e equals mc hammer

Yes. I did.

Bitch, I’m Mufasa.

And, y’know, you’re a ginger.

What do you mean no one will be able to see it? I can walk around shirtless if I want to. And besides, tattoos are supposed to be for personal gain and reasons - not to please the rest of the world. I like it. A lot. And it makes me think of you and mom.

Really, father.

I might get killed for this one.

Sex sells.

“Usually when a father comes to visit his son, he tells him first and comes to see him at his home. How did you know I was even here?” Probably one of his friends sending him out this way, none of them really knowing anything about Ashur’s relationship with his parents. Pouring a little water into his hand before brushing it back through ginger locks, messing up his own hair and shaking the loose water free, he pressed cold hand to the back of his neck and his shoulders shrugged, “I’ve been told it was a good song.”

Taking a water bottle from one of the stage assistants with a thankful smile and a little nod, taking a swig and feeling the coolness run through his veins - always forgetting how hot it got up there under even one little spotlight. Head raising at the sound of his name, the last person that the young man was thinking he would see was the one that met his gaze. “Dad...” spoken out on a slightly confused tone, swallowing down hard as he came to a stop in his walking. Glancing around, he watched as the next act went up onto the stage before looking back towards the much older man, “What are you doing here?”

Maybe you were needed up there               but we’re still unaware as why.

His chest felt heavy with emotions on the trail of the tune, knowing that he needed to leave that song until last so that he would actually be able to get through the entire set. It was only recently that Ashur even chose to put more of his own music into his lists; opting to go towards more of an original sound as opposed to the covers that he was usually performing. And maybe that had come from a few pieces of advice given about getting serious in the music business, or maybe it had come from him growing more comfortable in his talents - but either way, it was seeming to go over well. Silently, the young mans eyes took one more sweep of the room around him before they flicked down to unplugging his guitar, slipping it over his shoulder to be against his back and offering a small wave to the crowd as he moved off the stage.

I got pied.

                                                     and you don't hold me anymore

He says, “hit me with your best mugshot.”