groovy

he played wounded at the accusation, but he knew just as well as she did that he would likely be spending more than one more hour perusing the selections; old dusty records were one of the few things in his life he paid due diligence to. and immediately after the go-ahead, he scurried over to the record player perched on the front desk, ready to rumble.

“hey, your secret is safe with me,” he replied, pulling know your chicken from it’s case as though it was a prized artifact. “and i can try, but now i gotta figure out what i can get you that’ll match up to this.” he mounted the record and pulled the needle, and soon miho hatori’s vocals were properly blasting through the store. “i already got a bunch of really wack stuff i found while thrifting, but i figure i should probably get you more than someone else’s old junk, so if you’ve got any hints for me…” his face lit up into a shiny grin. “that’d be stellar.”

she shook her head as she let out a soft tsk tsk tsk, placing a hand on her hip. “didn’t get me shit and now you want me to come up with it?” she deadpanned, looking at him with an annoyed expression before breaking into a grin. “i’m just kidding. i’ve actually been putting off getting one of these for myself ‘cause i’m scared it’s gonna suck total ass,” she explained, bopping her head to the beat as she scavenged her phone for the right pic. “okay, here, check it out,” she said, shoving her phone in his face. “tell me one of these chairs wouldn’t look dope as fuck at my place. you’d be a liar.”

“Oh, okay, hold on. Time out–” He reaches out to tug the phone down so that their eyes may meet, his brow arching high over a shit-eating smirk. Shocking, honestly, that she was still even meeting his eye at this point. When does the drink get tossed into his face and the day gets called? The day–… They call it a day. Confusing phrase. What was he doing? Right. ”You really think you’re gonna get all this–” He gestures to the whole of his body for a moment, before slowly coming up with a credit card that he waves before her face, just shy of her nose. “–for a full forty-eight hours and I’m not gonna get a single picture? You’ve gotta be outta your mind, gorgeous.”

her eyes cross to stare at the credit card, a pout forming on her features as she realizes she’s either gonna be living the good life under the pretext of pure embarrassment or moving on with her life normally, which sounded... lame. ugh.

“why, so you can blackmail me with it?” she scoffed. she was sure she could come up with something equally as dirty to throw back in his face, so it wasn’t a huge deal. “fine, whatever. you can take as many pictures as you want, as long as you’re the only one who ever sees them. i can’t have anyone knowing that i willingly went to a planetarium.”

quite a few texts had been sent to blue that isla didn’t fully remember sending, but she knew he’d texted back at some point. she hadn’t been this drunk in a while, very aware of how obnoxious she was being but completely unable to stop it. thankfully, the party was directly across from blue’s place, which was basically a godsend because she was not about to stay there-- or even worse, walk home. her socks shuffled lazily against the sidewalk, wacky boots in hand-- the heels were way too much for her to handle right now, but just walking in general seemed to be a difficult feat.

she was texting him again as she approached the front door, leaning up against it with a groan. multiple different misspelled versions of "hey bitch open your door” had been delivered in the span of under a minute, so all she could really do was hope that worked.

The show ends with a drop of his arm, quick and smooth with nothing left but the glint of amusement in his eyes. After all, you never want the teaser trailer to reveal too much of the movie. S’gotta keep the audience’s hopes up for the real deal. No matter the end quality of the real deal.

Oh, stop being so self-deprecating. It’s not as hot as you are.

At her words, he couldn’t help a twitch of his lips, a cough to cover up what would’ve been a bark of laughter had he not been the classiest of gentlemen, so dearly unwilling to laugh at a lady. Tie-dye, though. Tie-dye was the least of her troubles. When Peter comes to her place with all the Widespread merch he could overnight, she was gonna wish it was just tie-dye.

But, y’know. No need to tell her any of that shit now, right? At least not until he had a written contract with her signature. Or a recording. Or, y’know, rope. Whatever keeps her from getting out of this.

“Everyone’s high and gets the entire night off from their kids. There’s gonna be food,” he assures. Of course, the food would come from a concession stand full of already-stoned workers, but.. Y’know. Food would definitely be present.

“Any other demands, Lady Antoinette?”

she was shocked that this conversation was even still going, based on the fact that she figured he’d annoy her out of this by now-- or vice versa, but she’d never admit that. she never expected to be spending her night going to a crappy laser light show, especially in the company of a leech fragment member-- bleh! but sometimes free shit and the possibility of a good fuck were worth it. sometimes.

“i want there to be no evidence that i was at this event whatsoever,” she snorted, pulling her phone out of her pocket and immediately googling widespread panic. maybe she should figure out who they were if she was their new number one fan. “and maybe a thousand bucks every day until i die.” the second part was a joke-- but, it didn’t have to be. 

isla was already a couple (maybe three) shots deep, shoulders moving effortlessly to the beat as she walked through waves of sweaty people. the entire house seemed to be pulsing with the music, which was equally as comforting as it was exciting. her friends who were home for the holidays had already drifted towards their more important friends-- or even better, snorting coke off each other’s tits in the bathroom. ‘tis the season!

as she was ungracefully pouring herself another shot, she caught a glimpse of shiny black hair and an almost tacky outfit out of the corner of her eye, immediately sticking a hand up in the air. “lil’ mama!” she yelled, waving her arm around in hopes to get june’s attention. “get your cute ass over here!”

Naomi nodded eagerly as Isla spoke, ripping off another piece of her cotton candy candy and sticking it on her tongue. “You know, I feel like I could, too. I wonder where I find those sick ass moon boots?” She leaned forward at her friend’s confession, green eyes wide. “Really? Then, we’ll definitely have to watch it together. All I really remember from it is the dance scene and some dude throwing a steak at another person’s face. And, I totally get it. Canned Heat is a whole ass Bop.”

“yeah, i just decided we’re definitely gonna watch it. i love watching people get steaks thrown at their faces,” she grinned. “okay, though-- if you learn the dance then obviously we need to do a cover,” she continued, clapping her hands together in excitement. “oh my god, i’m already seeing it in my mind, and it’s iconic. bitch. i’m texting miles right now,” she said, stealing a smidgen of cotton candy as she pulled out her phone and began typing madly. “i feel like he already owns a vote for pedro shirt. it’s fucking destiny.”

He catches that appraising sweep with a smirk pulling across his lips, his hands moving to casually place at his hips, to casually show off his goods. Not to toot his own horn, but he has definitely maybe got, like, a solid half an hour in him before inevitably passing out on the floor.

“Mm, gotta give me a little bit more than just ‘hot’, y’know,” he murmurs, his hand casually sliding up his side, sliding up his shirt, as he stretches it up, up over his head in a yawn. “You look like the type to have a type.”

“uh, my type is people who are hot and good at sex. those are kinda the only two prereqs,” she shrugged, eyes darting down to examine his abs as a pleased smirk crossed her own lips. “okay, here’s the deal. i’ll go with you to your dumb thing. i’ll wear a stupid widespread panic shirt if it’s not tie-dye. and i get to pick out which hot dad to approach.” she’d most likely just go for the loneliest looking dude and con some free drinks out of him. “buuut it sounds like a lot of work-- i’ll probably get super hungry. will there also be food available?”

“A proposition, then,” he murmurs, folding the flyer up to tuck beneath his arm as he meets Isla’s eyes with an arch of his brow. “You come with me to Widespread wearing whatever merch I can find before the show, then you can spend the rest of the weekend with one of my credit cards in a honeymoon suite.”

“I’ll even throw in a whole ass me at your disposal for the added charge of going up to one of the thousands of dads at the show and insisting ‘Pleas’ is the greatest song of all time.”

crossing her arms over her chest, she looked up at him, a wry smile spreading across her features as she thought about it. there weren’t many other phrases that brought as much joy to her mind as ‘you can spend the rest of the weekend with one of my credit cards in a honeymoon suite’, but his so-called proposition had her fighting not to roll her eyes. “m’kay. under two conditions, though– i still have to look good in all your stupid merch. if you make me look not hot the deal’s off.” she paused, glancing him up and down. “and it has to be a hot dad, too, just in case he wants to join.”

Naomi let out a light laugh as Isla chanted, mimicking the shoot as best as she could from her spot, one fist bumping to an imaginary beat. “Okay, so no cupid shuffle, got it, boo,” she said with a nod, her eyes widening at her friend’s suggestion. “You brilliant queen. I should learn that.”She paused for a moment, stretching one of her legs on the counter, holding out her cotton candy for Isla to snag a piece. “That could definitely work…. You, me, and our dear sweet Miles should watch Napoleon Dynamite together soon. You know I’ve only seen it once?”

isla’s eyes lit up at the endearing ‘brilliant queen’ coming from the other, bashfully flipping her hair over her shoulder. “oh my god, stop. you have to learn it while you’re playing the violin, though. i feel like you could def rock the outfit.” she paused at the other’s suggestion, tilting her head to the side. “don’t freak out, but you know i’ve never seen it at all?” she admitted. “i had a jamiroquai phase and found that one scene on youtube. that’s literally the only reason i know about it.”

“hey, no shade to jamie,” he held up his free hand in defense, carefully setting the album down like a criminal caught red-handed with a prized jewel, “but best night of my life is a certified garbage album.” 

he was promptly distracted from this rampant jamie foxx distaste by the sweet allure of cheap and hidden vinyls. his heart instantly kick-started in his chest as she emerged, clutching the treasures close to her chest — the excitement of long withheld albums could not be denied. he gently took them into his hands like precious cargo, eyes blowing wide the second he registered the true gold he had cradled in his grip. “no way…… know your chicken?!” his eyes popped up to meet hers, a childish grin blooming on his lips. “you’ve really been holding onto these since summertime?” he shook his head playfully. “all the wasted days that we could’ve been blasting them, man.” 

“i’m so sorry. but also you’re welcome,” she flipped her hair over her shoulder, crossing her arms over her chest. “go ahead and put one on right now if you want, i know you’re bound to spend another hour in here anyway,” she said with feigned annoyance, but she was truly pretty blissed to have company. being at echo alone was not as scary as it was just plain boring, so miles’s reaction to receiving a couple of early gifts was enough to make lazing around there for her entire shift completely worth it. “don’t tell anyone i can be nice sometimes. think you can handle waiting ‘till christmas for the other ones?”

”You know how queen Lizzo does that flute and shoot thing, right?” Naomi asks, perched on the counter of the prize booth at the arcade. “What if I were to do something like that, but with, like, my violin and a different dance? Because, I’m pretty sure I can’t hit the shoot while playing.” She sighs, grabbing the open bag of cotton candy from between her legs and pulling off a bit. “Maybe I could do the cupid shuffle,” Naomi says in a sudden stroke of genius, popping the pink candy in her mouth. “But, I’d have to learn how to do that. So maybe something else… You got any ideas for me, beautiful?”

before naomi could even finish the word ‘beautiful’, isla was chanting “hit the shoot, hit the shoot” as her fists banged down on the counter. simply imagining naomi attempting to play her violin and hit the shoot at the same time was the funniest thing she’d ever not seen. “if you do the cupid shuffle i’m quitting,” she said, throwing out a shrug. “bad memories are associated with that song. don’t ask.” she twirled her straw around in her drink, creating an obnoxious squeak as it slid up against the plastic lid. “maybe you should learn the napoleon dynamite dance.”

“Look, the Southworth Planetarium is shutting down for good this weekend and it’d be the last time we’d ever get to go,” Peter reasons, sliding the flier forward. Emblazoned across the top was the date for the final laser light show, featuring the music of Widespread Panic. A note that Peter jabs at repeatedly with his finger, his eyes alighting ever so slightly with his excitement.

“I’ll pay for your ticket and everything. I’ll even book you your own room at, like.. I don’t know, the Hilton or something. Whatever. Don’t make me pull the birthday card.”

isla was absolutely not interested in wasting her entire afternoon at some random planetarium like a total dweeb, and was even less interested in the widespread panic laser light show. but, it was essentially a free trip to portland, and she loved free stuff. “would we also be able to do something that’s actually fun?” she raised a brow. “no offense, pete, but the free hotel room was the best sounding part of your whole suggestion.”

miles wasn’t thorough with most things — he had a massive pile of ancient laundry that he’d been switching between his desk chair and bed for actual months — but music was a realm that deserved his utmost attention. he’d been combing through albums for ages, tongue subconsciously poking between his lips, as he tried to unearth something he hadn’t seen before. (seeing as echo was on his daily schedule at this point, this was an entirely futile quest.)

his head popped up from the album he’d been closely studying — a sealed vintage prince album, which he’d been en route to setting back down after glancing at the price — and offered a giant goofy grin as she boogied over. “very clever,” he commented, putting the album back in place, “and it also explains why i’m not finding anything that isn’t super pricey or…” he deftly lifted up a jamie foxx album, face scrunching in displeasure, “this.” 

“why you dissing jamie foxx?” she tilted her head with a grin. “i have really good memories associated with blame it featuring t-pain. i can play it right now if you want,” she asked as she crept into the back room, not really serious-- she was jamming too hard to lady miss kier’s crooning. “i guess i can show you a couple of these a little bit early,” she called through the door as her fingers picked through a fairly sizable stack of personal inventory. 

“okay.” she opened the back door, clutching the records to her chest before stepping over towards him. “if i show you these right now you still have to pay for them, so i picked the cheapest ones,” she said, handing over a used copy of the score by the fugees and a single of know your chicken by cibo matto. “these actually came in, like, this summer, so i honestly deserve an award for holding onto them for this long.”

isla was leaning on the counter perched over a magazine, twirling a lock of hair around her finger with one hand and taking a cosmo quiz with the other. it was a slow weekday afternoon at echo, and the volume of the music playing was a bit higher than usual as she was pretty much alone-- save for miles, of course. her friend and bandmate had been sulking around the R&B section for nearly forty minutes. with a huff, she flipped the magazine closed after the quiz didn’t give her the result she wanted, deciding to actually get off her ass because she could not handle this boredom. “find anything good yet?” she asked, beginning to dance to the sound of deee-lite ringing through the shop as she wandered over to him. “if you’re having trouble it’s probably because i hid everything you’ll like so i have something to give you for christmas.”

“Well in that case, you should really give being nice a try.” Dottie shot Isla the coldest glare she could possibly muster up, although she could see her own reflection in her peripheral vision and quite frankly, her glare needed a little practice. “Yeah, yeah. Break a leg.” she added as she stormed off towards the bathroom door. “or both,” Despite Dorothy’s harsh words, her lower lip quivered. It took a lot for her not to cry right then and there, and her glossy eyes were proof. 

ouch! that kinda stung, but isla would honestly rather die than to let dottie know that-- cue sarcastic comment. “wow. thanks for saving me the trouble of trying to figure out who killed me in my sleep, freak,” she all but cackled, reaching to open the door so she could escape, but not before throwing out, “now i can just skip the ‘unfinished business’ part and go straight to hell. you can feed my body to your rat. my treat.”

“I’m not––” oh, duh, sarcasm. Her blonde locks bounced as she shook her head and returned the brush to her purse. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to just be nice.” Dottie lowered her head, genuinely disheartened by how Isla made fun of her fantasies. “Besides, Jimmy Fallon is bound to be Gone Girls’ biggest fan as soon as we win Undrgrnd.” she added in a grumble. Before that very moment, the competition was nothing more than an opportunity to have some fun with her bandmates, but now she knew she had to take home the prize and she’d do everything in her power to ensure that just to wipe the smug look off of Isla’s face. 

"maybe it would, and that’s why i’m such a bitch,” she shrugged with a delighted grin that she couldn’t possibly hide. one of her main hobbies was pushing peoples’ buttons, and with dottie it was almost too easy; there was a lot isla could say about how a band actually had to be good in order to win, but she’d probably reserve that for when the competition got a little more aggressive. she didn’t really need to waste her time with that sort of jargon anyway when she already figured retrograde was bound to win-- plus, she didn’t want to badmouth all of gone girls, who were cool in her book. “good luck,” she grumbled back with a playful roll of her eyes. despite the sarcastic tone of it all, she wasn’t being entirely facetious, which was a rarity-- but dottie wouldn’t know that.