#event 02.

HOMECOMING FESTIVAL CALENDAR !

"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.)

Bolting down the next window in his path, he looked around for the others that were with him. “Just a few more down here, then we can head back down and check on the others,” he said as he finished, wiping his brow as he turned fully. “Has anyone checked on the generator yet?”

what he needs: an escape.

it is almost strange to consider, given how he had spent his life rooted in the council; irony for how he was the first to leave in first lives, and now first to stay in ones too late.

(perhaps the last one, he does not say)

it is not too far off from expectations, given how he was known to be a crumbling thing. pieces of him are to be littered in corners where smoke is a little bit easier to breathe, and this is his -

the library is in a disarray. the echoes of the loud sobs from emperors usually so stone-faced still ring loud, and the air is too heavy on chests; feel it pushing down on sternums, makes him swallow thickly as he looks between shelves for familiar figures nestled in between the pages.

find him in corners of his own instead, and this - fire is easy to swallow now, but what seems to be burning his throat is something of a different kind, and kian can’t quite name the way it seems to catch onto veins, tracing through systems.

“ziyu, are - what’s happening?” to you, to me? he takes a careful step closer, hesitating. “are you hurt - why - “

THE HOMECOMING TOUR !!

𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙸:  i know you were hanging onto some jealousy over 2nd heaven playing at your favorite venue in new york last week— 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙿:  i am not jealous. 𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙸: so does this mean you won't be attending the homecoming fastival this weekend? 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙿:  oh, i'll be there. i might think noa sweet is a big fat poser, but i'll never turn down a celebration. so listeners, if you're free, make sure you head out to eden park this weekend and enjoy all of the festivities before the final hometown concert at fight club. 𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙸:  if anyone needs us, shep and i will be splitting a rockstar killer and hoping it doesn't nuke us before the concert starts. we'll see you this weekend, colossal. now here's 2nd heaven with THE DISTANCE!

"God, it's so good to be back."

Birdie look down at their food reverently. They would swear up and down, with absolute sincerity, that every single bite of their chili dog was healing something deep down inside of them.

At the end of the day, Birdie was a homebody. Being on the road was nice (until it really, really wasn't), but nothing beat this. The predictable rhythms of Colossal, the usual spots. A chili dog and an oreo milkshake.

"I know that we still have a show, but I can't wait to just...fuck off and do nothing for a little while."

"Boo," Birdie whispered — well, it was probably closer to a half-shout, given the deafening noise around them.

They waited for Devon to turn around before enveloping her in a bear hug, with a long "hiiiiiii!" careful not to let their overfilled solo cup spill any of its contents spill down her back. They probably held on for a beat too long and squeezed a little too tight, but whatever bright red concoction was in their cup was turning their usual inclination toward a cuddle up a few notches.

"I feel like I've barely seen you!" they yelled over the noise as they finally let go of Devon.

Outside of making sure that the store hadn't gone up in flames in their absence, they'd gone back to their day job only in the loosest sense. Management was really just a few sporadic check-ins while they dedicated the rest of their time to the band's final push.

"Milo says I owe you a kiss for the store still being in one piece."

Birdie had already exhausted every possible avenue, stopped every crew member, only to be met with the same answer: "Ask Logan."

They didn't want to ask Logan. They didn't want to see Logan. They'd much prefer if they didn't have to be in the same building at all.

Something sour rose up in the back of their throat, and they forced themself to stop and take a few deep, calming breaths. They rolled their shoulders as if it would physically shake the antipathy creeping up the back of their neck.

When they finally managed to find her, they stopped again and schooled their features into neutrality.

"Hey," they urged, with a light squeeze to Logan's elbow. It was familiar, friendly in a way the two of them weren't. But Birdie just needed to get through this show without issue. Needed it desperately.

"We're missing a wedge and no one seems to know where it is. Any ideas?"