a catch-all for the young men of flashstep

[notahobby]

Who: the Flashstep boys, open to other Pride members and in some cases to all!
What: the day-to-day lives of Pride's only favourite boyband as well as some performances and events from the album release!
When: the week(s) after the gala! (10/06 - 10/17)
Where: Flashstep penthouse, Pride Records HQ, out and about!
Warnings: it's a boyband and Maxxie is a member - tobacco use in one prompt

The boys are busy with their album release. They're putting on performances, attending event, and are generally being carted around for the benefit of their fans. But they can't be working every minute of the day, can they?

[Prompts for each of the boys below!]

Comments

[yellowcopycat]

We needed to make a fast retreat without being suspicious. 'Hey I'm about to grab you' is about as obvious as me putting you over my shoulder and running.

[Ryouta could do it. He's an athletic, very tall teenager. Jamie... isn't. He walks over to the truck and proceeds to charm the staff there, getting free samples which he passes to Jamie while looks over the menu. It's Europa style food; specifically fake!Italiano food. It's noodles, meat of your choice, a selection of veggies, sauces, and cheeses, in a wrap. Tasty, but not really Italiano]

Hmmm... I can't make up my mind, they all sound good. What are you thinking of gettting?

[mildwildchild]

[Hypothetical or not, that comment about carrying him gets Ryouta a sharp glare that suggests he'd better not even think of trying it.] Yeah, I think given a choice I'd prefer you wrenching my arm around.

[He peruses the menu, chewing his lower lip and hoping the sudden growling of his stomach isn't too audible.] The steak wrap looks good to me. You eat steak, or are you vegan or something?

[yellowcopycat]

[That sharp glare is met with a wince, because he had been thinking about it. Because it's funny. And kinda cute. Don't judge him. He turns the wince into an easy smile.]

I eat meat. I try to eat healthily so I avoid too much red meat... but the meatball sounds really good. I haven't had meatballs in forever.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie's just going to presume his point's been made. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Though he would most certainly judge if he did know.]

Too bad about the red meat, you're missing out. I say go for it this time and get the meatball. That looks like it'd be good too. [This is punctuated by a loud growl from his stomach. Jamie shoots Ryouta an embarrassed look and shrugs.]

[yellowcopycat]

I have a burger every once in awhile.

[He gives Jamie a smile and then nods]

Meatball it is. I think I was twelve the last time I ate meatballs.

[mildwildchild]

[That gets an incredulous look.]

Seriously? How long ago was that?

[The cart attendant is watching them impatiently, so Jamie places his order.] You shouldn't deprive yourself like that, man. Meat is awesome. [Then again, right now all food seems awesome. He's starving.]

[yellowcopycat]

Five years.

[After placing his order Ryouta wonders over to a rack of magazines while their food is prepared. He picks up one and shows the cover to Jamie. It's an older work, so he's surprised it was on the rack to begin with. And it's better condition than the rest of the magazines. It just strikes him as odd.]

Hazard of my former profession.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie's expression twitches briefly between envy and frustration. Ryouta's at most a few months older than he is but already like twice his size; somehow, it feels like the discrepancy wouldn't be quite so galling if there were a greater gap in their ages. Some guys have all the luck, it seems.]

[His expression is more neutral as he follows Ryouta over to the magazine stand and eyes the cover he's presented.]

You used to be a model? [He can't judge too much; it's not like being in a boyband has much less prissy connotations.] How'd you like it?

[yellowcopycat]

[Hey now, sometimes Ryouta wishes he was short and cute. But he recognizes being tall has its advantages. He's still cute though.]

Yeah. It was okay, a lot fun at times, and annoying others. My dad was more concerned about my career than me, since how well I did reflected on his career.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie's not unsympathetic to Ryouta's dad woes, necessarily, he just feels awkward commenting on them too much.] That sucks. Was he your manager, too?

[yellowcopycat]

Manager, agent, and I was his muse. He was a designer. He made it big when I started modeling his designs.

[He flips through the magazine when his name is called. He goes over to the cart, picks up their order, and heads back over to Jamie, handing him his wrap.]

Here you go.

Thanks for being my escape route.

[mildwildchild]

[Well that sounds like a weird, complicated relationship.] Sounds rough. What's he think of you being in the music industry now?

[Oh god food. Jamie hasn't eaten in like four hours and he's starving. He accepts the wrap and manages to thank Ryouta before he starts inhaling it.] Thanks. And it's no big deal, I guess. The fans are nice, but they get to be a little much after a while.

[yellowcopycat]

Well, I'm emancipated, so what's that tell you?

[He shrugged] Fuck him. He never let do anything on my own. I want to live my life, even if that means making mistakes. They would be my mistakes.

[He's not usually the type to drop the f-bomb, but when it comes to his father it felt appropriate. He bit into his wrap and gave a little moan]

I've really missed eating meatballs.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie shrugs around a mouthful of steak wrap. They're getting into weird personal territory and he's not sure he wants to be here.] Yeah, guess there's something to be said for making your own decisions. It'd kinda suck to be our age and not allowed to do that much.

[Not that Jamie's gotten to make most of his own decisions regarding his life and career path, but he won't complain.]

[He recognizes the sound of a foodgasm and nods like some point of his has been proven.] See, you should do it more often. Meatballs aren't going to kill you. Y'know, in moderation.

[yellowcopycat]

Of course. [He takes another bite, chewing thoughtfully. He realizes a bit belatedly that he might have over shared.]

Sorry, didn't mean to unload on you.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie shrugs. He just...doesn't really know how to respond to emotional stuff very well, at least not constructively.] 'sokay. If something's on your chest, you gotta get it out there, I guess. Better than cramming it down until you explode or something.

[He looks a little awkward.] And if you're looking for advice or whatever I'm...probably not the guy to talk to.

[yellowcopycat]

Ah, well, I wasn't really looking for advice.

[He smiles sheepishly] Mostly I guess I wanted an ear to vent to. Sorry.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie shrugs, hiding his discomfort by finishing off his steak wrap - yes, he really did eat it all that quickly.] Like I said, it's okay. I don't mind listening, I guess.

[He falls silent for a moment or two, brushing his hands off and then slipping them into the pockets of his coat.] Sucks that your relationship with your dad is like that, though. [Another pause.] You ever miss him?

[Or rather, is there anything good about him to miss, Ryouta.]

[yellowcopycat]

I...

[Did he miss his father? He hadn't really thought about it. Ever since becoming enunciated all he felt was relief from being out of his father's control. He racked his brain. Was there anything he missed? He couldn't think of anything. It was... Weird. He shook his head. Nothing came to mind so he guessed he didn't. He wondered if anything good about him had simply just been over shadowed.]

No. No I don't miss him.

Enough about me! How's your album coming?

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie considers that revelation quietly for a moment or two. He misses his parents every day, not that he'd ever say so out loud, so the notion that anyone could not miss theirs is difficult to wrap his head around. Then again, it seems like most of his bandmates are, at best, ambivalent toward their parents, too, so Jamie seems to be the odd one out here.

[He lets the matter drop, though, and takes Ryouta up on the change of subject.] Pretty good, when the other guys actually buckle down and put in some effort. I swear to God, it seems like I'm the only one who tries sometimes.

[It's a little hard to tell if he actually believes this or is just being dramatic.]

[yellowcopycat]

[Ryouta laughs and takes finishes off his own wrap, didn't take him long either. He was still hungry though.]

I'm sure it'll all work out. How's the work spilt up? Some write the lyrics, someone else choreograph?

[he's honestly curious. The boy band model is completely different from how his own band works]

You want chips? I'm still hungry.

[mildwildchild]

Sure! [Jamie is almost comically enthusiastic at the prospect of more food.

[He's a little more subdued at the question of the band's duties, though. Almost...self-conscious, knowing this isn't the way most bands do things.] Well - no. Someone else writes all our music and arranges the choreography. It's just our job to perform everything the way they intended. [His tone becomes a little more belligerent.] But someday I'm totally gonna take a crack at writing or choreographing or something, y'know, maybe for our next album. And that still doesn't excuse the other guys putting in half-assed efforts.

[Yeah, Jamie compensates for his own insecurities by shit-talking his bandmates. It is but one of his many charms.]

[yellowcopycat]

[Ryouta buys five bags of chips- no one can judge because they're the small bags that are mostly air anyways and tosses Jamie some BBQ flavored and opens a ranch flavor for himself. He's frowning at Jamie. He doesn't know the other band well, Sora and he have been texting for a bit, and he likes to think he's becoming friends with Maxxie. Still, he doesn't know them or their work ethic, though he suspects Jamie is over compensating.]

I see. Well, if you want tips for lyric writing, let me know. I write most of lyrics for our songs.

[mildwildchild]

[Five bags but Ryouta what are you gonna eat - oh.

[Jamie doesn't quite miss that frown as he wrestles his bag open, and he feels a little guilty for bagging on the guys like that...but not guilty enough to apologize. Yet.]

Yeah? Is it, like, hard? D'you have to make the lyrics match with the music or does the composer have to write the music to go with the lyrics? [He jams a handful of chips in his mouth, looking at Ryouta expectantly as he crunches away on them.]

[yellowcopycat]

Sometimes it is. Depends if I'm in the zone or not.

[He pauses for a moment to eat another chip] Usually I write the lyrics first and Ankh writes the music. Our manager has the final say in everything though.