girls being dudes

“You should be preparing,” a voice says, and Sophie swallows a sigh. Another thing she’s come to know about Orion Quinn? He can be a major pain in the ass.

“I am. This is how I get in the zone.”

“No vocal warmups?”

“Already did that before you arrived,” she explains. Contrary to what he seems to believe, Sophie takes her job seriously.

“Ah. My apologies.”

“Really? And how will you make it up to me?” Grinning, she plows forward before he can reply. “I’m partial to flowers, though I will never say no to jewelry.”

Orion gives her a bland look. In return, Sophie gives him her most obnoxious grin, noticing the creases on the corners of his mouth. He’s trying not to smile. Success.

They hold eyes for a full minute, neither wanting to break first and lose this admittedly childish stare-off. She’s wondering how long they can stay like that, simply staring at each other, when Rowan pokes his head in.

“Soph, it’s time.”

She laughs. “Saved by the metaphorical bell. For the record, I would’ve won the staring contest.”

“Nonsense,” he replies, a small but unmistakable smile on his face. This is why, pain in the ass notwithstanding, Sophie thinks she rather likes Orion. Perhaps, in time, they can even become friends.

“Go. Break a leg.”

“Thanks.” She takes a deep breath. In and out. In and out. The ritual soothes her.  “Time to make the music!”

He doesn’t laugh at her pitiful attempt at a pun. Instead, he gestures to her temple. “Your braid is coming undone.”

Before she knows what’s happening, he’s stepping closer and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “There. It won’t get in your way.”

She swallows, looking into his eyes. This close, she can see that the face she knew, abstractly, was cute, is actually… kind of gorgeous? Her skin heats up at the contact, the warmth of Orion’s fingers making a shiver run down her spine.

He steps back without a word, and tilts his head towards the spot where the band is already gathered.

Right.

She’s supposed to perform.

But for the first time in her career, when she walks to the mic, she’s not thinking about her performance. Instead, there are two words playing on a loop in her mind.

Many nights during filming went this way. The band in someone's room, talking, watching movies, brainstorming ideas and theories. Rowan was always there with Willow, Devyn and Iris also joined most nights, unless they had a date planned. It became easier to get August to join them too, the usually distant drummer warming up to the entire band more and more. And warming up to Willow. Willow tried to not overthink all the moments they shared with August, but it was becoming harder. Especially on nights like this.

Rowan came to Willow's room with the whole band and a small bag of edibles he apparently got off of Triple who got it from another guy. Devyn and Iris shared one gummy, the rest of them chewing though theirs already. Time went by slowly, all of them slowly succumbing to the effects of the edibles. Willow would lie if they said they didn't love this feeling. Their mind raced so much usually, that this state of slowing down was welcome. The outside of the hotel room melted away from a short time.

Few hours later they were all in different positions. Rowan was snoring sprawled on Willow's bed, while Willow and August found themselves huddled up on the sofa, close to each other, Willow's head resting on August's shoulder. They were so close that Willow would be probably be stressing about it, if they were not high. Instead their arms brushing, and the smell of August's soap just made Willow happy. They liked being this close to their drummer. Why didn't they do that more often? Band members should be allowed to cuddle on the sofa without it being weird.

August was throwing one of Willow's juggling balls up with one hand. They had tried to explain to their drummer the basics of the art of juggling but apparently their motor skills slowed down as much as their head. Willow focused on August's hand. God, they had nice hands. Long fingers. A golden ring on one of them. Nails painted a pretty green color. Willow really wanted to feel their hands against their own.

"Can I see your hand?" Willow's voice was raspy as they turned up their head to look at their drummer. August raised their nice thick eyebrows in a question but complied with the request. Willow pushed their hands together so they could compare them. August's hands were warm and soft to the touch but Willow could feel a few calluses on their fingers. They adjusted their hands to see that August's fingers were about an inch longer. When Willow looked up at their face they looked smug about it. They weren't pulling back their hand so Willow used it as an opportunity to… touch. Explore.

Willow moved their fingers on the inside of August palm, feeling the soft parts, stopping at the calluses. "From the drum sticks," August's voice was warm and smooth. Willow wished they would talk more, they wanted to hear this voice so close to their ear more often.

"I like your hands," that was easy. Willow could just tell August how it is. "I like looking at your hands when you play," this time August moved their hand, intertwining their fingers with Willow's. It felt so intimate. August spoke this time. "I like watching you on stage too." Willow snorted. "I feel like you have a better vantage point." "I have the best seat in the house, truthfully." August's voice was deep, the expression on their face suggestive.

Willow was contemplating a flirty response, when the door to the room opened, Iris and Devyn walking in with snacks in their arms. Willow and August pulled their hands apart just a little bit too slowly. Iris squinted her eyes at their close position.