interstellar5555 | 005 ✽ We be all night

Who: The willing from Pride and Virgo
What: Want to know what party sucked? The solstice party. Want to know what party won't suck? Luci and Luce's.
When: Jan 8th
Where: The basement of the club Blue Heist
Warnings: None planned besides possible/probably intoxication

A little while after the disaster at Naomi's, those who had attended might find themselves approached- by Luce on Virgo's side, by Luci on Pride's, or perhaps by someone who had heard about it from either of them. The subject of conversation?

Another party. One that involves another mingle of both labels, without being used for any ulterior motives.

Those who seem up to it are given a time and place. Blue Heist is one of the clubs around town that has what could be called a "basement level", for private renting and parties available to anyone who has the cash to spend on it. It's a pretty simple set up, nothing extravagant like the party at Naomi's... Which is absolutely on purpose, let no one tell you otherwise. There's a reason any mics or karaoke equipment has been pointedly removed. All the music is on the system already.

Nope, tonight it's just dancing and drinking, with a couple of rooms to the side that have cheesy movies playing in case you're tired out. No closed doors, no poison at the bar, no murder.

And if you want to take a moment to maybe have a talk to someone on the opposite label to discuss or apologize for the events of the prior night... That's fine too.

Just be careful. Both labels are still under watch, it seems, with a few bodyguards from both sides around the perimeter here and there.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And there he is. Xanxus was wondering when they would end up running into each other again. It seems like a pretty standard thing now. The two largest shirtless guys in the room would end up standing within three feet of each other. Xanxus is sitting away from everything, feet up on something.

The question still catches him off guard because he didn't think the drummer cared. They were pretty much rivals in a weird way. "Forward. Better than any other direction. You look...well." He's trying to be social. He's really trying. It's hard.

"Yeaaaah, it's a nice change to relax a bit, y'know?" Jecht slid his fingers into the hair flopped down over the back of his neck, shooting a glance around. Not many suits here, no bigwigs, no music, and no creep-ass tension in the air you could cut with a knife.

"I doubt we'll get that chance anymore. We're not on lockdown like last time, but fuck those guards are a pain in my goddamn ass." He hates that they get followed everywhere. He can't even enjoy himself. No hotels with hot people. No back alleys to get a fix. No bar fights. It's pretty boring now that they have babysitters.

"Honestly, I'm surprised they're even letting this happen."

"You ain't kidding! Man, I'm not saying I don't want to be a big name on a big stage, but giving up just diving into the crowd and getting in the pit? That sucks. That sucks hard."

But on the other hand, it beat being clubbed by a cute girl and then finding a broken-armed bandmate in the bushes.

He feels that, Jecht. He really really feels that. He rarely goes into the pit. Mostly because he's the floor on which their sound is built. He lets Luci crowd surf but just once he'd like to hop into the mosh pit and get really roudy.

"Maybe they won't fuck with us at concerts. Maybe. But I'd love my jackass to go into the pit so I can accidently kick his ass." Oh, he wishes he could. "Least they haven't cut us off of the food and drink."

"Musicians up here never go hungry, huh?" Jecht couldn't say he'd ever been HUNGRY hungry -- though he hadn't always been eating great, living off the proceeds a drummer in clubs got. Pizza and dollar menu burgers, stuff he'd probably love to his dying day. Still, it made him grateful for the largess. "Guess so long as they're trying to keep us happy and healthy, it's better than the alternative."

That creepy, messed-up alternative they'd gotten a hint might await after that party.

He has. It's so strange to think about. Here, he swore he remembered growing up in a wealthy home. But newer memories were steadily replacing those and telling him that yes, he'd had the finery, but before that, he had the streets.

"Much better. I honestly don't know what to make of it. I just know that since I'm on the shit list, I have to be extra careful. I made a promise after all..." He had. To Luci. And he wants to keep it.

"You really think they've got you on notice?" Jecht hadn't heard anything about stuff like that. But Jecht was a pretty good boy as far as the label was concerned, and was too busy doing his own thing to get in trouble. Or notice others getting in trouble.

He frowns. "I do. Back at that fucked up party, when everyone was taken to get healed or whatever, I was still with the group. I was going to die and instead of getting medical help, they left me right where I was." Luci had found him and after that, he sort of didn't remember anything because his brain had sort of started to shut down with the rest of his body. Just the memory of that makes his blood run cold and makes him want to drink something hard and warm.

"So, I really have to behave. No bar fights for me for a while."

"That's fucked up," Jecht said bluntly. He had no idea what had happened in the end, except for a bunch of stuff he didn't or couldn't understand. Memory wanted him to believe that magic was real... "And yet here you are fine and well. Someone must've taken care of you."

"Massively fucked." He agrees. "But you're right. Someone must have cause I'm still breathing. But maybe you're right... about that whole living thing. After that bullshit, I sort of like this breathing thing I've got going on." Though he is still drinking enough to kill an elephant.

Yeah, Jecht ain't touchin' THAT fact with a ten foot pole. "Y'know, I've been trying to sell people on how good being alive is for a long time."

Good call there, Jecht. He sort of almost smiles at the man. Almost. "Well, I guess you sold me, old man. So I'm going to be stealing even more of your fans from here on in." He's sort of teasing there. They can share fans. Bassists and drummers don't get enough of them as it is.

"Hey, go ahead. Steal ten times as many fans as you have been. Ten times zero's still zero, right?" What good would a little brief understanding and sympathy be without some banter? It's how real men show emotions!

005 ✽ We be all night

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