Have We Talked About Plots For Musicians Beforethey Make It Big Though? Because Heres A Few:

have we talked about plots for musicians before they make it big though? because here’s a few:

you just attended one of my gigs away from home, there were barely any people in the audience and i can’t afford gas to go back home just yet. can i crash at your place so i don’t have to sleep in my car?

i play in the streets and you walk past me every day and i make up little songs about something you’re doing/wearing/carrying every time

you saw me crying after one of my emotional songs and checked up on me afterwards

we’re dating and the distance is hard while i’m touring because we can never afford to see each other and my gigs are always during weird hours

i’m touring, you’re hitchhiking, hop in the van and let’s go

i’m famous, you’re not, i just caught you sneaking into one of my parties to hand someone your demo but i’m amused enough to hear you out

one of my bandmates always hooks up with someone after the shows in the space we share so i’m left to fend for myself and you’re sympathetic to my plight

just give me plots where shit is hard and trying and sometimes they think their careers won’t pan out but there’s also a lot of crazy stories and great memories to carry on ok

a scoff escapes as she stares at him, pausing a beat too long wondering if he's indeed being as serious as he somehow manages to be. does being sleep-deprived for a little longer than a day make someone go delusional? "fine. fine. okay, i was definitely making a move. happy now? do you want to send your secret admirer to the police now when i've been nothing but nice?" if denial wouldn't work, perhaps playing along would and he would give up on the idea that she was hitting on him. in all her experiences of telling jokes, she's never quite gotten a reaction as his. as baffling as it's starting to become, she couldn't deny that it's amusing. she meets his bewildered look with a confused look of her own, head tilting slightly and not even bothering to start guessing what he meant by 'everything'. "nah, i do competitive cheerleading. no offense if you're a fan of those sports, it's boring cheering for people chasing a ball around." she explains. never not latching onto the opportunity of sharing about what she loves the most in the world that is cheerleading, she's about to continue talking when her train of thoughts is broken by the appearance of his phone. "wow. thought you would tell me to go to a public phone or something." taking the phone into her hand and opening the dial pad, she risks a glance at him as a mischievous thought forms as she starts to key in a string of numbers. "aren't you curious where my phone is?"

again, the 'insult' hardly fazes him, just because he knows that he's ridiculous in his own rights. cyrus is known to pester and prod and come up with lame jokes himself but right now, he's thankful that she's covered most of that so that he doesn't have to. ❝ oh yeah? trying harder than to come up with clever jokes that have already probably been used before? come on, let's not kid ourselves. did you wanna make a move now? knowing that i'm sleep-deprived and my senses are dulled? god, maybe i should hand you right over to the police. ❞ cyrus isn't being serious, of course, but the way he speaks has just enough of a sharpness to it that he could be. almost choking on the last bit of soda at the bottom of his can, cyrus looks over at her with disbelief written all over his face, his jaw parted ever so slightly. ❝ you're a cheerleader? that explains the.... ❞ he mimics the same as she does, hand out to gesture all over her person, ❝ well, everything. are you on one of those sports ball trips? ❞ didn't even bother pretending like he knew what sports people were interested in these days. with a shake of his head, fingers smush the can right down to the base, sticky fingers wiping down the rounded edge of the can. ❝ nope, i'm always like this. but yeah, you can use my phone, ❞ of which he hands over to her. the sooner he can get away, the better.

"it was a joke." geonhu all but deadpans, looking pointedly at his friend. he likes to think he knows suho quite well, probably better than he does anyone else, and there's a sense of dread that fills him at the realization that of course suho would take it as a good idea. "no progress reports, please. this is not a science project, dude." taking a sip of his drink, he nods then, "no badmouthing each other. agreed. but you have to admit, some of those are fun to tell. like your backwards uniform." embarrassing, but entertaining. for him at least, geonhu has never really been one to let those moments keep him awake at nights, after all. "or like that time when they made me become shrek for our class play? didn't know being grumpy at everyone could be so fun." a chuckles leaves him as he pushes his drink away, resting his elbows on the table. "also, if she ever invites one of us out for a private hangout or something, we should tell the other. no secrets, no hard feelings."

Suho tapped his finger absentmindedly on the table, gaze flickering so he could stare at nothing in particular, as he thought about it, wanting to ensure that they can carry this on without a hitch. He wasn't delusional enough to believe this had zero possibility to blow up in their faces, but he could at least lessen the chances. "A progress report could be a good idea..." he started, then turned to face Geonhu once again. "I was also thinking along the lines of we can't badmouth each other. No unfortunate high school stories and such. My downfall can't be that I showed up to class one morning in grade seven with my uniform on backwards."

"you're ridiculous" is the only thing yixia says at last, not quite getting how he's jumping to all his reasonings and conclusion so quick, as if nothing she's said has even made an impact in that head of his. she shouldn't even be surprised, she realizes just a beat too late, considering none of her jokes or her attempts at convincing him that her obsession with said jokes is in fact, harmless and entertaining have worked on him. "listen, if i were to hit on you, i would've done more and tried harder." even though she is unclear exactly how, but that probably doesn't include telling the not so flattering story of her being left behind just for spending too long in the washroom. "i'm a cheerleader, a nerd is the last thing people would ever call me." she protests rather defensively, giving him a pointed look. "you look more like a nerd than me, one who doesn't know how to appreciate jokes." a half-hearted childish retort that leaves her in a huff, leaning back against the back of the bench again, before looking over at him, eyebrows raised at his mixture of self-dig and self compliment of a statement that surprisingly seems like the truth. "why are you even awake for so long? i see that explains"— she gestures vaguely at him with a hand then— "the attitude then. do you take jokes better when you're not sleep-deprived?" huffing again, the same hand is extended to him then, palm upward. "can i borrow your phone then? so i can call them and remind them that they should definitely come back for their dear friend here?"

❝ as far as i'm concerned, that's exactly what you did. the drink was out of necessity more than anything, i wouldn't let that get to your head.. ❞ because as good as cyrus was at taking care of other people, taking care of himself was an entirely different story. ❝ nope, ❞ he shakes with a resolute shake of his head. ❝ i think you're lying. using that as an excuse to prey on people. i can't believe you. i was just sitting here minding my own business and you decided to USE me. ❞ her fantastical story didn't surprise him in the least, having already figured out that her imagination was the sharpest tool in that box of a head she has. ❝ oh please, don't look at me like you're surprised. someone was bound to call you that eventually. ❞ the fact that he was able to shock her, however, was a win in itself and the smile on his face grows without his notice. ❝ i actually am. i think this is.... ❞ cyrus pauses, lifting his wrist to show off the casio calculator watch that rests around it, ❝ hour twenty-eight that i've been awake? doesn't look like it, huh? because i've mastered the act of being a zombie and still looking cute while doing it. ❞ eyes roll and he doesn't buy her little story one bit, the taller shifting in his seat ever so slightly. ❝ guess they just didn't care to keep you around. ❞

he has to agree. old habits certainly die hard, and he supposes apparently that includes feelings too. there was always something so complicated and confusing whenever he thinks about lily kwon, even more so now as he looks at her just close within reach. "not long enough to make friends so i don't look completely like a miserable loner and an outsider here." noah replies, chuckling lightly as he shakes his head. not that he's that opposed to that idea, it's better than small talk. once upon a time he has enjoyed talking to people, but the older he gets, the more he's just tired of it all. yet small talk with her now is just about the thing he would prefer than being alone now. "what about you? lost your companion?"

A bittersweet smile tugged on the sides of her lips, and she quickly took another swig of her drink before turning around and focusing her attention on the crowd-- partygoers who, like her, didn't want to be miserable on their own on new year's eve, she was sure. "Yes, well, old habits die hard, I guess," she said, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. There was a sense of comfort in talking to someone she actually knew, even though it was Noah of all people, and maybe, despite her previous statements to her family, she didn't quite want to spend the evening all alone. "When did you get back?" she asked, without removing her gaze from the people on the dance floor, no doubt already looking for their partners for the countdown. "Are you here with someone?"