noa sweet

Yeah, Noa had started it. But that's the thing: he's allowed. He'd done it for the good of the band. Logan was being a bitch just to be a bitch, it seems, and that doesn't sit right with him. Ignoring his call (sg.)? His gift (sg.)? After a month apart? No fuckin' way. Not his girl.

When he pulls up to her house he's not surprised to see stupid jackass Dan Pinkerton's stupid jackass car parked in front of his girlfriend's house. Right. This is the game she wants to play. The only thing keeping him from slamming his car door as he gets out is the fact that he'd put so much work into fixing the last dent. Noa carries that same control to Logan's front door; not out of respect, but because once he loses it, he's going to struggle to get himself back, and he'd like to put as much focus into aiming it towards stupid jackass Dan Pinkerton instead of his cheating girlfriend.

Patience is rewarded with the sight of his half-naked girlfriend. Noa doesn't even look at her. He pushes right past, opening the door like its his house instead of hers. In the living room, sitting on the couch half-hard and dazed, is stupid jackass Dan Pinkerton.

Granted, he couldn't help it that he could see over the heads of well, almost everyone. "It's a burden. Seriously, a real life curse," he pointed out, finally letting his gaze wash over Noa. "You good or am I just the lucky winner to get picked on tonight?" Not that he wasn't used to Noa's harsh words.

Noa ruffles Milo's hair - has to reach up to do so. He's got a big head alright, but the rest of him is big too. Proportionate. Most would say handsome. Is Noa still going to tease him about it? Yeah.

At Milo's concern, Noa retracts his touch. With a single question, the reality of what awaits him backstage comes barrelling back; the lighter tilt his face had taken is gone again, jaw flexing as he tries not to clench too hard.

"I'm fine," he lies. "Tired as fuck. Do a shot with me, help me fix that." Noa motions to the bartender without waiting for an answer, signals her with a clear motion and then pushes one over when they appear a few seconds later. "You can't say no. I'm the talent tonight."

Noa's going to leave when Fallon surprises him again by offering words. Not only words, kind ones. Yeah, she sounds like she's being held at gunpoint, but she still said it.

"I know," he says, a little hesitant - like she might twist it somehow, or take it back. It was a good show despite whatever the fuck the rest of the band has up their asses. They faltered a few times, but only in ways diehards would recognize, and they at least have the excuse of being home after a long trip. Noa eyes her, his face neutral. "Are you feeling okay? You don't usually compliment me on purpose."

it takes herculean effort to not react to the revelation that he had been watching her.

"really? i wouldn't be caught dead standing still at a concert. that's so embarrassing, like being a literal wallflower. not really my style," she tells him, hues shifting from his and following the trail of smoke released from his mouth until it fades into the night. "between you and me, the guys at the bar weren't really keeping my interest anyway. the twirling was as necessary as it was fun, y'know, keeping me entertained."

Everyone needs an ego boost sometimes.

"Hard for boys at the bar to hold your interest when there's a real man on stage." Obviously he's not talking about Julien. Julien isn't a man - he's a jealous little shit. One who's probably crying to Birdie at this moment; that is, if he's separated himself from his computer long enough to come to a party at all. Whatever. Noa's not thinking about that; he's thinking about the beautiful girl giving him attention.

Noa lets his smirk show, mild and genuine amusement in his expression. "Long enough to want to find you after the show. If you forgive me for not sending you a personal invite to the tour, I could keep you entertained now. No twirling involved."

Well-trained fingers flick ash off his cigarette before he takes another hit. He considers her a moment more before reaching out with his free hand and brushing something non-existent off her bare shoulder. "Unless you'd rather stay here with the boys and the wallflowers."

Okay, so, he isn’t entirely pissed off. Whew. Just be cool, Dario. Just be cool. But his nerves quickly began to diminish into confusion when Noa said no to the bathrooms. Dario then had to make a mental note to tackle those bathrooms before next week, because he had definitely not touched them in the month Noa was gone, and he would just redo them again when told to do so.

But if Noa didn’t want him to do scrub the bathroom floor, and didn’t seem to need him on the sales floor, Dario couldn’t imagine what else he could offer the man. He felt his nerves begin to bubble up again, so he begins to play with the hem of his shirt to steady them. And Noa just kept messing with his peaches like they were the best damn peaches in the world. Maybe they were, not like Dario ever dared to steal one. “Okaay,” he replied, softly and cautiously.

He watched in awe as his manager swallows the peach in one bite, wondering how that was even possible. Before he could even stop himself he blurts, “How can you swallow something that big so easily?” He paused, another thought sinking in. “You’re not going to ask me to jar your peaches, are you? I mean, I’ll do it. I just…I don’t think I would be very good at it.”

"You think I jar my own peaches?" More than that, Dario was offering to do it for him. What an insane little freak. Him and that pushover from Portal would make a great couple if Noa wasn't 100% sure that Dario spent a good portion of his shifts checking him out and thinking about him swallowing big things. "No, Dario, I don't want you to jar my fucking peaches. I wanted you to bring something to my girl for me."

Much like his cigarette habit, Noa doesn't usually bother to finish his coffee, or drink much of it at all. It's a glorified hand warmer at this point, one he holds close for some sort of tethering. Everything feels up in the air lately, and for Noa, who often feels perfectly in control, that's maybe the worst place for things to be. Victor's aborted small talk helps the world feel at least a little more normal.

"Yep." A quick, tight answer. Noa wonders if the rest of the band will even make it to the show; maybe Birdie would cop out, ditch them, disappear into nothing the same way they'd appeared in Colossal in the first place. "Why? You coming? Gonna' bring a little girlfriend?"

Noa grins, teasing and sharp.

TED LASSO

Don't get him wrong - it's still annoying as fuck and gets under his skin more often than not - but right now, with all of his closest friends acting like absolute fucking strangers, Noa could not be more relieved to be faced against Fallon's class-A weird-girl bullshit.

Noa doesn't move. He stays planted, staring Fallon down with the same amount of paltry ire. His stupid wings flutter with the stinging Ohio breeze. "Maybe I missed bugging you. Needed to stop and get my fix."

Dario hadn’t been feeling too much of himself lately. Today was a bit of a down day for the guy that always has bad puns and fake smiles to give. He had taken a moment to collect himself in the break room, trying to give himself a silent pep talk so he could get into his usual mood, though he admittedly had gotten a little too comfortable. But the moment he hears Noa's voice, Dario is so startled, he ends up accidentally blurting out a "Fuck!" before falling off the couch and landing on the ground with a loud thud.

Dario's sputtering out excuses -sort of sounds like he's choking on his own tongue - and when Noa turns around, unopened jar in hand, the kid looks scared for his life. Normally, this would be funny. Dario's basically a jester at this point, mildly entertaining at best and deeply annoying at worst, though ultimately harmless. Today, though, as Noa braces himself for what seems to be a nightmarish tidal wave of a weekend, he just feels bad for the dude.

Noa stares, popping the top off the jar as he decides how to handle it.

"Nah," he says eventually. "No bathrooms. Those are next week." There aren't any clean forks available when Noa tugs open the drawer with a rattle, so he reaches for a butter knife instead, which he stabs into one of the floating peach slices. "There is something you can do for me, though."

Noa carefully takes the whole peach slice down in one bite and stares blandly at Dario while he chews.

"Give me a little more on the hi-hats?" Birdie called out into the darkness beyond the floodlights and in the general direction of the sound booth as they tapped a drumstick idly against the cymbals.

(Messing with Andie's sound, which they indulged in more often than not, probably wasn't the wisest decision. But they hadn't noticed yet, so Birdie didn't expect them to start now.)

They could vaguely make out the shape of a thumb being raised in the black, and they struck the hi-hat at Andie-intensity, listening carefully to the echo throughout the venue. A nod to themself. "Perfect, thanks guys!"

They stood and turned to adjust the seat back to its usual height when they spotted the outline of a figure lingering in the wings. They didn't have to look twice to know who it was.

"You know it's bad luck to be in here before we go on," they said, without looking up from their task. No one was allowed on stage between the official end of soundcheck and set but Birdie, lest it tip the scales they'd just leveled out perfectly.

(They'd probably made a few exceptions for Noa now and then, but right now, he was the last person they wanted to see.)

That being said, something is wrong with the group. Not him, them. Stemming from Birdie, he suspects, who has been acting like a caged animal since their stop in Pennsylvania. It's throwing everything off. It's making Noa antsy, and pissy.

Not nervous. Not anxious. Just unable to focus on what matters because he's stuck focusing on making sure Birdie doesn't make like their name and fly the coop, leaving the rest of the band in flux.

Leaving Noa in flux.

"Don't need luck," Noa argues. He doesn't have to lift his voice, has never needed to with them. Most of the time, he doesn't need to speak at all; Birdie can reach into his brain, sift out the important bits, know exactly what he's thinking. Maybe not anymore.

"I'm just checking on you, Bird. Can't seem to find you anywhere else."

"whatever. we killed it and everyone in this shithole knows it." they said that last part a little too loud, and caught a mean mug from the other side of the bar. "something to say? yeah, fucking thought so," they jeered when their opponent merely rolled their eyes and went back to their beer.

A hype man in a different font, of sorts.

The prick at the other end of the bar stands down easily, apparently familiar with Andie's reputation, and Noa hides the flash of amusement with the weak bite of another swig of beer. He does give a soft kick to the base of their barstool - Noa needs to eat before he has to pry a wild-fisted Andie off of some idiot, so they'll have to cool it for now.

"I've been sayin' the same thing," he drawls. Noa drums his fingers on his glass. "At least I don't have to worry about you dropping out and hoofing it."

watching the party offers little distraction from the cold, and yet she can't bring herself to go back inside just yet, slightly worn from the events of the night already. though unlikely she would admit to it, the concert took a lot out of her. previously buzzing with the adrenaline of the show, and what little alcohol she'd consumed at the bar, she finds herself wondering if anything worthwhile can happen tonight.

his voice is like a beacon in the chilly night, signaling her to look out.

"what makes you say that?" she asks, trying to sound disinterested. undoubtedly failing. noa is no stranger to frankie, even if he's not especially familiar with her. more importantly, he's easy on the eyes, and she finds herself looking away from his gaze, dangerously close to fawning and batting her eyelashes. "it was a good show," she admits with a slow nod. "you guys always put on a good show, but i think you know that."

God knows he could use the distraction.

"I do," he says. It isn't cocky - it's the truth. 2nd Heaven knows how to perform, even when the band members are holding a month's worth of tension between themselves. For all the audience knows, the five of them are riding an all time high. Noa flips the cigarettes closed and pockets them again, fingers digging for his zippo next. "But thanks."

With a practiced ease, Noa lights up, takes a puff, and turns his head to exhale out of courtesy. When he looks back to Frankie, he isn't coy about the way he looks her up and down. "Saw you dancing out there," he says eventually, answering her initial question that he didn't bother with before. "Should've had you at every show this month. Some of the towns out there are filled with nothin' but fuckin' losers. Might've actually had some fun on stage if I'd seen you out there twirling."