit today.” You felt your face go pale.

“Um sorry, I think I misheard you—did you say, demolition?”

“Yeah.”

“…but what does that have to do with me being carried like a sack of potatoes.” The Blade huffed.

“Fastest way to get you out of here safely. Besides, I don’t feel like having Siren up my ass about this.”

You rolled your eyes. Siren. You wanted nothing to do with him right now so maybe getting evacuated by the Blade instead was a stroke of luck on your side.

He charged through barriers at a pace much faster than you would have been able to keep up with. Well, maybe it was good riddance. The sooner you were out of there the better. The blade ran through an emergency exit, one clearly marked ALARM WILL SOUND IF OPENED, but no alarm sounded.

“Daedalus is helping.” the Blade supplied. He proceeded to put you down in the alleyway. and muttered into his comm, “They are secure, Rosethorn you take it from here.” The Blade turned to you. “This is where I leave you. Rosethorn is coming to get you further away from here but first…” He grabbed the bracelet from around your wrist. “I’m taking this.”

“I would ask why but I’m thinking a question like that would delay whatever nefarious plot you lot have planned.”

“You are thinking correctly.”

“I expect answers from one of you at some point.”

“And you will get them.”

“Just not now?”

“Just not now.” The Blade confirmed. You sighed.

“All right—go.” You waved him off. The Blade nodded and entered back where he came. Not much later, the villain Rosethorn showed up. Her tree bark mask and wild dark curly hair had flowers blooming all up in it.

“Well, aren’t you in a pickle.” She said half-jokingly.

“I still don’t know what is going on.” You said.

“I know—I wish I had time to explain it, but time isn’t on our side. C’mon, I gotta get you far away from here.” She held out her hand and you grabbed it. You followed her as she zigzagged through alleyways. Her hand was warm and honestly, the first welcome touch you had experienced in about a week. Going from inconsistent sex with Siren, and then Wilbur, and him being unavailable the past week, it actually shocked you how touch-starved you had become.

You had just gotten to a corner in an alleyway before you heard a loud BOOM echo throughout the city. The walls of the buildings around you shook, and you could see an orangy light reflected through the walls. You looked at Rosethorn panicked. She wasn’t looking at you, but she seemed to be wincing from the sounds coming through her comm.

“Yeah—No I have them—they are fine—Did you all make it out okay?” She paused. “Okay good—Apollo, Nemesis needs you—go find her—Blade did you plant the—okay. Oh shit—Okay okay I’m coming—On my way.” She turned you. “I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Yeah, I get it.” You said. “It’s okay, go help your crew.” Rosethorn stopped and put her hands on your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” God damn it. You felt your eyes water in response to the question.

“Ask me that later?” You asked trying to hold it together–your voice was not going to crack.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll send someone else once we have our shit together—for now you are out of the blast range. Sit tight.” She patted your head. You mustered up a smile and watched her reach toward a potted plant hanging from a window. A vine grew and wrapped itself around her arm before pulling her up. You watched her go until she was around the corner.

You sat down on the grimy alley floor. God this sucked. One night was wrecked once again by Siren.

C’mon, that's not his fault and you know it. your mind chided.

Does it really matter?

We need more time to get over this. It’s okay to feel things but there isn’t much we can do about it now. What can we do right now? You looked up. You had no clue where you were, but you also had your phone on you.

You could text Wilbur. Your mind supplied and you hesitated. Did you really wanna give your boyfriend a heart attack by text? Like, “Hey Wil, I was at a gala and it exploded, I got carried out by the most physically threatening of the syndicate but I’m okay now!”

Yeah… Maybe not the best plan. You buried your head into your arms and tried focusing on your breathing. The place you had just been in had exploded, you could hear police sirens getting closer to the scene and ambulances. God–was everyone in there dead? You were just been in a room full of people, full of lives that were just snuffed out like it didn't even matter. You wanted to cry but you weren't out of the woods yet. Your adrenaline was spiking and you couldn't bring yourself to cry right now.

The sounds of police chatter and sirens pulling up what the only thing echoing throughout the buildings. You heard footsteps coming from behind you and immediately stood up and got onto the defensive. You may be having a crisis but that just meant you weren't in the right headspace to consider going down without a fight.

You heard the footsteps coming from behind you and you immediately ducked and spun around before punching the person in the gut.

“Ow fuck!” You looked at the person (who was now doubled over on the ground) and at first you recognized the curly brown mop on their head–

“Who–” You started before they looked up and you were met with the blue scarf around the guy's face. “Prime, Siren–you could have warned me it was you!”

“You have a killer right hook you know that?” he said still doubled over in pain on the ground.

“You scared me half to death!” you protested.

“No–I deserved that–just give me a minute-” He said. You pinched the bridge of your nose. A piece of your mind celebrated for having punched the guy–justice for being a dick it said gleefully, and you couldn't stop the tiny satisfied smile on your face. Eventually, he got up.

“Thats gonna leave a bruise,” he said in an attempt to break the ice.

“Yeah, I bet–are you going to conveniently fill me in on what happened or am I supposed to connect the dots myself?” You asked folding your arms. Siren frowned and looked in your direction. He seemed to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

“Why were you in there.”

“I got invited?” You said a tad sarcastically. “Which I think is a more accurate reason than why you were there–because I’m fairly certain you weren't invited.” Siren ran a hand through his hair frustrated.

“You had no business being there–I worried you were–”

“Worried I was what, Siren.”

“Worried you were dead-–is that a solid enough answer for you?” he spat back at you. You paused and took a step back.

“I’m sorry I made you worried.” You said steadily. “But it's not like you have any reason to be worried. No feelings involved right?” The venom in your tone was lethal.

“Not right now–you almost died, do you have any idea–”

“No– I don't because no one will tell me anything.” you snapped. “So, sorry for not having any fucking clue.”

“You know for someone so smart you can really–”

“What, I can really what.”

“Quit cutting me off.”

“Quit lying to me.”

“Lying to you?”

“Lying to me!” you snapped. “You keep lying by omission by withholding information from me, and I am sick of it! You lied and now all those people are dead or worse-”

“Well, they aren’t dead if that is what you are worried about.”

“Please–It exploded Siren–not even the foundation is still standing.”

“Even if they were dead, which they aren't, by the way, The Heroes Association wouldnt even care.”

“How does that make you any different?” You said quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“You say you want to get your point across but you do it at the expense of others—that many people did not deserve to die for the price of equality.”

“You don't get it—everyone in there has wanted the syndicate dead.” Siren said defiantly.

“Oh wow—so someone wants you dead so you kill them first?”

“Every single one of those people have literally put donated money to the Hero’s Association to get us killed. I’ve seen the files.”

“Why didn't you just send me those? I could have done something with them!” You pleaded.

“And then what would have happened? People these days are so desensitized that it would not have mattered what you put into your report—no one would have cared to do anything—especially because the rich could have paid to get it removed. They throw enough money at anything and it will go away—and that means you too.”

“What the fuck does that mean.” You growled. You were so angry and worked up you couldn't see anything but red.

“You sent that sample to your boss—why do you think it came back warped and destroyed? Why do you think the CEO of your company invited you tonight—instead of hey, I don't know—your higher-up Todd?”

“How do you know it came back destroyed.” You said

“We’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while now—and so have the Hero's Association. That destruction was for you—we’ve been trying for months to keep you safe—and somehow—you end up right in the trap they have been setting for you.” He ran another hand through his hair. “They wanted you dead.” He said, the bitterness leaving his mouth.

“I—“

“What nothing to say for once?” he taunted.

You looked back up at him, this was getting too much. First, the guy practically burned the relationship to the ground and now—

“What did I do wrong.” You asked pathetically.

“I can’t— wait what?”

“I—you—You are mad at me. What did I do to upset you.”

“Upset me—?”

“Upset you!” You snapped back stabbing an accusatory finger in his chest. You could feel tears forming in the corner of your eyes but crying would be held for later.

“First you don’t talk to me for eight freaking months. Not a note, not a message. Not even a raised eyebrow. I already thought I had pissed you off when you had to take me home that night but there was nothing stopping you from using your voice to tell me to walk home myself.”

Siren pursed his lips.

“Then, the first time I reach out to you--In eight months—you have such a stick up your ass that you give one-word and clipped responses like you have to watch what you say around me because if you said what is actually on your mind you would get your ass kicked.”

The tears were threatening to fall down your face now.

“So when I ask you, to try and do one actual halfway decent favor for me—and actual favor—You can't deliver on that favor.”

Siren winced.

“And instead of telling me like a rational adult—like I thought you could be capable of, ‘oh hey I tried doing the one thing you asked of me but we came through with these problems x y and z’ you instead decided that I didn't deserve to know that I was walking into a fucking death trap.”

The tears were actually falling down your face now.

“And you treat me like I’m stupid—Well sorry I can't see every fucking outcome—Guess that makes me an irredeemable moron right? I’ll do better next time—because even the stupidest of idiots would have figured out long ago that you were never going to give me information in exchange for sex. Anyone would have asked to hear the files first—or see them before the sex and then exchange it for the sources..” Siren opened his mouth to say something but you were running on anger and pent-up bitterness from the past week. “Well, that makes me two things, a whore and an idiot right?”

Siren’s mouth was agape.

“I didn’t say you were an idiot—“

“Oh well, you sure as fuck implied it!” You snapped back. “So—yeah, upset you. And everyone thinks I’m dead—including my place of work and I can’t go back because they send something worse after me to make sure the job is done—did I get that right?” You asked miserably, your voice cracking on the final line. “So not only am I unemployed by circumstance, It’s all my fault any of this happened because I was being naive.” You turned away from him. “It was stupid to hope any of this could have possibly changed anyways-so hey! you are right on one count!” The sarcastic bitterness was off-put by the tears rapidly falling down your face.

“I’m just a stupid naive reporter who fell in love with you and got my heart broken along with my job and the only project I’ve been working on in my spare time for the past 2 years”

“…No, hey you aren’t—“

“Don’t bother.” You muttered wiping the tears off your face with your wrist. “Sorry for misunderstanding the relationship we had. I get it—it’s over—And if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go.” You said with enough bitterness to spoil any hope of forgiveness on your end.

“hey—whoa, wait—“ Siren sounded panicked.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, okay? Please—“ he pleaded.

“Bit late for that.”

“—Let me walk you home at least.”

“Fuck off.”

“Look—at least I can keep you safe from—“

“Siren, I wouldn’t trust you with my name, much less my safety.” You said angrily. “Now if you fuck off, I’m going home.”

“Wait.”

You froze in your steps. Was he actually using his voice on you? Your rage bloomed and began burning you from the inside out. It was white hot and consuming your very being.

“Please, come here.” You felt yourself turn around and walk towards him. You refused to look at his eye line. This asshole could rot for all the pain he was putting you through.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m sorry—I didn’t think—You, have every right to be pissed off at me and I—oh god—and I’m making it even worse aren’t I?”

You didn’t dignify his question with a response. You’ve said everything you needed to, and now he could suffer in your silence.

“I am, aren’t I?” he asked running a hand through his hair. “First with Tommy, now with you—god I’m such a—“ You stared up at him.

“Who is Tommy.” You demanded. Siren paused—caught. You eyed him, closely. You could tell earlier in the dark but now that he was closer, he looked familiar, like someone you knew…

“No one.—Tommy? I didn’t say Tommy—Whose Tommy?”

“Oh no, I heard you.” You said, looking him up and down, comparing things in your mind. “You said Tommy.”

The soft curly brown hair, the jawline, the dimples that drove you insane, the callouses on his fingers, the curve of his smile—and now Tommy? The same name as Wilbur’s younger brother? You stepped back a little, and softly asked, as if scared of the response you were going to get.

“…Wilbur?” Siren’s mouth opened and closed looking like a goldfish.

“…No?” His response wasn't enough for you, Your brow set in determination, and you reached towards his voice modifier and unclasped it. Siren backed away a little but didn’t stop you.

“Is that you Wil?” You asked softly. You felt so fragile. Siren winced and then ran a hand through his hair. He opened his mouth and the voice that left his mouth wasn’t Siren.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

It was Wilbur. Your sweet loving and perfect Wilbur—He pulled the voice modifier back and reclasped it.

“Look I’m sure you have questions and you definitely deserve some answers and some freaking space, but my house isn’t that far from here, and I don’t think you should be walking home alone to your apartment tonight.”

Next >

#wilbur soot x reader #insane #so good #holy fuck #AAAAAAAA #slayed the boots house down houston I’m deceased #Died dead #explodes

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oliverreedmasterass · 2 years ago

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Words: 4k

Synopsis: My interpretation of what happened backstage before the guys took the stage in Tucson, slaying the house down boots houston I’m deceased

Warnings: language, drinking

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“Shit,” Josh cursed as he sifted through their tote bag of rhinestones, face glue, and eyeshadow palettes. “We have so much left over.”

“We could auction it off for charity,” Danny suggested as he peered over Josh’s shoulder at their stash. “I know for a fact that someone would buy that.”

“Why would they do that?” Jake asked from the greenroom couch with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t think you understand how obsessed some of our fans are,” Danny replied.

“Eesh,” Jake said.

“I can’t let it go to waste,” Josh seemed troubled. “I paid good money for those rhinestones.”

“You didn’t pay for those rhinestones, I did,” Jenn corrected him as she entered the greenroom. “And they were dirt cheap.”

“Oh,” Josh mumbled.

“I do think we should go all in for tonight though,” Jenn suggested. “Just to end the tour with a bang, you know?”

“I’m in,” Danny was quick to agree. Out of the band, he was the most willing to put on stage makeup. In his eyes, it was a fun way for him to stand out from behind his drum kit. Plus, he felt pretty fucking hot when his eyes were darkened with the eye shadow.

Josh gave one more look down at the tote bag and shrugged.

“Why not?” he decided. “I think Jenn’s up for the challenge.”

“You bet I am,” Jenn grinned.

“What are we talking about?” Sam asked as he plodded into the room, a bottle of water and his phone in his hands.

“Going all out with the stage makeup,” Danny caught him up to speed.

“Ah,” Sam replied. “Count me in.”

“You want me to do your makeup too?” Jenn was floored. Sam had never expressed any interest in her doing anything with his face. She had heard him complain to Danny before that he put way too much effort into his skincare routine to have makeup ruin his pores.

“Sure,” Sam said like it was nothing. “I don’t want to feel left out.”

At that, everyone in the room turned to look at Jake. He was scrolling through his phone but looked up when he noticed the silence.

“What?” he asked.

“You can’t be the only one out there without a little makeup,” Josh told him.

“You guys have your fun,” Jake waved them off and snapped his head back down to study his phone. Josh, Danny, and Sam all exchanged disappointed looks but decided not to prod Jake any further. When he had his mind made up about something, it was set in stone.

“We’d better get started,” Jenn broke the silence.

“I’ll go first,” Josh volunteered, because he felt like his rhinestone time was something sacred between him and Jenn.

While Jake continued to direct all of his attention to whatever was on his phone, Danny grabbed his guitar from its case and plugged it into the amp they always requested on their rider. Near him, Sam opened his storage trunk with a grunt and started to mix a drink from his “On-the-Go Tiki Bar”. Danny started to pluck out the opening to “Broken Bells” while Josh settled in a folding chair and waited for Jenn to get her supplies ready.

“What are you thinking for me, Jenn?” he asked her. Jenn studied his face, trying to envision what would look best on him.

“I think we should actually put the rhinestones on hold for tonight.”

“Daring, I like it.”

Danny repositioned himself so he could get a good view of what Jenn was doing while he continued to mess around on his guitar. Jake took a brief second to smirk at him when he started to play a Cream song but, just as quickly, he was looking back down at his phone. Sam, with his mixed drink in hand, tried to get a peek at what Jake was doing by very non-discreetly leaning over the arm of the couch to place his face between the phone and Jake’s eyes. Jake slammed his phone into the break between the couch cushions and glared at Sam.

“Don’t look at my phone,” he scolded his younger brother.

“I just want to know what’s so important,” Sam defended himself.

“None of your business, that’s what,” Jake replied.

“Fine,” Sam huffed. He moved away from the couch slowly and, when his back was turned to Jake, Jake slid his phone back out from the cushions and started to retype his password. He called out in shock when Sam quickly turned on his heel, spilling his drink everywhere, and jumped back to Jake’s side to snatch the phone out of his hand.

“Give it back!” Jake sprung to his feet and started to chase after Sam. Danny, making sure he was out of their way, began picking out the Benny Hill theme on his guitar.

“You guys better not bump into Jenn,” Josh warned his brothers from his folding chair.

“Disconnect from the source!” Sam called over his shoulder while he ran in circles around the green room, Jake on his tail.

“Samuel!” Jake’s tone was stern. Unfortunately he wasn’t their father, so it had little to no effect on Sam. Sam started to prance around and Jake grunted out in frustration that he wasn’t able to catch up to his pest of a brother. When had Sam gotten so fast? Or was it that Jake had just gotten slower? Jake didn’t want to think too hard about that. “Please,” he forced out through grit teeth. Sam stationed himself so Danny was in between him and Jake and shook his head.

“What is it? Were you googling yourself again? Or are you looking into Imagine Dragons tickets?”

Danny started to play “It’s Time” which earned him a hefty smack from Jake.

“Hey, I’m not the one who took your phone,” he frowned at Jake.

“I would have done that to Sam instead if I could reach him,” Jake apologized.

Sam took advantage of Jake’s moment of distraction and slyly entered the rest of his passcode, unlocking his phone. Jake looked past Danny to Sam and groaned when he saw a large grin spread across Sam’s face as he studied Jake’s phone.

“Oh my god,” Sam finally spoke, letting the phone drop down to his side. Jake lurched past Danny and grabbed it back from Sam, who had started to laugh and shake his head.

“What is it?” Danny looked back to ask Sam.

“This idiot,” Sam motioned towards Jake, “this macho man who turned down Jenn’s kind offer was just Googling ‘eyeliner tips.’”

Even though Jenn was in the middle of painting a golden line under Josh’s right eye, he whirled around in his seat to face his twin. Jake’s eyes snapped to the ground and he jammed his phone into his pants pocket.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” he excused himself, and hustled out of the room.

“What the fuck was that?” Josh asked after Jake left.

“He did want to get his makeup done,” Danny explained. “He was just embarrassed.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is, though,” Josh said. “I mean, you and I wear it all the time, Sam is going to tonight as well, it’s not weird at all.”

“It’s not really his thing though,” Danny countered.

“It used to be,” Sam pointed out. “When he was in the thick of his pirate obsession, he leapt at every opportunity to put eyeliner on.”

“That’s right, he wore it for a few gigs and photoshoots,” Josh recalled.

“Well, people change,” Jenn gave her two cents. “Maybe he feels disconnected from that part of his life so he’s trying to ease back into it.”

“I guess,” Sam said. “I still don’t understand why he had to be so secretive.”

Jenn leaned away from Josh after she finished drawing the last golden line on his face and admired her work.

“That looks nice,” she congratulated herself. Josh turned to study his reflection in the mirror and, after taking in the new look, beamed back at Jenn.

“Good work, I look like a ray of sunshine.”

“That’s what I was going for.”

Josh rose to his feet with a grunt and pointed towards the door.

“I’m gonna try to find Jake and get him back here.”

Everyone agreed that was a good idea, so Josh disappeared down the hallway out of sight. The room settled in its silence and then Jenn checked her watch and bugged her eyes at the time.

“Danny, do you want to get over here?” Jenn motioned for him. Danny eyed the cable that was connected from the amp to his guitar and seemed to contemplate whether he could bring the guitar to the chair without it unplugging. He gave it a shot and plopped into the chair with satisfaction, testing out a loud chord that rang through the room.

“I’m gonna play while you work, if that’s okay,” Danny told Jenn. “I’ve got some pent up nerves I need to work through before we get out there.”

“Do what you need to do,” Jenn told him. “Just make sure you stay still.”

Sam wandered to find another chair and brought it next to Jenn’s side so he could get a front row view of Danny’s makeup routine.

“Can you make it extra dark tonight?” Danny put in a request.

“You got it, bud,” Jenn nodded.

“Wow,” Sam breathed out as Jenn passed the first layer of black eyeshadow over the top of Danny’s eyelid. “That stuff is pigmented.”

“How do you know about pigments?” Jenn arched an eyebrow while she continued to work.

“I have a sister,” Sam replied simply.

“And a refined taste for quality eyeshadow palettes,” Danny poked fun. Sam faked a frown in Danny’s direction, which he returned with his tongue out.

Sam continued to watch Jenn work her magic on Danny and, with each brush stroke over his eyes and rhinestone glued beneath his waterline, Sam started to feel a building anticipation to have his own turn in the folding chair. He just wished that Jake felt the same way.

***

Josh was glad that it only took him a couple of minutes to find Jake. That was the perk of not only being his twin, but also spending almost every second of the day with him: the guy was pretty predictable. Josh knocked on the stall Jake was hiding in and made sure his voice was soft and soothing.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked through the door. He could hear Jake jump in surprise.

“I want you to go back to the greenroom and throw something at Sam for me,” Jake grunted after some thought.

“Come on, Jake, this is silly,” Josh ignored him. “If you want to wear eyeliner, you should have said so. We just want you to be happy is all.”

“I’d be happy if you respected my privacy,” Jake still sounded frustrated.

“Okay, Sam taking your phone wasn’t cool.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“But I’m sure he’ll apologize to you.”

“Josh, can I just have some space?”

Josh knew that it was best to clear the room for Jake, as much as he wanted to try and console him.

“Yeah, of course.”

He made his way back out of the men’s room and shook his head. Jake could be a handful sometimes.

Josh returned back to their room, running through all of the things he could have said to Jake that probably would have been better than what he opted for, and stopped in the doorway. Sam was sitting in the folding chair now, looking up at the ceiling while grasping onto his legs, tears pouring down his cheeks as Jenn passed some gold eyeliner under his eye.

“You’re doing good, Sam,” Danny tried to comfort his friend.

“This feels so weird,” Sam mumbled. “I take it back, maybe I don’t want any makeup.”

“I’m almost done,” Jenn promised.

Sam’s eyes looked to be scanning every inch of the tiled ceiling to keep himself distracted while Jenn traced the line out to the corner of his eye and flicked up.

“I don’t feel the wet thing anymore, are you done?” Sam’s eyes looked back at Jenn and Danny. Danny studied Sam’s face and let out a chuckle.

“That looks pretty good, Sam. You should have done this a long time ago.”

“You think?” Sam gave him a goofy grin back.

Josh joined their side and took in Sam’s new look. It was subtle in comparison to Danny’s dark eyeshadow and ruby rhinestones combination, but it somehow made Sam look even more ethereal than he usually did, walking around like a Jesus lookalike and all.

“We look so celestial,” Josh commented. It was Sam’s turn to take a look in the mirror and, after gazing at himself a little bit too long, he looked back at Josh and nodded.

Danny started to play “Here Comes the Sun”.

“I’m not done yet,” Jenn said over Danny’s impression of George Harrison.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. Jenn uncapped her tube of mascara and held it out to Sam, who cocked his head to the side. “Um?” he responded.

“It’ll make your eyes really pop,” Jenn explained.

“You never give me mascara,” Josh pouted.

“Just let me have this one thing,” Jenn turned back to quiet Josh, who immediately sealed his mouth shut. Sam wasn’t arguing or running for the hills, so Jenn leaned forward and brushed the wand under his long eyelashes. It would have been a crime if she left those things alone. When she finished, Danny spoke her mind.

“Good call, Jenn,” he said.

“Am I pretty?” Sam said, starting to bat his eyelashes.

“No! Don’t!” Jenn was quick to stop him. “It hasn’t dried yet, you’re gonna ruin everything and then we’ll have to start all over.”

That made Sam stop pretty fast.

“How did it go with Jake?” Danny finally seemed to realize that Josh was back in the room.

“Well, he’s not here, so not great,” Josh replied. “I think he needs more time to cool off.”

***

Once Jake heard Josh shut the men’s room door, he peeked out from the stall. He knew that he was overreacting to everything, but he really didn’t appreciate how much Sam made him look like a fool back in their room. The only reason he had Googled eyeliner tips was because he was curious, that was all. Hearing everyone talk about stage makeup made him feel nostalgic for the days when he owned his own eyeliner that he tucked away in his desk drawer, penciling it quickly under his eyes whenever he felt especially bold. But that was a solid six years ago, and a lot had changed since then. Their fanbase had easily quadrupled in size, and he was worried that people would be especially vocal about how awful he looked if he couldn’t rock the eyeliner like he used to.

But the reception with his haircut had been overwhelmingly positive, and Jake had even started experimenting with different hoops to wear on stage, which people seemed to enjoy. He could feel himself testing the limits of his appearance, trying to reinvent what the modern day rockstar was technically supposed to look like. It was just that he knew, deep down, that he was worried he would look like a knockoff member of Maneskin. That band was too hot for their own good; he didn’t want to come across like a copycat.

Jake made his way to the line of mirrors above the sinks and studied his face. He had shaved the night earlier because his mustache still wasn’t growing in the way he wanted it to, so he looked nearly identical to his 2016 self, shorter hair and all. The longer he looked, the more he could picture himself out on the stage with eyeliner. In his gut, he could feel it starting to become less of a want, and more of a need.

“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself. He was going to have to be sneaky and fast.

It was a good thing that his band members were the least observant people alive. Jake managed to army crawl back into the room, steal Jenn’s makeup bag from literally under her nose, and slither back out into the hallway without a soul noticing him. It definitely helped that they were all crowded around Sam, who was acting as though he was being tortured by Jenn as she put on his rhinestones. In that moment, Jake was grateful that Sam could be a massive drama queen sometimes.

Jake sprung back to his feet and hustled to the bathroom, carrying the bag under his arm to stay discreet around the numerous roadies and stage hands who were rushing around the backstage area. He forced the door shut behind him and scanned around, finding a trash can that he could tuck under the doorknob to insure that no one else came in.

“Hello, old friend,” Jake greeted the eyeliner pencil as he pulled it out from the bag.

It was time to go back to his roots.

Jake was disappointed by just how out of practice he was with the pencil. It had seemed so simple when he was younger, but he had to take into account that he wore it a lot back then. Jake started with the lower lash line of his right eye since that was usually the easiest part, but ticked when he accidentally smeared the black line downwards, making him look more like a raccoon than a rockstar. He fumbled around in the bag and heaved out a sigh of relief when he found Jenn’s makeup wipes. For a second there, he was convinced he was going to have to return to the greenroom with his tail in between his legs and his makeup all smudged to beg for help.

He wiped the slate clean and steadied the side of his hand on his cheekbone to give it a second try.

“You’re a pirate,” he whispered in encouragement. “Be the pirate.”

This time around, muscle memory must have clicked for Jake because he successfully drew the pencil over his waterline without a single tear. In case it was a fluke, Jake quickly moved to the top of his eye and, just as easily, drew a second line right above his lashes.

“Ha!” he couldn’t help but call out in glee as he checked his progress in the mirror. The old Jake was coming back, and it was nice to see him.

Jake was proud of how effortlessly he was able to get his other eye done, and he couldn’t help but flash finger guns at his reflection because he was really feeling himself.

“I don’t need Jenn to do this for me,” Jake told himself. “I’m the makeup expert, not Josh, not Danny, not stupid Sam. Me.”

He knew he was short on time, so he tossed the eyeliner back into Jenn’s bag, packed up the makeup wipes, and carefully removed the garbage can from the doorknob. A part of him wanted to continue sneaking around until he had to go out on stage, but he also knew that it was better to just own up to what he had done.

So he bounded back to the green room.

***

“Do you think I should look for him?” Danny asked around the room. “We need to take the stage soon.”

“He’ll be out there, he’s just going through something right now,” Josh said. When Jake asked for space, Josh always let Jake come to him when he was ready. “He’ll come back when he wants to.”

“I hope so,” Danny looked at the doorway again with worry. Jake had outbursts every so often, but the music always came first, so if they ever got into an argument backstage, he usually let it slide pretty fast. This time around though he was gone for a lot longer than usual, and Danny was starting to believe that Jake had left and caught the first flight back to Nashville to start his solo career.

“I can look for him,” Jenn offered. She was in the middle of cleaning up her work station, but stopped, turning around in a full circle. “Where did my makeup bag go?” she asked.

“I saw it on the table not too long ago,” Josh said.

“That’s what I thought too,” Jenn mumbled. “It’s not there anymore.”

“Did you take it, Sam?” Josh turned to his brother.

“No, I did not take it, Josh,” Sam responded, his hand snapping up to mess around with the rhinestones Jenn had glued near the corner of his eyes.

“Don’t touch those,” Jenn took a brief pause from her search to coach Sam. “The glue isn’t great. It doesn’t take a whole lot to pull those off.”

“Oops,” Sam said, letting his hands flop back to his sides.

“Maybe I put it in the travel case,” Jenn thought aloud, returning back to the missing makeup bag. “It’s just so weird, I’m usually so good about keeping track of everything. It’s almost like someone snuck it out when we weren’t looking.”

“That’s because that’s exactly what happened.”

Jenn, Danny, Sam, and Josh all snapped their heads towards the doorway and gawked at the sight of Jake, who was cockily leaning on the frame, tossing Jenn’s makeup bag from hand to hand, gazing at all of them with his darkened eyes.

“My god, Jake,” Josh was the first to find his words. “You’ve still got it.”

“You bet your ass I’ve still got it,” Jake retorted as he handed the bag back to Jenn. “It was bold of you all to assume that I wouldn’t want in on the fun.”

Jenn finally got a good look at the job Jake had done and waved her hand in front of his face to get his attention. He twisted around to look at her.

“Can I help you clean that up?” she softly asked. “I think it would look good if it was smudged.”

Jake hated admitting it, but after giving himself another quick look in the mirror, he realized that Jenn was right. His lines were a bit crooked in some places, as if he had actually been a pirate trying to apply the black lines on the choppy sea.

“Yeah, okay,” he sighed. He really did want to look his best, even if it meant temporarily coming down from his high horse. He threw himself back into the folding chair and could feel Josh, Danny, and Sam’s eyes all on him as Jenn pressed a pencil brush against his lids and swished it back and forth, packing the dark color towards the corner of his eyes.

“Do you want some rhinestones?” she asked with hope when she was done.

“No,” Jake was quick to shut that idea down. He had a very specific vision of how he wanted to look on the stage, and rhinestones were not a part of that image. “I will switch these out though,” he added in an attempt to not hurt Jenn’s feelings, pointing at his earrings. “Got anything good on hand?”

“I’ve got a pair I’ve been wanting you to try,” Jenn sounded unbothered. She reached back into her bag and retrieved a ziploc bag that contained a pair of impressive-sized, clunky golden hoops. Jake gazed at them in admiration.

“Those look great.”

Jenn helped him fasten them on and then Jake stood back to his feet so he could look around at his bandmates. He had to admit that they all looked really good. Even Sam, as much as he looked out of his element, and as much as Jake despised his guts in that moment.

“I think we’ve never looked better,” he decided.

“It is a good way to finish off this tour from hell,” Josh agreed once he was done taking in Jake’s appearance. The shorter hair, bigger hoops, freshly shaven face, and eyeliner practically made him look like a different person. He looked confident and happy, which was more than enough to satisfy Josh.

“Amen to that,” Danny commented. “Five shows left.”

“Let’s give them a night they’ll never forget,” Sam looked around at his bandmates. “I’m gonna slay for my besties.”

“Please never talk again,” Danny patted Sam on the shoulder as he moved to put his guitar away.

Jenn watched the four boys do their final prep before going out on stage and beamed. She was one fucking brilliant makeup artist.

#greta van fleet #gvf #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #dreams in gold #fanfiction #this idea has been eating me alive all week

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