𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 / ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ *

hello, lovelies! i’m honey and i’m literally too excited to be here. everyone’s muses are so cool and here’s jason who is so . . . not that at all. hit the heart for a plot ( and maybe a friend? 🥺🤲

❛ ♫ · » qian kun,  cis male,  he/him «  wow …  jason yan  just  told  me  that  their  band,  friction,  got  accepted  into  that  battle  of  the  bands  thing.  wait,  you  don't  know  them?  i  could've  sworn  i  saw  you  two  together  at  sound institute.  well,  nevermind.  they're  twenty-five,  and  they're  the  vocalist ,  producer  &  guitarist  of  the  band.  when  they're  not  playing  music,  you  can  usually  find  them  doing  odd  jobs ,   practicing  calligraphy  or  looking  after  his  grandfather.  i  think  you'd  like  them—  they're  so  supportive,  but  …  also  kind  of  empty-headed,  i  suppose.  you'll  know  it's  jae  if  you  ever  meet  them,  because  they're  the  walking  embodiment  of  scratches  on  old  vinyl  records, vibrant  clothing  with  big  brand  names  &  smiles  too  big  for  his  face.

stats. wanted connections. pinboard. 

location : somewhere on higher hithe street time : ~ 1:00 pm status : open

    “well, shit,” they muttered, looking down at the shattered remains of their phone before gingerly picking it up in an attempt to not cut themself on the shards of glass. embeth tried to power it back on, but it seemed that it was not going to happen. it was toast, that much was clear. it was their own fault, really. they’d been skating along the street, not paying enough attention and nearly tripped over some debris in the road. they supposed they were lucky that their phone was the only casualty from the near-accident. “so,” they mused aloud, “think i could get away with saying this was normal wear and tear?” the question was more of a joke at their own misfortune than anything else, but they were really regretting not getting that extra insurance now. and not backing it up anytime since. “at least things can only go up from here.” it was almost too optimistic, but embeth just had a good feeling that good things were coming their way.

             jason couldn’t believe his eyes and knew that, had his worst fears come true, he’d never have forgiven himself for standing idly by and watching embeth get into an accident. thankfully, they looked to be okay, but he still wanted to be sure. “oh my god, are you alright?” he asks, rushing over to them. he doesn’t pay much attention to their phone, but when he finally does notice it, his face falls. “jesus. busted, isn’t it?”

mina sat at keith’s pub, hands on her heads as she winced in pain. she should have expected this. after an uncountable number of glasses of tequila, it’s only natural that a person wakes up the next day cursing at the sun and praying to god for a big mac. yet even with this excruciating pain and night full of regrets, she still found herself at keith’s pub the very next night, eager to make a whole new day full of memories to look back on. she figured she’d start the night off with some social interaction, her favorite. “ hair of the dog that bit you, right ?? cheers. “

               it had been a rough morning. a great night, sure, but a rough morning thereafter. jason cursed the day he’d started drinking . . . and then got back to the pub and started drinking once more. who could blame him? the best remedy for a hangover was more alcohol, after all. ( that was a thing, right? ) 

open  :  the loudhouse, 4am!

willow is no stranger to the loudhouse at closing, or the mishaps that come with getting the last of drunk clubgoers out of the establishment. to be fair, she’s one of them, still warm and buzzed from the last shot she’d taken. it’s not exactly the best state to be riding back on her bike, so she sits herself down by the pavement, waiting to sober up a little more before she risks it.

she’s not particularly surprised when she sees someone stumbling in her direction, drunk off their ass; she’s kind of horrified when her helmet gets turned into a barf bag. and yeah, she was planning on drunk driving so her whole grasp on road safety isn’t the best, but damn. maybe that’s a sign to uber home. “ fuck, ” she drawls, looking at the damage. “ y’can keep that. ”

              if jason didn’t know any better, he’d say that he was a little too lost in the sauce. however, he did know better but still -- wow, he couldn’t even finish the sentence. the boy had wanted to cut loose a little with his band mate, but cutting loose crossed over into getting absolutely wasted about four beers in. he’s wobbling down the halls, laughing at a joke he’d heard an hour ago. the sight of willow is a welcome one. “willow! i thought i lost you,” he slurs, reaching out both of his arms to try and embrace her. alas, it’s easier said than done and the motion in and of itself causes him to quite nearly lose his footing. thankfully, jason is able to keep upright, but the sudden change in force causes his stomach to do flips. he feels horrible about it now ( which will inevitably multiply tenfold in the morning ), but he loses his lunch and dinner in the first thing he can get his hands on . . . which is willow’s helmet.

mateo: hey is ur band doing the whole media thing 🤢

mateo: isnt the competition already enough coverage

jason: unfortunately we are