#☆ — this mental pressure got me poppin' pills and shit. ( fayze. )

[theateared]

     ❝ We’re on in ten, mop-head. ❞      ❝ I hear ya, blowie. ❞

     Both musicians spared their counterpart a callous scoff of humour as they made the finishing touches to their set-list outfits.  They both tended to gravitate towards street-wear anyway, but given the grungy nature of their lyrics, it couldn’t be a more perfect match.  At the very least, they had a manager that was willing to let them lead  ( mostly )  on the wardrobe front.  Their overall aesthetic was, for the most part, alarmingly simple:  denim jackets with patches and belts;  baggy pants and thick hoodies three sizes too large;  skinny jeans and pullover jumpers.

     Fayze’s signature look for their most recent album was an oversized purple bomber jacket and tight-fitting jeans.  The back donned a neon-blue outline of his album cover artwork, its name scrawled in a graffiti-esque font, OBSESSIVE. .Seb would be the first to say that he looked amazing in it.  The kid had come from nothing, yet he had such a keen eye for fashion.

     ❝ Is your sax ready to go? ❞   Fayze asked with a confident grin before stretching in front of the mirror, his eyes screwed shut.

     ❝ Always, ❞   Seb replied, pulling the instrument to his chest, adjusting the strap until it rested comfortably against his shoulder.      ❝ Voice-box all hot ‘n’ loaded? ❞

     ❝ Let’s see... ❞   The saxophonist winced as Fayze produced an ear-splitting shriek of confirmation, the noise ringing in his ears long after his mouth had closed again.  Singing was his gift, well and truly, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t make  God-awful  sounds when he went out of his way to.   ❝ Yuh. ❞

     ❝ Motherfucker, ❞   he grunted, one hand rubbing gently at the tender spot below his ear, lips forming an amused half-smile as he gazed at him.  You’re the best best friend in the world.  There’s nobody else I’d want as my right-hand man.    ❝ Let’s blow their fuckin’ minds-- ❞

     ❝ -- so they can blow our DICKS, ❞   Fayze finished, finger-gunning at his co-star jubilantly, revelling in the whoop of camaraderie that Seb gave him as they began to leave the fitting room together.  It’s just a joke between friends, a hype-up to bat away the pre-stage jitters.  It isn’t like we truly think of our following like that--  they’re the best fuckin’ audience we could ever hope to have.  They always will be.

#☆ — this mental pressure got me poppin' pills and shit. ( fayze. ) #☆ — i never promised you your dream boy. ❜ ( main. ) #☆ — i'm just here to destroy. ❜ ( ic. ) #drabble * #/ IT AIN'T REALLY A DRABBLE BUT LIKE #I JUST WANT ALL MY STUFF TO BE TOGETHER #so take this introductory fayze and seb thing it's mainly just meant to outline #their career as vide's most successful people TO DATE and their beautiful fuckin friendship

[theateared]

What a Show. ❜

Summary:  Edgar needs man-power for his political ventures in Vide.

     ❝ Quite the show-stopper, aren’t you? ❞

     He watched the young celebrity turn his head to regard him, that signature smile forming on his face.  When Edgar had first made his way into the  club,  he’d felt severely out of his element.  It lacked class;  people danced  ( though he preferred to say ‘flailed’ )  far too close together;  the drinks were the equivalent of water;  the air was thick with smoke from the legal highs that were on the house.

     ❝ Wow.  You’re tall, ❞   Fayze said with a laugh, hands delving into his pockets as he stared up at the lye.   ❝ Thanks a bunch.  Just tryna make people relax, y’know?  Zone out.  Take a hit. ❞

     ❝ Well I must say, job well done!  What a show.  I was even willing to stomach this...  garish, establishment for the sake of seeing you perform.  It was worth every drug-infused moment. ❞   Typically, the kind of music that somebody like Fayze produced--  songs about drugs, money and sex, all with some underlying ‘trap’ beat, even in spite of the, in his opinion, far superior saxophone solos--  wasn’t of interest to him.  However, the critics had been right this time around:  there  was  just something about the angelic pipes on that kid.  He made the darkest admissions sound sweet;  pretty lies, and even prettier politics.  

     I certainly didn’t miss your subtle comments about the elites.      Everybody else was either too high or didn’t understand the context.     You’re not as dumb as you look.     I bet you had to be sneaky to get those lyrics greenlit, too.

     ❝ Where you from? ❞   Fayze asked bluntly.

     ❝ Huron. ❞

     ❝ Oh... ❞   Edgar raised an eyebrow slowly, about to make an off-handed comment about not expecting prejudice from such a public figure when the musician suddenly cut in with a laugh, hands waving frantically.   ❝ Ain’t a problem!  ‘s just, I know a guy from Huron.  Real amazin’ musician, too.  We collab sometimes.  Super sweet guy.  You don’t look like him, with the lack of horns ‘n’ all, so I was thrown off! ❞

     ❝ Ahh... ❞   It made sense, he’d give him that, though he’d admit that he was somewhat skeptical.  It was most likely overly cynical of him, but he didn’t anticipate many regarding him with a fresh pair of eyes.  Lyes were well-known--  or at least, their  bullshit  mythology  was.   ❝ I may be friends with said man.  He may have urged me to attend one of your performances. ❞

     The superstar snapped his fingers.   ❝ That fuckin’ Murr--  such a match-maker.  Seems to make friends with all sorts of people, too.  I mean, we’re probably on different ends of the spectrum, yeah?  I’m a go-with-the-flow kinda guy;  you’re suited up for business.  It’s cool.  I can vibe with that.  Don’t got a problem with nobody just doin’ their thing. ❞

     Wow.  The one thing that Murr had reminded Edgar of before his departure was that Fayze was  extremely  easy-going.  He kept his nose out of other peoples’ business, and though he embraced dark topics and trauma in his art, he seemed as sunny as a Summer’s day in terms of disposition.  However, the sheer  acceptance  from somebody so young was staggering to him.

     Are you so high that you  forget  to be racist?  Or are you just truly that free of judgement?

    ❝ Business is right, kid, ❞   he replied with his signature grin, a gloved hand stuck out towards him.  He noted that the boy didn’t even hesitate before locking his fingers around his, delivering a firm shake in spite of his small stature.  Average height, but you look like you’ve been skipping meals, son.  Is it the industry’s fault?  Or is there more truth to your music than you care to admit in private?    ❝ But that’s not the purpose of tonight’s visit.  Tonight, I simply came to see you in action.  Watch you thrive in your own environment.  Riveting stuff, really. ❞

     ❝ Sure you’re not tryna swindle me?  Talkin’ pretty sweet for a fella who ain’t mentioned his paycheck yet, yeah? ❞

     Edgar couldn’t fight back the chuckle.  Sharp.  It doesn’t match your eyes.   ❝ No, I’m not looking to become a manager.  I already have enough responsibilities. ❞   He gestured to the booth behind them, hoping he could have a proper conversation with the young star before he was next called out on stage.  He was surprised to see him go for a bottle of  water  as opposed to the complimentary alcohol that had been left on the table.    ❝ I shan’t keep you long. ❞

     ❝ Oh, psh, don’t sweat it, suits.  I go up when they say I do.  ‘til then, I’m all yours. ❞

     ❝ Excellent... ❞   Already, he could feel a plan hatching in his brain.  The political movement in Vide was beginning to grow, and with him at the helm of it, he needed to secure people that the masses would listen to.

                        Who  did  fit the bill if not the most famous man in Vide?

#🞮 — if i could i'd trade my heart for a second brain. ❜ ( edgar. ) #☆ — this mental pressure got me poppin' pills and shit. ( fayze. ) #☆ — i never promised you your dream boy. ❜ ( main. ) #☆ — i'm just here to destroy. ❜ ( ic. ) #/ OOOHOHOHOOHOOHOHOOOOHHH #.................. i lov fayze too............. #i'm gonna try and write something PROPER tomorrow but for now i am dying and have this