thoughts of you consume

He should have been excited— taking the sweet taste of adrenaline and the bitterness of anxiety to make the perfect mixture to get him through the night with little help. His nerves were always swallowed, but he wasn’t void of them. All of them had to be nervous at this point, and Blue was no exception. 

Yet, Blue wasn’t nervous. The prick and pull of his nerves wasn’t from the stress of saying the right thing or trying to pick out which voice in a swarm of camera flashes and yells to pay attention to. Tension pinned on every part of him came from the two people who stood the closest together. Every and any excuse brewed in his thoughts, claiming his focus to deter from the fact that Blue had simply turned a shade of green above all else. He’d fallen away to the background, moving along the carpet into the venue that seemed to get longer rather than shorter with every passing minute. Every time he thought he was ahead, he’d get stopped by a set of questions and they’d catch up. 

“Now, you know we gotta ask. What’s it like having a couple in the band, any fears of following suit of the greats?” The interviewer asked, keeping him in place long enough for at the very least Nana to get close. Attention was almost immediately darted towards her. “Oh, Nana! How are you? We were just asking about what it’s like to be dating within the band. So, what’s your take?”

Blue interjected to finish off the first question, remorse too weak to be felt. “It’s alright. We’re all friends, it’s bound to happen. But I mean, they’re not getting each other off— in front off us, that is, so it’s not weird. If anything, they’re just something pretty to look at.”

He could feel the knots in his stomach, and he swore that it was words that were acidic above all else. He knew the truth behind the facade they created, what feigned hues of the world stopping and submitting to the single palette of the other. There was a time where Blue had to take that same truth and hide it for Fionn’s sake. It had been their downfall, and what withered hadn’t been buried. It simply rotted until they both couldn’t handle the stench of it, and they pulled apart for good. No one knew, especially not Nana, and he couldn’t help the burn he felt watching someone else take the lie that ruined him and turn it into a pedestal. 

despite how nana gained more independence and security over the years, the road she took to get there was challenging, to say the least. luckily she met people who proved to her that good things come to those who wait, one of them being blue. not to discredit her other colleagues in the industry, but he was the closest thing to family she had after her short-lived solo career turned to dust. a friend of a friend turned roommate turned bandmate, blue helped her in more ways than one could imagine. afternoon daydream is just an extension of that, and she doesn’t want to lose it. though, nana would be found dead before muttering a single word.

“what? nuh-uh, there’s no way i’m letting you skip lunch for this! how about i order something for the both of us and we can work on this while we wait for it to arrive,” nana phrases it like a question, but her tone leaves no room for debate, already scrolling for possible options before the drummer could refuse. “are you feeling pizza? noodles?”

Now they were talking. After all the time they lived together, she knew exactly how to appease him and pull out whatever festering nonsense molted over him. She knew him better than most but it was a silent acknowledgment of knowing every tick, wrinkle, crinkle, and tock. Nodding along to her proposal before it was even in full swing, Blue found himself looking for the cash in his pocket to hand over his portion of the compromise. Two small objects came out with crinkled bills, looking up at him in their tempting glory in perfect proportion for the day.

“Walking is not your priority?” A thick brow lifts, the bassist blinking twice in disbelief.  He doesn’t  bother attempting to look understanding, condescension heavy in both tone and expression.  “That’s asinine, Sapphire.  What’s your plan if not to walk?  You going to barrel roll throughout the club, taking out every stiletto dancer you see by the ankles?” He snorts, but it seems the waifish girl he’d planned to drown in for thirty minutes did not find the joke funny, as she turns to go, muttering annoyances that he’s stopped.  

Kal tsks at Blue, watching as the boy follows and his arms are left empty.  “Christ, Sweeney, your spazzmania is a fucking infection.” He lopes an arm around the drummers shoulder, snaps a finger and throws his hand forward to gesture at the two walking away.  “They’re so repulsed by this conversation it’s forced them to abandon a surefire night of decent sex.” But he straightens quickly, his hold gone from the man as easily as it had been given. 

“Blows?” He shakes his head. “Nah, up until five seconds ago I’d have said it was alright.  Then someone fumbled around looking as blue as his name and ruined my fun.” By this point, Kal’s almost pouting, but he finishes the last of the beer in his hand and snorts. “At least you’re right on that. Poseur couldn’t tell you the difference between rushing or dragging.” Kal looked to the aforementioned player and raised an eyebrow. “Was he the one that crawled up your ass and gave you the frown?”

Blue shook his head, though the rare rationality in Khalil’s mouth did make some impression as he made a conscious decision to lock his knees when he staggered off to plant his feet. If he didn’t engage, there was a chance he’d bore the other man enough to simply drift away.

As soon as his hot breath bounced back from the bottom of an empty glass, Blue looked back to Khalil. The purse of his lips in an ever-present and disappointed untuck in his direction was met with two cold fingers as though he could silence the sight of it.

“You’re giving me too much power if you think I ruined your chances of getting off for the night. I think your stellar personality has got some role. Give yourself a little credit,” He started, words smooth under the lull that sat heavily on his tongue. With a shrug, Blue continued with a shake of his head. “That guy? Absolutely not, not a fucking chance. I think I’m just stuck between a buzz and being drunk, and my body can’t decide where it wants to be. What about you?”

The sound of his arm slamming into the punching bag came with a sickening sound, a squelch from where the skin that was ripped and torn raw peeling itself on and off of the plastic. It ached, but that was what Blue wanted. He wanted anything but the pit that pulled open from the weight of his own thoughts. This would heal, and that was the most important thing. He could distract himself with this over and over again, and it still had a beginning, end, and resolution.

He needed something more than just his music. It wasn't enough anymore, even though music had been what replaced this in the first place. Then, Blue was forced into silence and then he found a way to expel his thoughts and hopefully make him writhe. He knew he did. He had to. Blue's work was everywhere, and the topic was debated back and forth in just as many places. He'd been writing music for years as a means of cushioning the beginning of Afternoon Daydream's endeavors and while not everyone knew it was his work, the context of his work still created a spark for conversation. Many dismissed it because how could he be behind some of the storylines, and Blue's reputation of writing for other people had very quickly separated him from his work. Some days he didn't mind it because it kept away the backlash, but the ripple he craved for some truths never came.

He heard the gate buzz, but he didn't answer it. Anyone who needed him had a code, and knew where the key to the front door was just as easily. His hands were cut from guitar strings and his elbows cut from the edge of his drums to go and try and open the door himself. Hospitality was long gone.

"Who is it?" He asked, a huff of air parting his lips as he realized how long he'd been holding it. "If it's you, I'm not in the fucking mood."

so far, nana’s official redebut in afternoon daydream has been going off without a hitch. fans seem to be taking the news positively and it’s bringing even more buzz to the band than ever. everyone’s curious how her addition will affect the band’s dynamic considering her previous experience with them as a producer for so long. besides a few quarrels with a couple certain somebodies, she at least has positive rapport with the rest of the members, including the drummer in front of her. but at the studio, business means business when she’s in charge, and his attention has since been long gone.  “look, if you’re gonna act like you haven’t been drowning me out for the past ten minutes, you can at least do a better job,” she releases a drawn-out sigh, peering up from the monitor to her bandmate through the screen. “how about we take five minutes and come back to this later? seems like you need it.”

Blue wanted to ask for more than five minutes, maybe even five days but he knew better than to entertain even the thought of it. The hum of excitement that hung around Afternoon Daydream should have been invigorating, but there was a small sense of guilt creeping in on him now for seemingly denying them of it so long ago. Blue continued to remind himself that this was a far better break than the one he turned down, but the feeling remained. He blamed it on the band’s expansion and how nostalgia for how things were had taken a small toll on him. Though, Blue knew if he mentioned to anyone that he was having trouble with change, they would call bullshit. What was it that they said to him, something about being a pisces and going with the flow? And so he kept it to himself, and the pen and paper in his hands.

After parties were a mixed bag.  A good after party could take a shitty show and leave Kal’s memories of the night rose colored and sweet.  However, a bad after party could ruin his vibe on even the best of nights.  Most of the time, the universe landed somewhere in the middle, and tonight? Tonight was prime middle of the road after party. Their show had been good - no major hiccups but nothing sensational-  and the groupies were maaaaaaaaybe solid 7′s.  He wasn’t sure, the Midwest wasn’t known for its gorgeous people.

For now, his arm was slung across a skinny girl who’d flashed him at the end of the show, winking at the baggie peaking between her tits. It was predictable for him but he didn’t claim to be an enigma. Somewhere between the stage and this club’s bar, he’d picked up another person too - a thin boy, short haired and glassy eyed.  They made an eager duo and Kal saw the night ending in an easy threesome -  and that was when he ran straight into Blue. 

“You forget how to walk, Cyan?” He catches the man by the shoulder, managing to make the steadying gesture drip with condescension.  “I can give you a tutorial, if you need. Typically, it’s one foot after the other.” He’s smirking, all jeer, but the worry in Blue’s eyes doesn’t escape him - the odd dilation.  If he didn’t know better, he’d think the drummer was also on something. 

The familiar scent of his bandmate pulled him out of forced fixation, crinkling his nose as alcohol and perfume from his newfound company for the night made themselves known. He would never admit to it out loud, but some times he was thankful for Khalil’s antics and interruptions. More often than not, it was Blue’s thoughts that clouded his focus than whatever distraction the other man was causing. 

“Not on the top of my priorities right now,” He said, chin tilted to the empty glass in his own hand but eyes not quite reaching Khalil’s yet. Blue had never preached sobriety since their move to major music scene, but he had turned away from it. It was only now that he’d started to entertain the concept again, especially after the scar on the corner of his mouth had finally healed from the last time he’d drank. They’d all seen him drunk plenty of times, but it had been so long that even seeing them through the haze felt odd. “Gotta take advantage of the free shit.”

The room seemed to move too slow, and once again he felt his focus pin point on every single thing but what he could curve to his bidding. His body swayed under drunken steps, but he was more focused on how the tone of the music changed to something far too soft and how he could hear his voice from across the rooftop. 

Finally, Blue found the words again and incredulously announced disappointed into the air in hopes of jabbing it right into the one person whose pedestal should shake, “This thing blows, am I right? Did you miss the opening number of the latest addition to the label? Guy thinks he defines the entire brand of this place."

fernanda was never the one to network. she was comfortable with the people she knew and change wasn’t something she sought out. she was entirely grateful for blue to always be around , more than ever especially. of course she had her passions and a vision for what she wanted to do in the future , but she had blue to thank for all of the big leaps of faith she ever taken in her life.

she had a habit of tuning people out. it was peculiar. everything externally would make it seem as if she was intently listening. she’d nod her head and even say a few ‘yeah’s or 'mhm’s to indicate she was listening , but none of it was actually process in her head. that’s exactly what was happening the past hour. the only solution she thought would help the situation was taking advantage of the wine that was flowing into their cups. after a small hiccup and a small headache growing on the right side of head , fernanda decided she couldn’t sit there for any much longer.

so , she did what she used to do at dinners when they were younger to get blue’s attention. after a few light nudges from her leg to his under the table , blue’s eyes said it all. fernanda tilted her head to the side , towards the direction of the restrooms and slightly widened her eyes. ’ m'excuse me. ’, her voice slightly cracked from not speaking for a while as she got up from the table and moved along towards the restroom. instead of entering , she stood in the corner , waiting for the other , with her arms crossed.

How Fernanda managed to keep him at beck and call was something Blue liked to deny or stay in the dark about— but he knew exactly how she did it. They’d known each long enough for him to look to her as a younger sister in certain moments and feel responsible not only for whatever chaos she tried to chase, but her comfort above all. He used to look for her approval, some kind of wonder behind her eyes that ensured him that yes, this is great! but as of late, it was always a search for something wrong as though it was inevitable. Well, he’d gotten it and now it was time to make it right. 

Her boredom, however, wasn’t unwarranted. Though Blue was known for his free spirit, it had been him that turned the casualty of the evening slowly on its head to build opportunity. Business went round and round tucked between sips of wine and laughter, but an easy night died early on. It would have been better had they all not started drinking so early, but Blue would plant the seed to be remembered no matter what.