Band Member Oneshots

A Bit Odd Innit?

Alex informs you that, while you were at a mediocre Christmas work party, he your daughter watched Stranger Things, much to your dread.

Either the organizers of the Christmas party bought cheap gift bags, or they overstuffed them.

Why else would your door prize, a sanitizing lamp and beer merchandise (which you planned on giving to Alex) be currently strewn about the backseat of your car, when moments before they were safely wrapped?

Grabbing the closest thing to storage, your daughter's Radio-Flyer wagon which somehow was placed right in front of the garage, you begin to fill up the toy.

Then abruptly start laughing.

What exactly were you doing on a November night at 10 PM, dressed to the nines, filling a toy trolley full of products you'd probably never use?

The latter was probably the best part of your day, though, considering the evening you'd just had and your tired and hungry state, not to mention a pounding headache.

Marching up the stairs from the garage to the living room with your consolation prize in tow, after having taken off your coat and boots, you notice that the house is weirdly quiet

Too quiet for the musician and six-year-old you left to their own devices a few hours ago.

"Lex, you awake?" You call out, figuring that at this late hour, the six-year-old is probably in bed.

"I'm in the living room" Your husband's raspy voice calls out, over the background noise of some television sports commentary.

Depositing the array of products onto the kitchen first, for him to explore tomorrow morning, you then join him, plopping down the sectional with a satisfied "finally."

Seated on the diagonally placed La-Z-Boy in black joggers and a "No Regrets" T-shirt, he glances at your smart business outfit, styled hair, and tired eyes before pondering,

"Have fun?"

"Except for the fact that I'm hungry, have a headache, want to gouge my eyes out after watching my boss dance, and got dressed up for nothing, oh yeah I had so much fun."

Noticing the sarcasm, he reiterates, "I gather you're happy to be home..."

"Oh definitely," You agree, then sink further into the couch, "What did you guys do?"

"Nothing much. " He shrugs, "We ordered pizza, put on our PJs and watched Stranger Things."

Taken aback by his admission, not for obvious reasons, you echo with furrowed eyebrows.

"You watched Stranger Things?"

"Yeah, but not a lot of it," He reassures, "Charlotte feel asleep halfway through one episode. It shouldn't mess with where we are in the series."

Upset at him, not for continuing without you, but more so for giving your daughter literal nightmare fuel, your posture becomes upright, and you bawl your fists in anger, the lot making you shout,

"You let a six-year-old watch a horror show? Before bed?"

"Come on (Y/N)" He teases," You don't think she knows that The Demogorgon isn't real? "

"If I was afraid of the show the first time, I only could imagine what it looks like to a kid!"

"Then again, haven't you always been afraid of weird things?" He points out, "Artwork, decorative plants and wall masks, shower heads and tiles, even certain" he quips, "Lizard decor? "

Embarrassed that he remembered the time you rushed out of the store selling the homeware while on vacation in Mexico, you gasp in both mortification and embarrassment.

"Alexander!"

In lieu of a response, goes the sound of him kicking the recliner shut, then subsequent feet stomping, and forced grunting, as he proceeds to walk, Frankenstein style, towards you.

Collapsing half on the furniture, half on you, he muses.

"A bit odd innit that you're afraid of metal geckos, no? They're not real, you know that, right? They're not going to crawl off the wall in the middle of the night and jump in your bed. It's not like you're not going to bec—"

Annoyed, exhausted, and having a headache now morphing into a migraine, essentially, having had enough of your day, week, and evening, you challenge back.

"And what about you? A bit odd innit that you're afraid of needles but not only have one, but multiple tattoos?"

Stunned by your outburst, he looks up at you with a shamefaced smile.

You did have a point.

Who could contradict him on that?