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]

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.

[mildwildchild]

So how do you get in the zone? [He's honestly curious. Jamie's got things he does to psych up for rehearsals or performances, and he's interested to hear what kind of things get Ryouta's creative gears turning.]

You guys ever argue, y'know, about how the music and lyrics should go together?

[yellowcopycat]

[Talking about the zone is odd, like he's talking about the wrong thing. Or the right thing but the wrong subject. he shakes his head. It's all static really]

Well, sometimes I drink. But not a lot, just enough to get loose. Most of the time I just come up with concept, and string words together because I like how they sound together.

[He pauses and puts down his chip bag. Thinking, then he begins to sing.]

You're second hand smoke, second hand smoke
I breathe you in, but, honey, I don't know what you're doing to me
Mon chéri, but the truth catches up with us eventually
Try to say live, live and let live
But I'm no good, good at lip service
Except when they're yours, mi amor
I'm coming for you and I'm making war

[He takes a breath and then smiles. He pulls out his phone and begins to type those lyrics into the notepad feature.]

See? Like that.

[Though he's not sharing exactly what, or who, the subject was for that. Mostly because he's not sure himself.]

But yeah, Ankh and I argue sometimes. Haven't had a big fight about it yet. We come to compromises a lot.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie listens to this performance - intently, keenly, his expression for a moment guileless and wide-eyed and wondering, amazed at how naturally the words seem to flow from somewhere deep inside Ryouta. Then it's gone, and the mask is back in place, but there's a resolve that wasn't there before.

[Earlier he was just sort of idly contemplating lyric-writing, half-serious about it but largely indifferent to the idea; but now, after this display from Ryouta, it's something he really wants. Like most artistically-inclined people, he's inspired by other people's creativity, and his own intensely competitive nature - that drive to prove himself, to push his own boundaries - plays no small part in guiding him toward a decision.

[Jamie is going to have a writing credit on Flashstep's next album, come hell or high water. Or Manish Patil.]

That was [umg amazing Ryouta-sempai teach me] something. You just came up with that now? When you weren't even - [waggly hand gesture.] - in The Zone?

[yellowcopycat]

I think I got in the zone there for a minute.

[He gives Jamie a grin]

It comes and goes sometimes, you never know when sudden inspiration will strike!

[Except, that hadn't really been sudden. Well, the words had been, but the 'muse' hadn't been. He was thinking about that boy. That boy's whose image had been haunting him since the gala. He gives his a slight shake. Best not to think about it here.]