i try to write you POEMS, but the words they don't make s e n s e.
the hand tries to grip the pencil, but the fingers are [ too tense. ] i try to show E M O T I O N , but my eyes won't seem to wet.
i'd LOVE to tell you stories, but I can't remember how they ( w e n t )
Moony was a little caught off guard with how quickly Benji answered his question, finding it difficult to take it as an authentic response as opposed to a rehearsed one. He continued to watch the other manās body language as it was a hell of a lot more expressive than Benjiās words. It was hard to be anything but confused.Ā āWell Iām glad youāve got it figured out,ā He chuckled.Ā āGives me a little hope since we started in similar places.ā He licked his lips in thought trying to get them back to where the conversation had started.Ā āIf thatās not bothering you, what is?ā He tried.Ā āItās not like I want to run around and air your dirty laundry, you just seem like you need someone to talk to.ā
Benji took the time to breathe in a full breath of air, his lungs protesting with the effort of releasing the air slowly enough for him to mentally count to ten in every language he knew. It was a poor attempt at buying time as a distraction as he fought his temper, which evidently, still wasnāt enough. He was irrationally angry with Moonyās persistence and he knew it, but the frustration roared through his veins all the same. After a lifetime of professionally dodging personal questions and burying his own emotions somewhere deep, this consistent display of affection felt too much like a trap, and it was exhausting.Ā āWhy do you even want to know? It doesnāt affect you, how I feel.ā It wasnāt much of an answer at all, certainly not the one that the other man wanted nor the one that Benji intended to give, but the question bursted out of his mouth all the same, scathing yet vulnerable enough to offer a rare glimpse into his mind, and for once, he indulged in his curiosities.Ā
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Zara scrunched up her face,Ā āAre you okay?ā she asked seeing the boy clearly struggling to come up with words. Her first thought was that maybe heād recently sent a similar text but she really hoped not- thatād be more awkward of a conversation than she had currently prepared to enter herself in.
Benji huffed, scrunching up his face in a petty retaliation to match her own, rolling his eyes and everything. He was growing extremely tired of everybody asking him that question on this tour.Ā āYes, fuck. I was agreeing with you.ā He explained, his exasperation clear on his face, not making any effort to bother hiding it.Ā āWhy donāt you just, I donāt know, delete the number or something?ā He offered, pragmatic, as if it was the most glaring solution and he was shocked she didnāt come up with it on her own.
āOof,ā Zara said looking down at her phone before looking at the person in front of her,Ā āThatĀ āI miss youā text is really something exās canāt help themselves with, huh,ā she asked liking to keep her past in her past.
Benji blinked twice, abruptly drawn out of his own thoughts and confused at the sudden attempt at conversation. He even put in the effort of fully turning and glancing around the space behind him, certain that he would find somebody passing by that Zara was offering the comment to, but ultimately baffled to find it was just him and her.Ā āOh. Uh.ā He offered dumbly, studying her for a second longer as his mind buffered. As childish as it was, he always associated Zara with his hatred for all things fashion and being forced into putting even the tiniest bit of effort into his image, and as a result often struggled to find a middle-ground for small talk.Ā āYes. Itās... the worst.ā He decided finally, as if he had any real experience with the subject matter -- the closest thing to anĀ āexā that he had was anybody he hooked up with twice in a row.
Moony couldnāt help but feel a slight twang of discomfort as Benji seemed to scan his face, wondering what the other was looking atā¦ or for. He didnāt move though, letting the other do his thing and at least hoping he would get whatever answer he needed.Ā āYeah,ā He agreed, his body releasing just the slightest bit of tension he had been holding when Benji leaned back. Up until recently the only pressure he had been feeling was surrounded around the idea of messing up or otherās not liking his music, but his management had piled a bunch more on after the other nightās events. He tried not to dwell on it though, knowing it could easily swallow him.Ā āItās different, but I guess different is always bad,ā He decided.Ā āIs that whatās bothering you though?ā
āNo.ā Benji responded to the accusation far too quickly, barely a second passing between them before he had opened his mouth to deny the accusation -- even he could hear how hollow the word sounded. His lips screwed into a scowl, clearly displeased with the way he had allowed the denial to tumble off his tongue, before he had the time to cushion it with fabricated indifferences. It wasnāt a full lie. He certainly wasnāt strung out like he had been on hisĀ first tour, widely unsure and still eager to please. The weight forced on his shoulders was different now, still heavy enough to threaten to crack his collar bones with each wheezing breath, but circling around the threat to keep his facade in place rather than the simplicity of inexperience and nerves.Ā He schooled his expression away into unbothered cockiness once again, as if he was fooling anybody at this point, gesturing a hand vaguely to the space around them to reference their lives in the spotlight as a whole. āThis isnāt my first tour, or first anything. Iāve got it figured out by now, clearly.ā
Moony continued to watch Benjiās movement. He was almost immediately thrown into his drunken mindset from the other night, wishing he could read the otherās thoughts as he clearly had a lot of them.Ā āYou just seem very up in your head,ā He tried to explain, hoping it didnāt come across the wrong way. He was ready to explain himself further, stopping only as the other kept talking. The words hitting hard, he froze slightly. Of course he had been overly stressed about the new tour experience, added in with the pressure his management was currently putting on him, but he wasnāt sure what that had to do with anything.Ā āIām nervous yeah,ā He nodded.Ā āBut I think Iām doing okay.ā
Frustration bubbled up in Benjiās throat, something thick and ugly and unwelcome. Heād spent years perfecting his stoic image, well before he ever stepped into the spotlight, handcrafted walls and barriers to keep himself detached and others uninterested. Moony being so persistent, even in the face of all his insults and cold apathy, was an unprecedented inconvenience, and it made him want to scream. "Hm.ā He was leaning forward now, taking a renewed interest in studying Moonyās face, scrutinizing each and every detail as if he intended to commit the other to memory in his entirety, like there was some secret hidden behind his eyes that he could easily detect -- it was the most eye contact heād bother to make since the party, and a small part of him wished it made Moony feel as uncomfortable to be watched so closely as it made him.Ā āI guess. Just a lot of pressure.ā He forced something false like pity into the words before reclining back into his seat, in an instant just as uninterested as a moment ago.Ā
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Moony hadnāt noticed Benjiās hand until the other pulled it back. He raised his eyebrow, glancing under the table without being obvious to watch the otherās hand. He wasnāt sure if he was just a fidgety person, or uncomfortable, but he was curious.Ā āIām sure Iām not the only person who would notice you were gone,ā He told, his voice soft now trying to comfort the other instead of just conversing.Ā āI agree,ā he nodded.Ā āIād much rather only have to do the performing part.ā Watching the otherās eyes, Moony licked his lips slightly.Ā āā¦are you okay?ā
Benji sighed, tilting his neck back until his head was perched on the head rest, eyes rolling up to study the ceiling, wishing very much that he were in the business of believing in some powerful being above that he could then ask for the patience to deal with this conversation right now. It was a loaded question -- was he okay? He wanted to answer Moony with a million questions of his own, ranging from the simplicity of why he even cared in the first place to a more aggressive rendition of why he couldnāt just mind his own business. He didnāt like being watched the way that the otherās eyes tended to follow him, feeling exposed in a way he hadnāt allowed in quite a while.Ā āOf course. Why wouldnāt I be?ā He answered instead, an easy lie that he had mastered over a decade ago, a grin sharp and intense on his lips, looking back down to meet Moonyās eyes once again.Ā āI would be more worried about myself if I were you. I mean, isnāt this your first tour?ā He scoffed, clearly intending to weaponize the words, a cruel first attempt at deflecting his own behavior and irritating the other into abandoning the conversation altogether.
At this point, Benji was the last person Lincoln actually wanted to talk to. Theyād spent a fair amount of time together before now, but this tour was the first time theyād been trapped in close quarters together for a prolonged period of time, and it was proving to be quite the dysfunctional dynamic. She rolled her eyes at his words. It was reasonable for him to think she was going to try to speak to him of course. She had a tendency in the past to bombard him with questions about his lyrics before she had to do press interviews. But she was annoyed enough about the past weekend to throw her usual desire to get his message just right out the window.Ā āWhatever,ā she replied with a small shake of her head, though she couldnāt help herself but stop walking when she got to where he was sitting.Ā āMaybe you shouldnāt assume that every person who sees you wants to speak to you.ā
Benji was an idiot when it came to social interaction, sure, but even heĀ could hear the layer of ice backing up Lincolnās words. The biting words didnāt fit right coming out of her mouth, he realized, and paired with the roll of her eyes, it was clear enough that she was irritated. At what, however, he couldnāt quite piece together, and he didnāt care to ask. She hadnāt been like this the last time he saw her, after all, when they talked about the events of the party. He paused, cocking his head to one side as he thought, the action so minute it was nearly unrecognizable.Ā āOkay.ā He drew the word out, long enough to fill the air between them with static. His voice was devoid of any emotion, save for perhaps blatant confusion. He nodded once, cutting off the sound, and dug his phone out of his pocket to briefly turn his attention to instead, a poor attempt at appearing distracted.Ā āIāll keep it in mind.ā
Moony had been trying his hardest to avoid Benji, as was instructed by his management, but it was turning out to be nearly impossible. Aside from the fact that they were literally on tour together and therefore going to all the same events and staying in the same place, he found himself unknowingly drawn to the other. He wanted to see him. He wanted to talk to him. Spotting him sitting alone at a table, Moony found himself walking over before he could convince himself not to.Ā āI think you might be needed away,ā He told with a small laugh, sitting down across from the other.
Benji wrestled his hand into stilling its movement as Moony sat across from him, shoving it into his lap instead in an effort to fully conceal his bundle of nervous energy. He had a facade of indifference to keep up, after all -- he didnāt want people setting expectations. āEh. Everybody will get on just fine without me for one whole day.ā He shrugged, a spitting image of nonchalance. He forced himself into staring through Moony easily, unseeing, as if the man in front of him was a pleasant stranger, rather than somebody he had drunkenly made out with just a few nights prior.Ā āItās just press. Boring.ā
Benji mindlessly tapped his fingers on the table before him, the rhythm stolen from one of his newer songs, yet warped into something impatient and rushed. He always hated these parts of tours ā in between shows, when he was forced into press or rehearsals or anything else that wasnāt nearly as exhilarating or worth his time as performing in front of so many people. He huffed out a long breath, abruptly irritated, at the sight of a familiar face approaching, somebody from the tour that clearly didnāt understand that he was busy buried deep in his own thoughts.Ā āIām just going to sleep until itās tomorrow.ā He mumbled as soon as the other was in hearing distance in lieu of a greeting, as though it wasnāt early in the afternoon and like he had any control over his schedule.Ā āAnd nobodyās allowed to wake me before then.ā
[ FROY GUTIERREZ // 20 // CIS MALE // HE/HIM // MUSE J ] can you believe BENJAMIN āBENJIā VALENCIANO is apart of the stellar world tour? the industry has dubbed him THE CHARLATAN and he has quite the reputation. sources say he is [ ENGAGING ] and [ ASSERTIVE ], but can also be [ VINDICTIVE ] and [ QUICK-TEMPERED ]. however, he is best described by the song [ SUPER RICH KIDS ] by [ FRANK OCEAN ]. i canāt to see what the stellar world tour has in store for him.
bio & pinterest
hi hi !! i'm sure you guys will recognize this as a reoccuring theme sooner rather than later, but i have absolutely no idea what i'm doing at any given moment, so i'm just gonna dive into a quick introduction to benji and hope for the best ! if you are interested in some slightly more organized thoughts i would recommend taking a look at his bio ( which i just fixed the link for because i'm dumb and it was broken this whole time haha, so let me know if there are any problems! ) & i hope you guys enjoy :)
okay so benjamin is born in greenwich, connnecticut, a town famous almost exclusively for housing some of the wealthiest families in america and not much else. his moms are both lawyers, cutthroat defense attorneys that pay for the family's summers in europe and vacation homes down south with somebody's elses blood money. he's an only child, and their scrutiny is merciless as it curates an envy for the anonymity of the shadows. their expectations pile too high in his throat, and he fears the day he chokes and lets them down, for it is inevietable. but he knows they'll do anything to get him across that finish line, walking across the stage at a prestigous law school he couldnāt care less about, which in an odd way is more terryifying than it is comforting.
music is not something that even crosses his mind until much later in life. it was never an option, still isn't, so he decides early that it is not worth the energy of entertaining, even as he finds peace only when the music is loud enough to drown out everything else. he is desperate to mold himself into somebody worth his mothers' undying affections, not just charades and party tricks. but they are patient with him nonetheless, smiles tight and forgiving through it all, and his stomach turns more often than not with the way pity flashes in a matching set of cool eyes, lightning-quick.
benji is created in just sixteen hours and thirty-seven minutes, an accident. it's a textbook definition of overnight fame, a shoddy youtube video gaining far more traction than it was ever meant to. he's nineteen and only in his second semester at college, and music was never the plan, but neither was law school, really. it's a headache, dizzying to imagine taking a life where he steps outside of his family's hold, and he is forced to make a real decision for the first time in his life. so he does.
in the same breath that he signs a contract with the label, they are prying his music from his fingers, the lyrics of missing a life that was never his to begin with are lifted away and delivered to somebody that looks more the part of soft and remoreseful. ( cue lincoln entering stage left, hello bb ) rather, heās fitted with quick and aggressive lines, still technically his words but molded in a way that donāt fit right in his mouth. they tell him it fits his image better, and doesnāt he want to be famous? the worst part is that it works, his fans eat it up, and demand more, more, more. anger thrums beneath his skin, obvious even as he shoves it down like always, but any pr agent could spot it from a mile away, and they tell him to use that instead. he is familiar with the use of disguises, years of sneaking around in his own home make excellent practice, but it leaves a bad taste in his mouth all the same. nobody has ever allowed him the vice of anger before, though. he knows a lifeline when he sees one, and he runs with it. benji realizes all too late that this is not the freedom he thought he would be granted, realizes he should have known better, that he let himself get passed over from his mothersā iron grasp to the labelās. he decides he prefers the way disappointing others lasts longer and feels better than chasing approval, and lets this time be different.
[ H E A D C A N O N S ]
( i know this is all dramatic backstory so far lmao, let me introduce you to who this dumb asshole really is )
more than anything else, benji is all bark with no bite. heāll curse you out for accidentally waking him up at 7:30 instead of 8:00, and hold the grudge for hours with icy stares and glorified pouting, like heās got a personal vendetta for making himself miserable. heās often a bit standoffish, distant in the apathetic way that you could cry on his shoulder for hours and still not hear a word out of him, look over and heāll offer a placating grin and a shrug. he tells the truth to a fault, blunt and unforgiving and too impatient to waste time playing games with lies and faux-affection. even with all his own bouts of irritability, the kid is an absolute idiot when it comes to reading people and understanding social cues and heās often left blind-sided when people are pissed at him without explicitly spelling it out. still, he doesnāt hold any actual distaste for anybody on the tour, floating between groups based on whoeverās personality suits him better that day, unless they are the ones to escalate the matter, in which case, good luck charlie. forgive-and-forget isnāt really in his vocabulary. once he makes a decision, itās near impossible to get him to change his mind.
when he wants to be, or if youāve entertained his interests in one way or another, he warms up and and indulges you with his internal monologue ( your chances are better if thereās a camera around, he doesnāt often bother wasting the energy otherwise, but still ) actually, it is not as hard as it sounds to gain his favor. crack a dumb joke about pr or offer him half a snickers bar and youāve already got a foot in the door, baby. he reveals his friendship in odd ways ā sarcastic comments and random compliments, nonchalant and declared like fact rather than opinion.
the real shortcut into his brain is alcohol. flash forward to like 11pm on any given day and the asshole is chugging fireball like itās the first sip of water heās had after years of dehydration, suddenly all bright grins and loud laughs, eager to collect drinking buddies like playing cards. itās a harsh juxtaposition, from brooding and fabricated to giggling and tipsy, and his tolerance isnāt nearly as high as he likes to pretend it is, so heās drunk off his ass and acting a fool more often than not. heāll trade secrets easily, charming and tongue loose in a way that it never is when heās sober. ( donāt even get me started with the amount of people he hooks up with, oh boy ) drunk benjiās a real headache for the crew, considering heās not of drinking age yet in america and heās got a rigid mask to maintain in order to keep up his charades and remain relevant. he refuses to be ashamed of it, though, and heās adamant to make things difficult for them, relishing instead in impulsive decisions he never got the chance to make for most of his life. long story short, in a pinch, buy him a handle and heāll probably like you.
when i say benji will try anything once, i mean it seriously, offer him literally anything and odds are that heāll say yes. itās kind of ridiculous. his self-destructive streak is always up for a good time, wink wink ( this doesnāt just mean drugs or anything, like dare him to eat an entire jar of nutella in under 10 minutes? whereās the spoon )
unfortunately heās a stereotypical rich kid through and through, and heās got the nicotine addiction to show for it. he wonāt even smoke cigarettes out of the principle of the thing ( unless heās blackout drunk, in which case, oh boy, watch your pockets ) but heās got at least two juuls on him at any given moment. nobody knows how he manages it, but heās got an extensive supply of the mango flavored pods even though theyāre banned, because theyāre the only ones heāll use. heās got lots of connections, and the fact that he uses them for this pretty much sums up his entire personality.
you would think that benji, with his reformed rich kid attitude and all his burning anger and sarcastic eye-rolling, would only drink expensive coffee, black and strong, right? no. heāll walk up to any barista, pissed just to be awake before noon and gaze as hard and cold as hell itself frozen over, and order himself a frozen caramel frappuccino with extra whipped cream and extra caramel drizzle on top, deadpan and monotone. to add insult to injury, heāll chase it by shotgunning a can of redbull, living off of unhealthy amounts of caffeine to have enough energy to deal with the others at all times. itās ridiculous.
heās grudgingly okay with the fact that his social media accounts have been sacrificed for his image, wiped clean and shaped into the public figure he is today. however, he guards his spotify account with his life, keeping it private and refusing to monitor this aspect of his life. his music taste is everything to him, and while heās willing to plaster songs heās never listened to all over his instagram story, his spotify is an extension of him, and he fights like a dog to keep it that way.
last but not least, benjiās fashion is atrocious. really, for the greater good nobody should let him dress himself, ever, and they usually donāt. heās got quite the bad reputation amongst the stylists, infamous for scowling at the high-fashion look they want to stuff him in, refusing to hear reason to the fact that he has to wear makeup to the red carpet. whenever he knows beyond a doubt that no cameras will be waved in front of his eyes, he practically lives in sweats like itās his religion, paired with genuinely whichever shirt he first lays eyes on. ( listen, he grew up filthy rich and just bought his first pair of sweatpants when he went to college, let him indulge bb ) some members will swear up and down to the fact that they saw him walk around in mysteriously stained sweatpants and a stolen back-up dancerās skin tight, hot pink mesh crop top for a full hour into rehearsal before he woke up enough to realize his mistake. heāll bite your head off for even bringing it up, but glance down and double-check what heās wearing just in case.
oh wait also heās dyslexic. words blur together in a way that makes writing lyrics a bitch, and just one song take him weeks to finish. it makes the sting of having them ripped away even worse. ( also i get to spell things wrong in the group chat and itās in character lmao )
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
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