𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗

"no, no, no not bad. really good, actually." taylor was buzzing in the best way - it likely wasn't true, but he felt invisible here. not in a way that made him feel bad, but that he was part of something bigger. when most of his days were spent spending time with a team that he barely knew and wasn't accepted on, a party where people weren't glancing at him sideways was a welcome solace. fingers tug through his messy hair as he tries to smooth it out - and fails, suddenly so acutely aware of the appearance that he hadn't been paying any mind to. taylor's eyes grow bright at the sharpness in his grin and returns it with his own smirk. "hey, either way, its working for me. i'm bound to find your insta either way." his phone it out and in his hands, typing out the name with little difficulty, despite the slight sway to the room. "taylor abbott. really nice to meet you, bud." he kinda like that this guy doesn't seem to know who he is, so he doesn't bring any attention to it. "you'll have to hit me up later to find out." taylor hadn't seen any of his streams (or any streams for that matter), but he was more looking for an excuse to force a second interaction. "the suspense of it all."

niko barked out a laugh at that, shaking his head as he watched taylor immediately pull out his phone. there was something ridiculously ENDEARING about the lack of game in it. most people tried to play it cool when they were flirting; this guy had basically announced his intentions and then handed over the evidence. the slight sway in his stance didn't exactly help his case either. not that niko was complaining. "jesus, you're efficient." his grin widened as he took another sip from his cup. "i don't even get a tragic backstory first? not even a FAKE one?" his gaze caught on the way taylor kept pushing his hair back only for it to fall right back where it'd been. cute. annoyingly cute. "nice to meet you, taylor abbott." he rolled the name around for a second, like he was committing it to memory. "and now you're makin' me curious, which is rude, by the way. you can't hit me with the whole 'you'll have to find out later' thing and then expect me not to wonder." tilting his head, he nudged taylor lightly with his shoulder. "so what i'm hearin' is you've already decided there's gonna be a LATER." the smugness was back in full force, but there was a warmth underneath it now. "bold strategy. lucky for you, i respect confidence." his eyes shifted briefly toward the crowded living room before returning to him. "though if you're gonna keep flirting with me, you should probably grab some water first. i'd hate to find out tomorrow that i only got your number because you were one vodka soda away from legally becoming a houseplant."

frankie had never been very good at pretending she didn’t belong in rooms like this, even when half the people packed into the low-lit afterparty were trying too hard to PROVE they did. the show had ended an hour ago, but the venue still hummed with leftover noise; laughter spilling over the bar, amps being hauled out through a side door, someone from the band yelling their name from across the room before getting dragged into another conversation. she only lifted her vodka cran in vague acknowledgment, red straw caught between two fingers, her mouth curving around a private little smile as she drifted near the edge of the crowd. it was easier to watch than join in right away. easier to let their eyes move over faces they half-recognized, over glittered eyelids and leather jackets and sweaty post-show hair, while they hummed under their breath to whatever song the dj had thrown on next. frankie looked relaxed in that dangerous, expensive way she had learned to wear like perfume, but there was a SHARPNESS beneath it too; a creature who knew exactly when someone was looking, and whether she wanted to let them get away with it. their gaze caught on someone across the room then, lingering a beat too long to be accidental, and the corner of their mouth lifted around the straw before they finally looked away, like they had been the one to decide the moment was over.

[REBOOT] (x)

cw: flashing lights, smoking, fighting, blood.

it started off like any other day. he got to jude’s exhausted from work and immediately started bitching. “how the fuck do you tell me not to rotate your tires,” peter demanded, throwing himself onto the couch, “and then ask me to move the back tires to the front and the front tires to the back?” jude was already laughing. “no, seriously. explain it to me.” “can't.” “exactly.” peter pointed at them. “and then this guy gets pissed when i charge him for the thing he asked me to do.” “tragic.” “thank you.” he kept going, because he was on a roll now. jude kept laughing, which only encouraged him. at some point, jude's arm ended up around his shoulders. then peter leaned into him. then somehow he was halfway sprawled across the couch and –  well. the next thing he knew, they were kissing. and god. peter really fucking liked him. everything else faded into the background. work. the shitty customer. the rest of the day. all of it. he barely registered the sound of the front door opening. it wasn't until he heard a laugh that his brain finally caught up. his eyes drifted toward the doorway. lottie. well. shit. peter jerked back so fast he nearly threw himself off the couch. heat flooded his face as he looked at jude, then at lottie, then back at jude. for a second, nobody said anything – it was just lottie grinning. then he cleared his throat. “uh.” another beat. “so we're datin'.” he gestured vaguely between himself and jude. “surprise.”

lottie stood in the doorway with her coat halfway off, her expression bright with the kind of smug delight that meant NOBODY was surviving this. “oh, wow,” she said, deadpan. “i’m shocked. devastated. completely blindsided by the thing i’ve been watching happen in real time for, what, months?” jude groaned her name in warning, which only made her smile sharpen. “no, please. continue. i only let myself in because i thought you’d be doing boring little producer stuff, not finally confirming what everyone with functioning eyes already knew.” she shrugged out of her coat and tossed it over the nearest chair, moving farther inside like she had every right to be there — which, in her mind, she ABSOLUTELY did. her gaze shifted over to peter, still too pleased with herself. “also, incredible announcement. really elegant. ‘so we’re datin’. surprise.’ very moving. i almost cried.” underneath all the sarcasm, though, there was fondness; not surprise, never that, because lottie had seen the way jude looked at peter when he thought NOBODY noticed. her sibling had spent so long acting like wanting people was inconvenient. seeing them caught with it all over their face felt dangerous in the sweetest way. for half a second, her expression gentled. then, she ruined it on purpose. “for the record, i support this.” her grin came back in full. “mostly because keeping quiet was getting exhausting, and also because watching you two pretend you WEREN’T obsessed with each other was starting to affect my mental health.”

noah notices all of the things that rory pretends don't matter. he never ment to sidestep any rules, but rory keeps sliding in between his own boundaries. like they somehow just don't apply. all of the things he's done to protect himself just seem useless, because all he wants is to pull rory closer. the noise of the bar fades in the background, and the only thing he can see is the softness in rory's eyes. his knee nudges noah's, and heat climbs up his neck again. god, he wants so much more than either of them get to have. every time he's around rory, he gets this stupid hammering in his chest like his heart is begging to burst free from his ribcage. but it doesn't scare him. and isn't that the difference ?? sure, this is casual, this is easy, but couldn't it be more than that?? "well, i've already reckoned with the fact that you've got severe cte to keep puttin' up with me." laughter runs easy all over again. "combine that with your love for beatin' a dead horse, and we ended up here." somedays, it feels like the only thing noah considers at all is how much time he can spend making rory laugh. he follows in suit, taking a sip of his own drink. "enough tequilas and i can go fully insufferable." a grin, "but you already knew that."

rory barked out a laugh at that, immediately shaking his head as he dragged a hand down his face. “see, this is exactly what i’m talkin’ about. i say one nice thing to you and suddenly I’M gettin’ diagnosed with severe cte at a bar.” but there was no real bite to it. if anything, he looked too amused by the whole thing. too fond. it was getting harder and harder to pretend noah’s attention didn’t affect him. harder to ignore how quickly his eyes found him in a room, or how naturally he leaned toward him whenever they were together. somewhere along the way, being around noah had stopped feeling like effort and started feeling like RELIEF. his grin lingered as he watched him take another sip of tequila. “love beatin’ a dead horse?” he repeated with a snort. “buddy, you play defense. i’m pretty sure your entire job description is doin’ the same thing over and over until somebody gives up.” he nudged their knees together again beneath the bar, unable to help himself. “and yeah, i already knew that. enough tequilas and you go from regular insufferable to advanced insufferable.” another laugh slipped out before his expression softened slightly. “doesn’t seem to stop me from wantin’ to hang out with you, though. which honestly says way worse things about me than it does about you.” he lifted his beer in a lazy toast. “guess we’re both STUCK with the consequences now.”

i've seen interviews. oh, it's a good thing he has another fucking joint stashed in his back pocket. because if he wants to talk shop, cam's gonna need to smoke enough NOT to feel like he's fucking bragging. because firstly, he's not. he's like so incredibly aware that this is the only thing that he's ever been really great at. he takes the joint back, and takes another drag. the smoke billows out around him, stupid mocktail abandoned on some ledge. smoke some weed, feel normal, focus again, whatever. "so you know all about me, and i don't even get your name." he chuckles, eyes casting over to chase once more. "i'm starting to think you might just have a little crush on me or something. makes it way harder to be a nuisance." he laughs, "consider a burnout stereotype, multiply it by five, and that's about how much fucking weed i keep on me." a grin crawls across his face, "'and i'm stupid generous. 'd say that's a pretty big benefit." a beat, "now you gonna tell me your name, pretty boy ??"

that got a GENUINE laugh out of chase, head tipping back for a second before he scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "okay, that's fair. in my defense, i wasn't exactly trying to hide anything." his eyes dropped to the joint, then back to cam, amusement still lingering in the corners of them. the crush comment earned a scoff, though it wasn't particularly convincing. "might?" he echoed. "jesus, your ego's worse than mine." but he was grinning when he said it. the pretty boy nearly did him in, too. chase shook his head, reaching over to steal the joint for another hit. "chase," he finally admitted, offering it back. "chase fontaine. professional hockey player, occasional stalker of skateboard interviews, apparently." his shoulder bumped against cam's once more. "and for the record, being generous with weed is a strong selling point. calling me pretty boy might be an even stronger one."

There's not much privacy to begin with, so he just backs out of the garage. His ex picks up on the third ring and the call goes worse than expected, pure exasperation by the end of it. He mopes back to the guy. "Keep it. Take however long you need, you don't gotta stay late or nothin'." And he really does, try to not air out his shit but, "I was tryna link up with my ex, so I'm tellin' her, like, hey my car's dead, and then she's like, I told you to take it in when we were together. Sayin' this wouldn't be happenin' if I had listened to her then." Which, saying it aloud, is true, but then she just kept on chewing him out. "We've been good too. Before this. Wild."

a low hum left him as he listened, wrench turning lazily between his fingers while trent talked. he didn't interrupt or offer one of those fake damn, that's crazy responses people threw out when they weren't really listening. instead, he let a few seconds pass after the story's over, eyes dropping back to the engine. "well." his mouth twitched slightly. "first mistake was tellin' somebody who warned you about the problem in the first place." the amusement in his voice took some of the sting out of it. "ain't a person alive who can resist an i told you so in that situation." another turn of the wrench. metal clinked softly somewhere beneath the hood. "second mistake was thinkin' gettin' chewed out means y'all ain't good." he shrugged one shoulder. "sounds t'me like she was annoyed 'cause she was right, not 'cause your truck broke down." growing up around small towns, horses, and families who expressed concern by giving each other grief had taught him THAT much. "if she didn't care at all, she'd probably just say 'that sucks' and hang up." that earned a quiet chuckle from him before he glanced over. "though for what it's worth, i probably would've kept the part about tryin' to meet up with your ex to myself. folks tend to hear my truck died a lot different than they hear my truck died on the way to see you. makes it sound like they're part of the problem." he wiped his hands on a rag and nodded toward the waiting area. "go grab a coffee or somethin'. i'll see what kinda miracle i can work."

“okay, no, that's not what i said,” he laughed despite himself, only slightly distracted and anxious that his eyes lingered on him. “you don't have to connect with the camera. that's my job. you just have to look like you're into it.” he shrugged. “you know how many people i've photographed that give me absolutely nothing to work with?” his head tilted. “i'm getting the impression you're gonna try harder than that.” the smile that tugged at his mouth lingered when chase pushed off the wall. “c'mere.” he waved him over and pushed open the doors to the studio balcony. the space was almost unfairly photogenic. plants crowded the edges, the city stretched out beyond the railing, and the late-afternoon sun spilled across everything in soft gold. it looked less like a balcony and more like a set. “sit right there.” arch pointed toward a chair beside the table, already squinting as he pieced together the frame in his head. then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and held it out to chase. “yeah, you're gonna need this.” he paused. “you don't actually have to smoke it.” another beat. “but it's hot, and you can't really argue with me on that one.” arch pointed at the cigarettes like it was objective fact. “it just IS.”

“oh, i’m ABSOLUTELY gonna try harder than that,” chase shot back with a grin, following him out onto the balcony. “you say that like i’ve never had a camera pointed at me before.” the second he stepped into the sunlight, though, he found himself glancing around. the place looked ridiculous, but in a good way. all warm light and city skyline and plants that probably cost MORE than some of his teammates’ cars. archer fit here, he realized. there was something about the way he looked at the space, already building the shot in his head, that made it obvious this wasn't just a job to him. chase dropped into the chair without complaint, one arm slung over the backrest as he watched him work. then archer held out the cigarettes, and chase barked out a laugh. “jesus christ.” he took the pack anyway, turning it over in his hands. “see, THIS is why you're the artist and i'm just some idiot who gets punched for a living.” his smile pulled a little wider as he looked up at him. “you didn't even hesitate. just decided cigarettes are hot and that's the law.” he tapped one lightly against the pack, eyes narrowing with amusement. “y'know, for a guy who gets embarrassed every thirty seconds, you're weirdly BOSSY when you've got a camera in your hand.” the observation slipped out before he could stop it, but he found he didn't mind. there was something kind of fun about seeing archer forget to be nervous for a minute. “alright, boss. what's next?”