electric youth

“Come on, the shop’s just up this way, I swear!” Max made the promise without a clue in the world. He’d glanced down at his phone a few times, but couldn’t get the GPS off the ‘drive’ setting and so it’d been little to no help. “You won’t regret this journey, I promise!” 

“Do you know how many times you’ve said those words since we left?” They had a day off and Frida had intended on spending the majority of it sleeping, that was until Max came strolling in with a destination in mind. A change in their usual routine. “Could you at least tell me where exactly it is we’re going?”

“I don’t think it works like that,” the blonde chided, laughing now as she surveyed the colours that she had picked at random. “It adds character, you’ll thank me when twitter deems you super cool and relatable.” She plucked the cup back from Frida’s grip, setting it down so as to give her entire attention to swiping the colour on perfectly. “Nope,” Pearl answered, outlining the brunette’s lips. “Technically, there’s still me.” They were running behind today, likely she wouldn’t have the time to do herself up.

“Cool and relatable, that's all I’ve ever wanted.” She feigned a sigh and pressed a hand to her heart. Social media wasn’t a big concern for the girl despite it being how the band got started. Even with a somewhat manager telling her what she should say or post, she still did her own thing. “I on’t think it’ll be much of a problem. Half of my comments these days are about ‘that glow’.” And it was all Pearl’s doing. Frida made sure to tag her each time. “I don’t see why this is even necessary, do you know the amount of people that actually watch the video along with the interview? They mostly just listen.” 

Pearl laughed, reaching for her drink. The slushie of choice today was an electric blue, but the beverage was mixed with her desired daily weapon– Redbull. The blonde offered it to Frida, already grabbing for the curling wand that had been heating up while she had done her face. “Absolutely not, especially if there’s gonna be a camera.” She passed the brunette four lipsticks, “I’ll give you dealer’s choice.”

“We’ll tell them to Photoshop better hair onto my head,” Frida’s own slushie had been finished off almost as quickly as she’d gotten it. Her tongue bright pink from the synthetic cherry. “Which one would match better with my soon to be purple tongue?” She asked after taking a drink from Pearl’s cup. Her head tilted from one side to another, making it a show as she sang a song in her head to help her chose. “This one,” she finally said after a long silence, picking out a deep berry. “Am I the last one into hair and makeup?”

As per usual, Loren was not doing the job the way he was supposed to be doing it. He was barely even wearing the required security uniform. Not that there really was one. Nevertheless, he was just outside the tour bus, watching as fans passed by. “It’s hard to pick people up when you’re from Ohio. Can I start saying I’m from Cali or something?”

“If you’re gonna say you’re from Cali you’re gonna have to commit.” Frida said, sitting down on the bottom step of the bus as she worked the laces of her shoes. “You’re going to have to like start saying totally and like dude and like totally bitchin’,” she mocked in a feigned valley girl accent. 

Pearl paused, sighing with a massive fluffy brush poised in one hand. “You know, the better you sit for me, the faster this’ll get done,” the makeup artist reminded, tapping excess bronzer off of the bristles. “What were you thinking for your hair?”

Despite her best efforts, Frida was finding it difficult to keep herself in the same position as when she first sat down. Every time the brush went near her nose she’d sneeze, and every time Pearl opened her mouth to speak, she yawned. “It’s not my fault. I hate early call times.” She had an interview backstage in thirty minutes, but at this rate she wouldn’t be off the chair for another hour. “Can’t I just throw up in a bun and call it good?”