pasta_warlord
Legally Dead
Avery drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, staring through the rain-coated windshield at the standstill traffic before him. About an hour ago, he’d gotten a call from the lead vocalist of his band who “regrettably had to go his own way with the smoking hot record deal he’d just been offered”... which was fine. The guy was a pompous prick without a spec of respect for the work all of them did. If anything, this was something to rejoice over. Or it would be if being short a lead singer hadn’t entirely derailed their chances of successfully competing in the Battle of the Bands they’d signed up for.
And to think the day had started out so promising.
But it was fine. He and the lads (or what remained of them) would put their heads together at the bar and figure something out. After all, it was karaoke night. If they could survive all of the drunken renditions of whatever obnoxiously chirpy pop tune was popular nowadays, they might be able to find some real talent. Or at least something close to it. And then aaaall Avery would have to do is turn on the charm, maybe buy them a drink or two, and wham.
One brand new lead vocalist. It was as easy as that.
A small smirk turned up the corner of his mouth as he gripped the steering wheel. And since he was still liberated (temporarily, he reminded himself firmly) from his boyfriend, then if things... progressed from there, who was he to say no? That would just be rude. A disservice to his future bandmate, really.
The vehicles in front of him began their slow, but determined, crawl forward, and he followed suit, turning on his windshield wipers at last.
Oh yes. Tonight would be productive, indeed.
And to think the day had started out so promising.
But it was fine. He and the lads (or what remained of them) would put their heads together at the bar and figure something out. After all, it was karaoke night. If they could survive all of the drunken renditions of whatever obnoxiously chirpy pop tune was popular nowadays, they might be able to find some real talent. Or at least something close to it. And then aaaall Avery would have to do is turn on the charm, maybe buy them a drink or two, and wham.
One brand new lead vocalist. It was as easy as that.
A small smirk turned up the corner of his mouth as he gripped the steering wheel. And since he was still liberated (temporarily, he reminded himself firmly) from his boyfriend, then if things... progressed from there, who was he to say no? That would just be rude. A disservice to his future bandmate, really.
The vehicles in front of him began their slow, but determined, crawl forward, and he followed suit, turning on his windshield wipers at last.
Oh yes. Tonight would be productive, indeed.