I'm a walking travesty

That you must.

I still think we’ll do some great stuff. For me though the band comes first.

“Oh, are you in a band or something? That sounds cool!”

“Yeah-- a pretty cool band. I’m bias too it though. So don’t take my word for it.”

“People who want or don’t want to go to Disneyland, Mr. Forgetful,” she laughed.

“My bad, well it’s not for everyone I guess. but those people are pretty stupid,” Jazz chuckled.

            “you sly dog,” he grins, raising an eyebrow as jazz mentions guys and girls. “so, does your band attract a lot of weird alternative kids? do your fans, like, try to sell pieces of your hair and stuff?”

It’s always going to be there.

Maybe-- hopefully. We’ll have to see where the band goes.

            kurt bites his tongue and doesn’t tell the stranger how much of that information he didn’t need to know, nor how much of it he cared about. “your band name is salamander?” he was now fighting the side of him that wanted to say “are you kidding?" he had heard a lot of silly band names, but that one took the cake. he almost giggled but stopped himself. "hm. i never really liked emo music. but, um, does the name salamander mean something important to you? or is it just, like, the word?”

“Trust me; These apartments are far from fancy, but whatever the hell they’re doing sounds like bowling… and any other ridiculously loud activity out there. I’ve made a few noise complaints, but I think at this point they keep it up in spite of me. —Oh, good! You can help carry the bodies too.”

“Traveling is the best part of my life, I can understand why you miss it. Will you go again?”

“Most likely-- we’ll write some new music and on a break we’ll go around here some, next summer maybe do the small month tour again.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Wait what we talking about again?”

I’m sure your friends and family appreciate you being around at least.

I guess. I still miss the road.

            “you play with your ex? isn’t that kind of awkward?“ kurt asks, raising an eyebrow before a small chuckle escapes his lips. "i’m not much into local music, but maybe i’ve heard of you guys. what’re you called? what’s your sound?”

“All of the above, including what has to be bowling, fucking, and building furniture… simultaneously. On top of that, they look to be like, twelve-years-old — A married couple at twelve with nothing better to do. I swear, I’m going to kill them.”

            “probably.“ it was either alcohol or one of his many other habits, but kurt wasn’t one to introduce a stranger to his arsenal of addictions. the mention of the other’s bands peaks his interest, though. "oh, you’re in a band? that’s cool. are you guys famous yet or is it just a local thing?" 

“I’m beyond ready to get back to work, but if my neighbors continue to keep me awake at night with this shit, someone will get socked.”

            “maybe that is what happened. i can’t say i remember.“ he stares at the other, eyebrow raised. "jazz. nice to meet you.” he can’t help but notice the notebook that the other has. “what’s in that notebook?”

            “it kinda sucks that i have to introduce myself with this on my face, but i guess it is what it is, right?“ his words highlight the black and blue mark under his eye, a mark bestowed upon his pale skin via the consumption of substance and a subsequent fall. "i’m kurt. who are you?”