#taking a joke for a smaller tumbler audience and making it even smaller

[minimightymina]

People in Love Nikki( a dress up game) 🤝 Calroy Cruller (a piece of cake with legs)

Dressing in your fanciest pants to destroy a man

oh man this guy is pissing me off so bad i think im going to (remembers all acts of violence are impossible due to the backlash caused by the Blood Curse) put on my fanciest shoes to humiliate him

[ggukkiedae]

Troublemaker

yoonmi, hannah, and seri’s showcase of trouble, their collaboration album (what happened, and what they wore)

italics are spoken in english; everything was prepared and done according to community quarantine guidelines

the showcase starts with “that’s a no no”

the stage is dark and the lights flash on at the first beat of the drum revealing the three girls

you can hear cheers from specially when yoonmi starts rapping

the music at the end then transitions from that’s a no no’s outro to “not that type’s” intro

as soon as the number ends, the light fades back in to show three smiling and slightly panting girls

jin walks on stage with a mic and script in one hand and three tumblers

“wah, you kids did so well! you must have practiced so hard considering you forgot to put these out here before the show started”

the three girls laugh at him but gratefully take their own personal tumblers from him while he officially begins hosting the show

“everyone, welcome to troublemaker! today, i’m not bts’s jin, i’m the royals’ mc jin. let me introduce to you our three girls. we have bts’s miya, nct’s hannah, and txt’s seri! do you kids have a group introduction?”

yoonmi and hannah immediately turned to seri who laughed but placed her tumbler down next to the stool that was placed behind her

“2, 3” “hi, we’re royals”

“i’m our leader seri, this is our producer miya, and our choreographer hannah unnie”

the four of them sat down while cheering could be heard in the background

“it’s nice to see you finally on stage when your album has been released for a week now. why did you choose to wait for today instead of promoting on music shows?”

“well, we just thought that it would be nice to make it a little more special by having just one time performing since this is pretty new”

“also hannah unnie didn’t want to clash with wayv’s promotion period!” “hey, seri said this was a good birthday gift for beomgyu!”

seri let out a playful sigh and turned to jin who was chuckling “this is why i became leader”

“it makes sense. now that you can finally perform your stages, how do you feel? let’s hear from each one of you. hannah?”

“It feels amazing! i love the neos, but this is something different. there’s just a different feel when you’re acting sexy with people of a different gender and people of your own gender, you know?”

there was a yell of “sexy!” in the crowd which made hannah laugh “thanks, nana! moving on, miya?”

“this is really cool! i’ve never actually done a concept like this before, so it was exciting trying something new.”

“to be doing a unit album with hannah unnie and miya is interesting. i’ve seen their sm station before, and it looked pretty cool. i’m pretty honored to be doing this with them”

jin smiled at them “and i’m going to assume we’re not talking about the production process because you’ll have those up on your channel?”

“straight off the script, oppa” hanah smirked which made jin snort

“right, right, we’re making this as quick as possible because of all the performances. how about this, which of the performances are you looking forward to the most?”

yoonmi smiled “bicycle, of course! it’s a style new to all of us, and it’s bound to surprise everyone! i believe only five other people in here have seen it aside from us and our dancers?”

“that’s right… personally, though, i can’t wait for our bonus tracks. as someone who’s more into vocals than anything, i think it would be a nice way to show ours off. unnie, how about uou?”

“well, i’m personally looking forward to our unit stages. especially me and seri’s. it’s our first time working together, so that’s pretty exciting”

“speaking of your unit stages, it’ll be up soon, right? anything we can expect?”

“the songs will be quite familiar” yoonmi winked and stood up “but, before that, we have two songs to perform”

hannah stood next “our second is something you may remember we performed in mama along with “not that type””

seri smiled “but the first is a little something we hope can make you feel stronger than anyone else out there. “you think!””

jin asked the audience for a round of applause and ran off stage when the lights went off. as soon as the light went on, the girls performed “you think” and “helicopter”

after helicopter ended, a vcr starts playing showing the behind of the showcase production. it showed yoonmi discussing the stage setting and how everything is going to happen and appear. hannah is discussing with the performance team about positioning and entrances and exits. seri is talking to the audio team about the mics and in ears as well as to the rest of the staff about the program flow

when the three girls appear on stage, a mellower melody plays. it’s “you never know”

they pick up the mood with “celebrity” a few moments after before the lights turn off

then a familiar melody plays. lights appear, and it’s yoonmi and hannah on stage. they perform txt’s “can’t we just leave the monster alive”

the txt boys in the audience were focused on by the screen and they were getting all surprised because “that’s our song?”

lights went off then turned on to show seri on stage instead of hannah, and yoonmi holding a guitar. they performed nct dream’s “puzzle piece”

the nct dream boys are seen lipsyncing along and you can see yoonmi accidentally look up and make eye contact with haechan who pulled a face (she almost started laughing)

next yoonmi disappeared, and hannah took her spot. they performed bts’s “lost”

the bts boys were show cheering while jungkook and jimin did the dance in smaller movements in sync with the two girls

when everything finished, yoonmi walked onto stage with jin

jin was clapping “wow, you girls did lost better than i did”

seri shook her head in laughter while hannah laughed at him “you’re being way too kind, oppa”

jin walks them over to the stools yoonmi and seri sat on earlier, now with two more extra for all four of them to sit

“it’s nice to see you cover each other’s songs. what made you girls think of doing this?”

yoonmi poked seri in the side to get her to explain

“well, our groups have different concepts, and we decided to try each other out because we were trying out a new concept for the album anyway. why not try a few other ones?”

“it looks like our lovely audience enjoyed it, as well?” yoonmi gestured over to their friends.

hannah laughed and pointed at the six boys making fun of mark “i think someone’s a little upset his girlfriend didn’t perform a song he was part off”

yoonmi laughed a little and waved sheepishly at her boyfriend

jin laughed and looked towards the audience “let me introduce to the fans watching our live audience. on seri’s hand, we have the boys of txt, and three of her friends from jyp.”

the camera turns to the five boys who started to bounce in their chairs excitedly while three people known as stray kid’s seungmin, and itzy’s chaeryoung and ryujin waved from in front of them

“over there on hannah’s hand, we have around 21 boys known as nct. two of them, i believe, are currently observing quarantine, so they couldn’t be here today”

the camera turns to show a large group of boys (and two puppies?) who were waving excitedly and a little girl who was sitting on mark’s lap and playing with haechan

jin laughed. “puppies, too. finally, on yoonmi’s hand, we have me, our bts members, chan, yoonmi’s other brother, and his family… well, mostly. little yoonseol is over there”

the camera then turns to seven boys hooting and cheering wildly alongside a laughing chan and eunsol

“how about a few reactions from our crowd. girls, take your pick from your members”

the three discussed between each other before nodding. seri went to jin and whispered something in his ear. he smiled and nodded

“our girls are going to sneak off for a bit to get ready for their solo stages.”

yoonmi, hannah, and seri hopped off of their stools and walked off stage. seri winked, hannah blew a kiss, and yoonmi waved before the three of them ran to the wings of the stage

jin continued “if we can call our members on stage, that would be nice. soobin, jeno, and rm?”

namjoon calmly walked on stage, pulling a hesitant jeno along with him while the txt boys practically threw soobin up. much to namjoon’s embarrassment, the bangtan boys together with chan and yoonsung started chanting each of the leaders’ names. he gave them an exasperated look which led to laughter

“now that everyone’s quieted down, soobin, what do you think about miya and hannah’s stage?”

soobin gave a nervous chuckle when jin held the mic up to him “i don’t know if i’m suited to give critique to my sunbaes.”

“soobin, we’re literally friends” hannah’s voice came from where she spoke into her mic backstage

soobin’s eyes widened while jeno and namjoon tried to hold back their laughs. jin shook his head

“you heard her” “well, miya wrote and produced the song for us, so her understanding of the song is no joke. hannah, on the other hand, she seemed to get the feel immediately. the five of us loved it”

jin smiled and patted soobin’s head before turning “jeno-ssi! i’ve seen you at the company once, but i haven’t seen your face around our dorm. miya hasn’t brought you by yet?”

jeno jumped a little startled before laughing and scratching the back of his head “we’re friends, but she just happens to be closer with the others. seri actually was the one who invited me to the company”

“come and visit us some time when hannah comes over. you’re like a cute puppy. anyway, anything to say about miya and seri’s cover?”

jeno’s ears were turning slightly red at jin’s off-handed compliment accompanied by the neos being loud. his cheeks heated up even more when namjoon patted his shoulder

“uh, jaemin, hannah, and i worked on this song together, so it’s a great honor to have miya and seri cover it. they both have really good vocals, and yoonmi is great on the guitar, of course”

jin chuckled and thanked jeno before turning to namjoon “you. your turn”

there was a round of laughter from everyone at the way jin addressed namjoon who just sighed

“i don’t know why yoonmi asked for my opinion when i have nothing to do with lost’s production and creation”

“oppa, you monitored our practices the most” yoonmi’s voice rang through the room which shocked namjoon a little bit

“right, anyway, the girls did great. seri reminded me a bit of taehyung, and hannah was eerily similar to jungkook. good job girls, you made the song seem like your own as well”

“thank you,” jin took over the mic once again “you three can head downstage now. up next, we’ll have the three girls showing off their personal charms with solo performances. seri’s going up first. she chose to do one of miya’s title songs to show off a more elegant side of herself. hannah is going to be exuding her charisma through her only solo sm station song (i suggest having her do more), and yoonmi’s going to be spreading the fun with her best dance performance winning comeback song. without further ado, here is seri”

the lights faded for jin to walk off stage. when the lights went on, seri was on stage, a smile on her face before she whistled

she performed “the boots”

the camera caught seungmin who was staring before he saw his image and shook his head with an embarrassed laugh

then it showed beomgyu and yeonjun who looked like they were yelling along to the songs

hannah was next. she performed “snapping”

the camera showed chenle and johnny who both stood up to dance along, mouthing every word

it also showed the neos doing a mini wave just because they could

yoonmi was next with “play”

jimin danced with her rather than her usual dancer (who was sadly sick)

the camera showed little yoonseol cheering her yoonmi unnie on

it also showed jungkook v and jhope cheering a little too wildly for yoonmi and jimin’s pair dance

after yoonmi’s performance ended, another vcr started playing

it was a mini montage of the girls practicing their performances in both the bighit practice room and sm practice room

there were also cuts of yoonmi leading the girls during the recording process

then the lights went off

bicycle started playing

there were cheers as the girls emerged from the dancers

it started off with seri and you can just hear the txt boys chanting her name loudly

hannah took over the pre chorus which was starting to hype up the audience a lot more

then she went “get on my bike let’s go” and started the chorus. you can see some of the people in the audience doing the choreo that they’ve been doing on tiktok for the past week

then the second verse started with yoonmi rapping and seri walking off stage for a bit

the camera turns to the audience during yoonmi’s part, and you can see jungkook jokingly covering mark’s eyes and jungwoo covering yangyang’s eyes, both with haechan’s help

seri came in for the second chorus

the dance break started, and the cheering was pretty loud even through the screen

yoonmi took the last chorus

then the song ended and there was cheering

jin walked on stage with a proud smile on his face

“it sounded like the military in here, i could barely hear our four lovely girl guests”

“i don’t know, ryujin can be pretty loud” “yah!” seri laughed at ryujin’s indignant yell at her statement

yoonmi sees mark struggling against jungkook’s and chan’s hands and points it out to hannah and seri who laugh

seri then notices johnny being jokingly held down by taeyong, jaemin, and kun while doyoung covered yangyang’s eyes with jungwoo’s help

meanwhile haechan was between them and trying to cover both their eyes

seri pointed the neos out as well, and the other two just burst into more laughter

yoonmi falls off the chair that the staff brought which makes seri and hannah laugh harder

the cameras caught everything

jin helped her up “aigoo, looks like our girls still have a lot of energy despite the crazy performance they just did”

“so this is what it feels like to perform in the military” yoonmi laughed

“you three put up quite a performance. now, it’s time to end. it’s time for your parting words, kids”

yoonmi went first, holding her mic up

“this was a really nice time. i’m glad we were able to show everyone what we’ve been working on the past few months. we’re also really glad to have been able to broadcast this so it could be watched around the world. i hope you guys enjoyed our half-concert half-showcase today. next time, i hope we can meet in real life like in person”

hannah went next

“we practically self produced the whole thing from music to choreography, so i’m glad it looks like you enjoyed it. thank you to our friends and family who are here today for coming to support us as well! these are the people we had in mind to give us energy when we were tired, so we’re glad to be able to show you what we came up with”

finally it was seri

“we worked very hard on every aspect of this collaboration album. it’s not going to be released on charts because we want this to be something you guys can enjoy without worrying about rankings. we hope that you can feel empowered and build up your confidence from listening to our album. we’ll work hard and, if we do this again, we’ll try our best to show you guys something amazing once again”

jin smiled at them “congratulations, girls. your album has been doing well, and it will continue to do amazingly. that’s it for troublemaker. time for an ending greeting”

“until now, it’s been the royals. 2,3”

“thank you” the girls bowed in sync and waved off until the camera faded

that was the end of their showcase

[ravenvsfox]

The much requested Rockband AU Chapter Two! (Coming soon to an AO3 near you)

The bleached hair doesn’t match his skin tone. His shirt is too big for his shoulders, and it slips to one side or the other so that he keeps having to tug the neckline up to his throat, but Andrew’s already seen the white raking down his shoulder, the scars worked into his skin like sequins and thread.

Neil reminds Andrew of the foster kids he used to live with, the hand-me-downs pulled over stunted identities, oversized cuffs dragging their feet down when they tried to run, bruises on wrists under oversized sleeves.

He can’t help the way his eyes keep skirting back to Neil, like he’s the only frequency in all the static of the crowd that’s coming through clearly.

He thought maybe if he was sober that the bubble trapped in his throat would burst, but it’s so much bigger now that he’s choking on it.

Neil is tossed back and forth with the rest of the crowd, but he stands out; there’s something in his eyes that makes them visible from the back of the stage. He glows like neon, white hair and white scars, glinting piercings in his nose and ears, stud flashing in his tongue.

Andrew throws himself at his drum-kit like it’s a punching bag, and the tempest of the crowd roars back at him. Kevin tries to skid sideways into a solo, but Andrew keeps playing, falling into a brand new tempo, a gallop that Kevin can’t keep up with. The sounds grate, sparks fly, and Andrew would be feeling it, if he were high, the discord would make him laugh and laugh.

It all sounds intentional, and Kevin’s sweating when he plays chunky chords and stinging vibrato, ad libbing his way back to the chorus. Andrew lets him do what he wants. It doesn’t feel worth it to sabotage their set. He can feel distraction setting in like winter.

When he’s at his lowest, sober and dried up, he feels sick, all stuffed up with no sense of taste. He can tell from the textures and the sense memory what the flavours are supposed to be, but he can’t feel anything.

The song ends in lyrics that Kevin yells more than sings, and Andrew smashes the cymbal a few times until it matches his heartbeat. The crowd erupts in applause, hollering so loudly that he can’t hear himself anymore. 

He looks back at Neil, like scratching an itch, and finds him grinning at the ceiling, caught up in the adrenaline and a high that Andrew can’t parse, booze or pills or euphoria.

Their eyes brush. Neil slicks his sweaty hair back with both hands and pops his tongue between his teeth, silver winking. Andrew just barely raises an eyebrow. He throws his drumsticks on the ground and they clatter between mic stands and cables as he leans forward to swipe the flask from Nicky's back pocket. He jolts, his guitar swinging away from his body when he rounds on him.

“Thought you were staying sober tonight?” he hisses.

“Changed my mind,” Andrew says, unscrewing the flask. Their fans are laughing, heckling affectionately, shouting their support when Andrew knocks back most of the whiskey.

His stomach is empty and so are his chest and his head, so when the first shot hits his stomach, his whole body burns. He holds the back of his hand to his mouth while he waits for a buzz to take. Nicky hands him his sticks back and wrestles the flask away.

“Someone thought now was a good time to pre-game,” Nicky says into the microphone. “The good news is,” he laughs, “there’s a bar on your left, and we’re all in this together.” He raises the flask and the crowd laughs and clinks glasses.

Andrew hits the snare angrily, and it makes a sound like a startled snake.

“Listen up,” Kevin says, more strict teacher than bassist in a rock band. The houselights are wound down to nothing, and his face is hollowed out by the crossbeams of blue spotlights. “We’re gonna play a song called ten times faster.”

“A song for all you lovers out there,” Nicky jokes.

“Not quite,” Aaron says, lazily retuning his guitar.

“More like, a song for when you’re tripping balls and you hit the fucking ceiling.”

“It’s about escaping,” Andrew corrects. He says it low, away from the microphone, but he could swear that Neil’s head snaps towards him; his gaze climbs up the stage and takes Andrew by the shoulders.

He says, ‘I know what you're after

we’ll do it in the dark, call it natural disaster’

you’re out for blood, I’ll draw it ten times faster

if my teeth are bared you can’t call it laughter

top floor, I’m too high for you to catch, uh

I’m running out so this is never gonna last, your

not catching up, ‘cause now I’m ten times faster

The whiskey is blood-hot on his tongue, but the lyrics burn hotter. He can’t touch them without recoiling. They were rotting inside of him before he wrote them down. The crowd tries to ingest ideas that they don’t understand, and their bodies spasm like they’re rejecting a transfusion.

Letting Aaron bow his head over his guitar and streak through the chords he wrote to accompany one of his breakdowns is one of the ugliest things Andrew has ever allowed to happen.

He thinks about putting the words in Neil’s mouth and it makes his fists clench around his sticks.

He kicks into overdrive until his wrists strain and sweat gets in his eyes, and then he hammers his way through the line up of drums, looking for a crash big enough to punch his eardrums out, to shriek with feedback and blow out the sound system.

The song screams to a close, fans clap and call for more, Kevin drinks vodka from a plastic tumbler, Nicky keeps curtseying to get the audience to laugh. Neil peers up at them with his shirt falling down all over again, grey fabric patched with humidity and spilled liquor.

Andrew thinks, bleak, flushed down to his wrists, I brought this on myself.

_______

Neil finds them when they’re hefting their equipment out from a backstage platform to the parking lot. It’s an assembly line of passing and loading that Andrew stays apart from, sitting sideways in the front seat of the van with his feet kicked up on the door, smoking from the clear, petite bong that Nicky usually keeps in his cupholder.

He meets Neil's eye for a second, then viciously ignores him, slipping the bowl out by its stem to clear the smoke. It’s too much for one hit, and it spills out of his mouth, fogs his vision, sits down on his chest so he can’t really focus on anything but the high.

Neil’s saying something to Nicky, hopping down out of the loading docks to help them.

“You were good,” Neil says, closer now, “without the drugs.” He has this pointed look on his face, those viciously blue eyes are street signs that Andrew can’t read.

He puts the bong down behind him, focusing hard, and when he looks up, whatever usually holds his tongue isn’t there anymore. “Ah, but I don’t want to be good, Neil,” he says, thin laughter like syrup drizzled over everything. “I want to see how badly I have to play to be kicked out of the band. It’s a game I play.”

“I don’t believe you,” Neil says, angry, defensive on Andrew’s behalf. “If you really wanted to, you’d pull one of those knives.” He nods at Andrew’s unassuming black armbands, heavy with concealed blades. “Trash the place.”

“Oh,” Andrew says. He doesn't want to laugh again, but the weed makes him overly conscious of the way his mouth works, and of Neil's mouth, and of what they are and aren’t to each other. “He thinks because he’s been watching for a minute that he knows who I am.”

“No.” Neil’s brow twists. “I’m trying to figure out why someone with your talent isn’t living up to your potential. You could play stadiums with that talent, I mean, your—the stage presence alone—Andrew?”

He hops out of the car and slams the door to overcompensate for the way he stumbles. The high softens his joints and the ground bucks up and tries to pull him close. “Hmm. Rather not.”

“That’s crazy,” Neil says, following him. His shoes are scuffed and his shirt is coming untucked and that tongue piercing, that red split of his mouth—

“Don’t really like that word,” Andrew says, feverish and unstable, his whole body a balancing act gone wrong. Neil’s starting to look like a smoky mirage, a fantasy who doesn’t know how to be one.

“I don’t care what you like,” Neil says, impatient, and Andrew tips his grin up to the dusky sky, on the edge of panic, feeling the drugs make everything huge, feeling himself get smaller.

“That’s what they all say.” He stops short, on the edge of the parking lot, cold air buffeting against the heat of the drugs, both trying to find purchase in his addled brain. Neil comes around to face him, and when Andrew steps forward, he steps back, maintaining the pocket of space between them. Something in Andrew’s chest gets crushed flat like a soda can. “For someone with no identity, you seem overly interested in mine.”

Neil’s face contorts. He’s so easy to read when he’s caught off guard. That, or the drugs make Andrew think he can see things that aren't there. “I’ve told you who I am.”

“No, no, no,” Andrew replies. “You’ve given me a first name, and a debt, and a conflicted childhood, but you don’t sound like you’ve meant a single word of it.”

“I can’t convince you of the truth if you don't want to believe it,” Neil retorts. His piercings are like scattered silverware. His lies curl so prettily in his mouth that Andrew thinks, I could suck you until there’s nothing left but honesty.

“I’m tired of this conversation,” Andrew says definitively. “You underestimate how many times I’ve been lied to.”

“Josten,” Neil says. Andrew cocks his head, sluggish. “Neil Abram Josten. I’m a singer. I don’t like you, or understand you. That’s all you need to know.”

“It’s mutual,” Andrew says, meaning it. He hates the way Neil looks and acts and the way the two never match up for long enough to create a clear picture. “Your obsession with performing is already grating.”

“Your indifference is infuriating,” Neil replies. “We’re even.”

“We’re not,” Andrew says. It’s dangerous, how much he’s starting to feel. All the colour he’s putting in his voice is sticky and saturated on the roof of his mouth. “You were floundering and I stopped you from drowning, remember?”

“Do you want me to say thank you?” Neil snarls, that fascinating, hair-trigger temper. He fists his hand in his own shirt and Andrew tracks the movement, off-centre, hazy, when Neil yanks the collar down to expose the vicious blue brushing from where Andrew hit him with the guitar. The scars slither into the window of exposed skin, and Neil seems to realize all at once what he’s doing. The shirt bounces back, wrinkled.

“If you think I needed to be saved from the back of a bar with my pockets full of cash, then you don’t really know what drowning looks like.”

Andrew grabs him by the scruff of his shirt, that grey slipping neckline that he’s been eyeing all night. He trips them both back a couple of steps, losing his balance, but Neil must think he’s being intimidated, because he grabs Andrew’s wrist hard. 

The tattooed word yes stares back at him from beneath the dramatic slope of Neil’s jaw. “Au contraire,” he says, and he’s smiling, but he can’t pry the seriousness from his tone, or his hands from Neil’s chest. “Everything I do is from underwater.”

“Then what exactly is it that you think you can do for me except slow me down?” Neil asks, forcing himself away from Andrew’s grip and stumbling into the patch of sidewalk right before the curb becomes open road.

“I gave you a spot in our line up, but that won’t keep you alive,” Andrew says. “I’ve heard there are people out for your blood. Or was that another lie?”

Neil ignores his last question, shoulders rising. “Are you threatening me?”

“So touchy,” Andrew teases. “I’m doing the opposite, actually. If you’re with us you’re with us. No one can touch you.”

Neil’s eyes flicker over him, brows pulling further and further together. “You’re offering—what? Protection? Before you even know what I’m dealing with?”

“Your monsters don’t scare me.”

“Yours do,” Neil huffs, looking out at the blinking, spinning, beeping cityscape. “But okay. Deal.” He can tell from Neil’s face that he’s not really taking him seriously.

“Hey! Stop running off!” Nicky calls, out of breath, jogging towards them from halfway across the parking lot. 

Andrew wasn’t even aware of covering that much ground. His fists go loose at his sides. He can’t tell if it’s the pot or Neil’s devastating presence that’s scrambling everything into pieces.

“But that’s his M.O.,” Andrew calls back, and Neil snaps him a burning look, the crack of a match, the miracle of a flame.

“Well cut it out,” Nicky says good-naturedly, rolling to a stop in front of them. “I wanted to hear what you thought of the show while the adrenaline’s still fresh.” He leans down to Neil’s level, hands on his knees like he’s talking to a child, and Andrew shoves him back without thinking.

“You guys are better than me,” Neil says frankly. “I don’t know how I’m going to fit into your sound.”

“Oh fuck off,” Nicky says, at a measured distance now. “You’re a natural, like Andrew. And you’re obsessed, like Kevin, so there’s no way you’re not going to fit in. Now please can we get in the van, I packed a new bowl and I’m jonesing.”

“Where are we going now?” Neil asks carefully. Andrew can see the way he’s chafing in the Annapolis air, like he’s having an allergic reaction.

“Home,” Nicky says. “South Carolina.”

Neil nods jerkily. Andrew squints through the fog of his high, and he can see for the first time that Neil’s pretty drunk, he’s just been holding it in the pocket of his cheek and talking through it.

“How long is that drive?”

“Not long if you’re wasted,” Nicky says, and the energy of his excitement tips against Neil like a flame and sets him going. Andrew watches Neil smile through bitten lips and accept the refilled flask. “If we get you drunk enough can we hear those golden pipes of yours again? No one ever does karaoke with me.”

He’s steering them back through the parking lot, encouraging Neil to drain the swampy mixed liquor he’s put together from the drinks fans bought him. He always has this way of getting you where he wants you without you knowing it was his idea.

Neil sways forward like he’s grooving to music, his cheeks pink from the cold and alcohol. “I’ve never done karaoke before,” he says.

“You’re killing me,” Nicky complains. “What sort of sheltered fucking town did you crawl out of?”

Neil hesitates, and Andrew’s filterless mouth curls. “Baltimore,” he guesses. “One of his big bad secrets.”

“Oh shit!” Nicky exclaims, shoving Neil a little by the shoulder. “Less than an hour from home. You know, I can talk to Kev and we can totally drop in—“

“No,” Neil says, quick and harsh as a pulled tooth. “That’s not my home.”

“You don’t have one of those, right?” Andrew says. Neil’s eyes flicker towards him.

“Right,” he agrees, all the fight sapped out of his voice. Andrew looks out at the sleek shape of his van, the fogged up windows, Aaron and Kevin haloed by the yellow interior lights. He doesn’t know why, but his chest is a kicked in drum.

“We’ll make you one,” Nicky says gently. “Did you know that SC is famous for its peach pie? Doesn’t get homier than that.”

_______

Nicky nurses his bong from the back seat of the van as soon as they get back on the road. The water bubbles, and he deftly lights close to the side of the bowl to keep the burn steady. 

Andrew slouches in the middle seat, watching the low light exaggerate Nicky’s hollow cheeks and tease moving pictures out of Neil’s mouth when he sucks on his tongue piercing.

“It’s still cherry,” Nicky says hoarsely, and passes to Neil, who crooks the base against his knee and leans down to smoke.

His ashy hair brushes his downcast eyes, and Andrew shakes his head so that he doesn’t keep watching him.

“You shouldn’t be smoking,” Kevin calls from the passenger seat. When Andrew looks up, he’s twisted around in his seat to look at Neil, pupils too wide open to be natural.

“Forgive me if I don’t take advice from the man who choked me out today,” Neil says, smoke spilling out around his words. Andrew inhales.

“It’s not advice,” Kevin snaps. “It’s an order.”

Neil laughs, mean. “Nice try. I’ll follow your ‘orders’ when you prove you’re a worthy leader. Hasn’t happened yet.” He bows his head to take another hit.

“Andrew,” Kevin says imploringly.

“Uh uh,” Andrew scolds. “He said no.”

“No one takes this band seriously at all, do they?” Kevin says. He looks so perpetually disappointed. His talent is withering, and Andrew will only ever do enough to keep it alive, not to see it bloom.

“Ding ding ding,” Andrew says.

“Hey, I care, Kev,” Nicky says. “Ausreißer is like the second best thing in my life.”

“What—“ Neil starts.

“Don’t ask,” Aaron says, not looking away from the road.

“My fiancé Erik. 6’2” German supermodel. Swimmer’s body, blue eyes. You know my type.” Nicky winks at Neil, and Andrew’s lip curls.

“I didn’t know,” Neil says. His expression whispers that he’s even more uncomfortable with Nicky’s flirtation.

Nicky waves him off. “Fans don’t know much about us. Some don’t even know I’m related to the twins. Makes it easier to be kind of shitty if they don’t even really know our last names.”

“I suppose that’s not an option for you anymore, Josten,” Andrew says, loopy, the orange glow of the pot keeping him half distracted. Neil looks at him with those paint-spill eyes, and Andrew feels stupid for the way his feelings are talking over his thoughts.

“Good thing I have nothing to hide,” he replies.

“Oh, I hope that’s not true,” Nicky says.

“It’s not,” Andrew says. Headlights outside flash and fade over the three of them huddled in the back seats, crashing waves of bright white. 

Andrew wants to take Neil by the scars, like reins, and pull him up short. He wants the whirring behind Neil’s eyes to stop so he can take the tape out and unspool it.

“Can we talk music now?” Kevin says impatiently. “I want to figure out some backing vocals now that we have a lead.”

“Yes,” Neil says immediately. “What’s the plan?”

Andrew tunes them out. The air is still heavy with smoke. He’s not wearing a seatbelt, so the van is tossing him a little, his seat bucking, engine buzzing in his feet. 

He watches Neil drape himself over the back of the empty middle seat to look at Kevin, both of them talking about harmonies, using sound affects and hand gestures for time signatures, cocked towards each other like two loaded weapons caught in a stand off.

Andrew wonders what makes someone so obsessed and so detached at once.

He wonders if the flip and burn of his attraction to Neil made him do something stupid like tie himself to a runaway train.

The van cracks down the highway, and South Carolina charges towards them. He wonders if either of them will flinch before impact, or if he’ll hit home head-on like he always does.

________

They skid into Columbia before the sun’s all the way up, but it’s already steaming hot. Andrew squints at the familiar shape of the studio from the parking lot. It’s an obnoxious sunset orange building with graffiti around the side that says ‘no more monsters’. Underneath, someone’s spray-painted a rabid looking wolf in a circle with a bar through it.

Andrew waits to feel the roar and snap of anger, but his temple pulses with a headache, and he’s unmoved.

“Welcome to Palmetto Records, home of Ausreißer,” Nicky says, beaming. “And Foxes, if you’ve heard of them.”

“Foxes as in the girl group on the radio?” Neil asks incredulously. He looks a little grey and burnt out, hair raked back and shoes kicked off. He didn’t sleep all night, like he was proving a point about privacy, or he was insistent on keeping Andrew aware and preoccupied until sunrise.

“Their guitarist is Matt Boyd,” Kevin corrects.

“Nice dude,” Nicky says.

“But you sound nothing like them,” Neil says. “How can you even be part of the same label?”

“That’s not really how labels work,” Aaron says. He’s looking out through the windshield like he doesn’t want to go inside.

“We’re multi-genre,” Kevin says airily. “But we don’t really interact with them anyway.”

“He doesn’t,” Nicky says, rolling his eyes. “I like them. Dan’s kinda icy, but she’s a catch, Matt’s lucky. Allison’s a bitch. Renee’s definitely the best. Do what you will with that.” He rests his hand on the door handle and taps his fingers, jittery.

“Are they here a lot?” Neil asks. “Will I meet them?”

“You’re stalling,” Andrew interrupts.

Neil doesn’t even look at him, just sighs and reaches down for his bag.

It’s clear that he thinks this is the end of the road. The nebulous space in their lives between streetlights and chains of shared cigarettes could evaporate as soon as he crosses an official threshold.

Andrew can see the crease between his dark brows, his squared shoulders, the fingers pinching his belongings as if he’s getting ready to run with them.

Neil moves to open the door, and without thinking, Andrew says, “Wymack does not turn away talent.”

“He might turn it away if it’s attached to an idiot,” Aaron mutters.

Neil ignores him, and his mouth twitches in Andrew’s direction. “Talent? I thought you were difficult to ‘wow’?”

Andrew looks away. His head hurts.

“Come on, freaks,” Nicky says, pushing at Neil’s shoulder until he pulls the door open, dropping his shoes out on the pavement and stepping into them.

“Paperwork first, studio second,” Kevin says. “Don’t touch the equipment until you’ve read the contract.”

“This is all moot if your manager doesn’t want me,” Neil says, shouldering his bag and squinting against the pale morning sun.

“Whatever,” Nicky says. “We want you. Bad.”

“Don’t speak for me,” Aaron says.

“Debatable,” Kevin says.

Andrew says nothing.

They trudge towards the backdoor, and Andrew pushes past them to punch in the code. They push into the air-conditioned hallway, dark grey walls against pale flooring. 

He watches Neil react to the curve of the hall opening up into an orange and cream waiting room with leather couches, hallways forking in every direction, recording studios peering out from behind glass.

Neil’s eyes are wide, his shirt is still stained, tucked into jeans that are ripped up too high to be intentional, and his hair is fried, red bleeding into yellow. He looks the same way everyone looks when Wymack baits them into Palmetto, damaged and bribed, desperate for an out.

He also looks like he doesn’t trust the decor, like he felt safer in the claws of a crowd of strangers or the teeth of a hangover than he does in this quiet, tidy atrium, with four people between him and the exit.

“What did you drag in this time?”

Wymack stands sideways in the doorway with a hand on the wall, like he was passing by when he spotted them.

“We found a singer,” Nicky announces, grinning.

Wymack grimaces. “No.”

Nicky’s face falls. “Come on, boss.”

“We’re not making any more changes to the line up, Hemmick, no matter how much you want to bang them.”

“But Kevin worked out great! Kind of.”

A shadow passes over his face. “Kevin’s different.”

“This is Wymack,” Andrew tells Neil. “You are nothing to him until you’ve proven yourself to be useful.”

“You’re not nothing,” Wymack says sharply, addressing Neil directly. “I just don’t trust these fuckers as far as I can throw them.”

Neil’s eyes narrow. “Neither do I.” Wymack quirks a smile, doubtless picturing Neil trying to punt someone twice his size any distance at all.

“You should sign him,” Andrew says. Wymack steps further into the room, crossing his arms.

“You’re vouching for him? I don’t know if that should be a warning bell or a glowing review.”

Aaron snorts.

“He can sing,” Kevin chimes in. “He needs work, but I’m willing to put in the time if you are.”

Wymack raises a brow. “You’re all in on this? That’s new.”

“They’re desperate,” Neil says. “But I’m not. So if you’re going to interrogate me for much longer, I’ll go ahead and hitch a ride back to Virginia.”

“Oh he’s one of you, alright,” Wymack says tiredly. “You got a name?”

“Neil,” he says, swallowing. “Josten.”

“Neil Josten,” Wymack repeats. “You know what Ausreißer means?”

He shrugs, listing, “outlier. Runaway. Wild shot.”

“Right. Does that sound like a group that I have any control over?” he asks. His eyes are narrowed but his mouth is turned up, unthreatening.

“I think you think you do. You have their names written on some papers in a drawer somewhere, and you think that means you own them.” Neil’s expression is wild. He’s trying so hard to get out of a trap that he’s hurting himself.

“All I own is the nameplate for that office,” Wymack gestures behind him at a door that’s ajar halfway down the hall, “and the mini fridge in studio two. Sprung for it myself.”

“You’re the boss,” Neil says flatly.

“That’s what they call me,” Wymack agrees. “I open the door for people. They walk in or they don’t. Their call. Do you want in?”

“Depends. Does the door lock behind me?”

Wymack rolls his eyes. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t you?”

“He already is,” Aaron says.

Wymack looks back and forth between them, vaguely amused. “Are you even legal, kid?”

Andrew watches Neil hesitate. “I’m twenty-one.”

“Well, come on in. Let’s get you someplace to sing.”

_______

Wymack leads them to the main recording studio, and as soon as they’re inside, Aaron drops his heavy backpack, and Nicky collapses into the wheeled leather chair in front of the control board.

“Alright.” Wymack jerks his thumb towards the live room. “Get in there. Sing me something pretty.”

“Can I make a request?” Nicky asks sweetly.

“No,” Neil says easily. He abandons his duffel and crosses the threshold towards the sealed off equipment, propped up microphones, and heaps of wires. “I know what I want to sing.”

He worries his tongue stud briefly, pulling the mic down to his level. He looks so washed out in the harsh overhead light, but it’s not bad on him. He’s too athletic and cocksure to look sick.

“Now?” Neil asks. his fist is clenched at the base of the microphone, and his gravity is clipped to that point.

“Unless you’re waiting for some sort of divine intervention,” Wymack says, “now would be good.”

Neil breathes in. Andrew doesn’t.

He starts singing one of Andrew’s songs, but he’s pitched it higher, trussed it up in that crystal clear tone he’s got, and thrown in candied pieces of ornamentation. 

Just like the first time, his shoulders relax, his neck arches, and the music wanders out of him like it’s looking for victims, like it’s stronger the more people it absorbs.

Andrew’s so gutted, so trapped, that he almost doesn’t realize that it’s the song they were playing when he first spotted Neil, when he was playing a character, drunk and lost, skulking around for things to steal.

They’re both completely sober now, and Neil is incredible when he’s glass-clear. His voice expands and expands, and he’s so close to the microphone that his lips whisper across it.

Andrew’s words aren’t ugly when Neil sings them. He makes his crumpled papers into airplanes. He sets the studio on fire. Andrew looks away, and it’s like pulling a hand off a stovetop and losing half his skin.

Wymack is easing back on the couch, smiling, and Nicky’s spinning laughing circles in his chair. Kevin’s gone perfectly still like he does when he’s reading Andrew’s lyrics for the first time. Aaron’s leaning all the way forward, head propped on his hand, focused.

When he turns back to watch Neil’s cracked face, heart pounding, he wonders how someone with such tough, impenetrable skin can sing like he’s being bled.