control booth babe

         while wes would like to think that his musical range is about the widest at darden college ( despite knowing hardly anyone on campus that well ), when ed references two of the bands that they listen to, wes has to fake a laugh like he knows what they’re talking about, though he does tuck the two names away to look up as soon as he gets home. 

          “i don’t like to necessarily limit myself.” wes shrugs, but he nods his head at the same time. “i love indie pop for sure, and if i had to pick one genre to perform for the rest of my life it would probably be that, but my musical preference is pretty broad.” turning towards the jazz section he’s already filtered through, he points in its direction, adding: “i love jazz. and i like variations of jazz, when electronica is incorporated i think the sound can be really special. couldn’t say a bad word about r&b or rap, even though i’m not an avid listener, and while i don’t think i’ve ever been caught buying a country album i don’t hate the genre.” he explains, not realizing how detailed he’s actually making his answer when she likely doesn’t care all that much. “music is about the passion you put into it and i can appreciate how almost any genre can be passionate and elicit an emotional response.”

        “all that being said, i fucking hate classical music.” he frowns, eyes darting over to the section in particular like it has personally offended him. “i’m trained in it and my mother would like to say i’m the next vladmir horowitz, it’s the bane of my existence. there’s no passion, it’s all technique.” 

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While Houston was technically better known for its hip-hop scene, there was no shortage of alternative stuff popping up, and Austin always had live shows happening. Ed had been sneaking off to the bigger city since they’d made their first friend who knew how to drive. It was music that had sparked- no pun intended- her interest in the technical side of things, beyond pointing a camera and capturing a story. So naturally, the record store in California was one of the places she’d wasted her days off in when she was mooching around town before school began.

“Yeah, same.” Ed nodded, about limitations on taste., tipping their head to watch Wes as he went on about the rest of the music he liked, still examining records from the corner of her eye for anything bright, shiny, or cool looking. “I like hip-hop- I think that’s basically a requirement for anyone raised in Houston- and bubblegum pop, too.” 

Aha, must be more of a musician than the acting type then. On stage for the opportunity to belt something out, regardless of what it was. Ed quirked a brow when his attitude soured at the mere mention of classical music- something he apaprently hated so much, he had to bring it up. They weren’t sure they agreed with his there’s no passion verdict, but Ed wasn’t here to ruffle any feathers and Wes was entitled to his taste, so whatever. “Right. I mean, I don’t know who Vladmir Horowitz is, but I’m sure you could be a Ralph Castelli type instead. Mothers get over it eventually.” They clacked their tongue stud against the back of their teeth and grinned, “or they give up on you. Either way.” Ed shrugged, sliding a record sleeve out from the stack. “Juno” Ed reads out loud, “by Remi Wolf.” They turn the sleeve around to show it to Wes, “cover is cool. I like the colours. What say you about the music?”

Charlotte scoffed and chuckled, a wry look on her face all of a sudden. “I mean, at least not for now.” She offered, a slightly out of the box joke she hoped would land and not send the other running. At the very least they shared a sentiment about longing for celebrity biographies to be funny. “You know what you should read if you want funny? I really like Mindy Kaling’s books… though, I don’t know. You might be too cool for it.” It was a half teasing, half serious statement, Lottie wasn’t quite sure about their vibe yet, but she could guess a little based on this interaction at least. 

“Oh, cool!” Though the musical was currently a source of her constant anxiety and stress at the moment, Lottie still lit up at the mention of it. She was very much of the mindset that every person who helped put together a musical was equally important and had been eager to get to know everyone else working on it. Maybe her trip out of her dorm had been an even better idea than she’d thought. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.” Realising what she’d been doing with her hands, she unclasped them, holding one out to the other, her lips pressing together at the question of what role she was going up for. 

“Well, the lead, if possible. If I don’t blow it.” Her eyes widened, soft laughter leaving her that she swiftly regretted. 

.

Ed’s mouth ticked up into a toothy grin, and they shook their head. “I’m sure when tech week rolls around I might want a few tips, but I don’t think I’ll be wringing any necks before then.” They wouldn’t have total command over the booth- unfortunately- given that they were just a freshman, but Ed was pretty sure by virtue of their attitude and experience alone they’d be pretty involved. (They were dying to know just how many shades of red, green, and yellow gels the theatre department here had.)

Too cool. Well, that was new. No one had ever thought Edith Rogers was too cool for anything. That was the bonus to surrounding themself with musical theatre nerds, they supposed. Now Ed with their tongue piercing and tech capabilities was cool instead of weird. They laughed softly, “she was on The Office, right?” Ed clarified, “and wrote some of the episodes? I was never obsessed with the show or anything, but I liked it enough. Maybe I’ll hunt down one of her books.” She took the handshake when it was offered, nodding. “Yeah, good to meet you too.” They’d met a couple of seniors already, though that was mostly because they’d been in town quite a while before the first semester started, so good to have another freshman on their aquintance list.

Right, aiming big. Ed nodded again, “makes sense. I guess going for the bigger roles is kinda the point, huh? I’m really not an actor, so.” They shrugged, “but I wouldn’t doubt yourself like that, y’know? What’s that rule? Don’t say Macbeth in the theatre? Don’t doubt your shot before auditions have even started.”

The second that Lottie’s reference seemed to go amiss, she was cringing and shaking her head. “Oh, god, don’t worry.” She stifled a laugh behind her hand, almost embarrassed to have brought it up at all. There wasn’t exactly anything to be proud of in informing this stranger about how much of her time had once been taken up by a musical show with questionable storylines. Instead, she smiled softly, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Good point, but still. I’m not some big Barba Streisand fan, I’m just… thinking about the musical. I’m auditioning for it… and I don’t really know if the book is funny. I don’t think enough celebrity biographies are funny. Too many are sad or uncomfortable.” Her face scrunched up and her eyes searched the shelf for a moment before she could point out an example. 

“Like, maybe not the OJ Simpson book, for example? Doesn’t seem like a super enjoyable read.” She suggested and then placed her hands behind her back, her fingers linking together. “I’m Lottie, by the way. You go to Darden, right?”

.

She was cute, in that Disney Princess way. It wasn’t a shock to hear that she’d be auditioning for the musical- Eddie was no actress, but she’d been to enough shows, worked backstage enough, she recognized the vibe- “right. I don’t think ‘got away with murder’ is really the type of thing I’m after right now.” They agreed with a nod, their gaze cutting back to the shelves to keep looking, “but you’re right. I wish more of them were funny.” It was hard to write funny, they knew, but with the massive teams these people had at their backs surely they could pull together some stuff a bit more entertaining.

“Yeah, I do. I’m gonna be working the control booth for the musical.” They watched her clasp her hands behind her back, and didn’t offer theirs out to shake. Might be a germaphobe, or something. “I’m Ed, or Eddie.” She probably wouldn’t even tell anyone at Darden her birth name; kids in high school had loved calling her Edith whenever they wanted to piss her off. It definitly didn’t suit them, and wouldn’t until they became an old biddie with a blue rinse and too many cats. “You going up for a big role, or what?”

         it really shouldn’t be a big deal now, considering it’s been just about six years since wes has been famous ( although he wasn’t even relatively that famous, just a loveable child star ), but he always feels a wave of relief wash over him whenever someone makes it clear that they don’t know who he is. he smiles, his normal guard not totally down but at least lowered enough to make the other comfortable. “yeah, he’s got some great songs. bends is my personal favorite.” he points to the first song on the back of the album, shrugging his shoulders. “is that the kind of mood you’re in right now?” he asks, his eyes scanning the racks around them to see if there’s anything else that he can suggest. rex orange county… steve lacy… two door cinema club… but then it hits him that he hasn’t exactly introduced himself yet. “i’m wes,” he says, his shoulders bouncing a litlte. “and you picked very well. i’m thinking you should pick another album based on appearances, and hopefully i won’t know it – maybe you’ll pick find my new favorite.” he suggests, gesturing at the other titles around them, hopeful that they’ll strike album art gold.

Ed knew going to this fancy school full of wannabe superstars would be bad for their wallet. Especially considering how tight it had gotten with her mothers’ conditions. But a little indulgence like a record or two wouldn’t kill her, especially if she resisted buying take-out. Or just only got it when she was hanging out with Wes, and he paid. “I figured my dorm mate probably doesn’t apreciate me blasting shit like Opeth and Brutus every night, so I should expand my collection of more chill tunes.” Ed explained, shrugging.

Wes. Ed would try to remember. At least if he was a rich rising star type he wasn’t too cool for a game of pick a record with the random person who went to his college. “I’m down.” They turned back to the vinyls, starting to flip idly through the sleeves to find a cover that would catch their eye, “so guessing you’re an indie pop kind of guy then?” Ed asked with a hum, glancing back for a moment.

Hearing the other’s response, Spencer raised a brow and released a low chuckle. “You know, some would argue that’s the optimal time to bet. When you have nothing left to lose.” Save for the likely probability of losing money one didn’t even possess, driving themself into a bottomless pit of debt, eagerly welcoming a plethora of additional catastrophic difficulties on top of the initial ones that landed them in whatever desperate situation that lead them gambling to begin with. Logically, Spencer was aware that no matter what, there was always the potential for things to become worse. Therefore, the philosophy of having nothing to lose was a mere fallacy. Instead of understanding that and using it to fuel an optimistic outlook, Spencer almost considered it a challenge, a game he played with life, as though he was trying to figure out  just how low he could get, how deep he could dig his own grave, how hard he could plummet to rock bottom. If asked, he’d be unable to provide a clear explanation as to why, and lack any desire to make an attempt. He just seemed to have a knack for going above and beyond when it came to his own self destruction. Everyone had their talents. He rested his head in his hand as he studied them for a moment. Despite never in a million years having any intention in admitting it out loud, they raised have a valid point. He could have just ordered another drink for himself, in fact he likely would resign to that option soon enough… but it was only then that he realized he recognized them. Not from any classes, but with a school as small and secluded as Darden, it was easy to remember faces even if you’ve only seen them in passing from one class to the next. “You go to Darden, right?” He asked before skipping ahead to the follow up questions without giving her a chance to answer the first. “Freshmen? Unless you got through a whole year here and still don’t have any friends to drink with in which case… well it’s a good thing you found me! The instant someone hears ’people person’ they can’t help envision my face crystal clear as day, ask anyone. Still, even if you’re new, a little advice seldom hurt, and the first piece is sharing is an excellent way to make friends with someone.” If someone were to untangle all of the lies, hypocrisies and absurdities to everything Spencer had just said within the past minute, they’d be there for hours. Not to mention, his right to critique one’s level of friendliness was annihilated the moment he mistook an act of theft as a greeting gesture.

.

Ed tipped their head to the side and hummed, “I said I was broke, not that I have nothing to loose.” They countered, sizing him up. Honestly they could probably wouldn’t be able to win a fight against him, but that had never stopped them before. Not that they were going to get into a brawl over a beer, or anything else insignificant like that. They shouldn’t be getting into fights anymore full stop, considering they went to a fancy college now and all. It was a hard switch to turn off, but Ed had promised their mother that they’d at least try, and they knew that if they got kicked out there’d be no way they could afford another college on their own. So yeah, Ed had plenty to loose. Just not money.

Darden. So he was definitly a student, then. Ed sipped her beer while he prattled on, setting it down with a bemused look on her face. She’d bet any money he was an actor, right, one of those who never got told no. “Y’know it’s funny, for a people person you skipped a couple of steps in your ‘making new college friends’ bit there. Like giving me your name, or asking mine. But yeah, I’m a freshman. Name’s Ed. And call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure people don’t share pints. Cigarettes, maybe. A big bottle of cheap tequila, the latest hot gossip.” They shrug, “unfortunately I’m fresh out of two of the three.”