Rooms On Fire

Part 1

I don't remember if this used to have chapter titles or something, sorry!

—

Being a star is basically only the art of making everyone else believe you are one. That's the sole criterion, which sounds simple enough. But the difficulty rises exponentially depending on how many people you need to make believe just that.

It's easiest to go for their pride. An innate fear of missing out and an easily bruised ego when they think they've missed something so different, so interesting that it's suddenly relevant and they're late to the party.

It makes themselves sound more significant if they can claim that of course, they've known this girl for months already. They've seen her before she'd popped up everywhere in her outlandish clothes and with that striking voice. They've definitely stood there while she was playing in a tiny nightclub in a sparkly bra way before this, nudged the person next to them with their gold bracelet laden wrist and told them that girl was going to make it big.

So much for the theory.

The problem is reaching the right people from the perimeters of these tiny clubs. It's not like they randomly show up uninvited. There usually has to be something, something that's already caught someone's attention.

It's not a particularly interesting crowd in that regard tonight. Mostly college students, a few of her old band mates, some others more on the hunt for a partner than for new music. Stefani searches for a familiar face, but her eyes only keep meeting that one guy's who isn't as subtle as he thinks he is.

He's still throwing glances in her direction even long after she's left the stage and he looks like he doesn't quite belong here. His clothes are too neat and carefully coordinated, the watch clearly too expensive for anyone sane to dare wear in here. Either he's entirely oblivious to that fact or he's trying to impress someone and doing a horrific job at it. It's mere curiosity, she tells herself, when she strides over to find out which of the two options it is.

—

The first hour had been a little bit intimidating. Bradley's been here before, but not on his own. It hadn't sounded like a bad idea when he was getting ready at home, but now he's about one beer away from awkwardly leaning against the wall next to the bar and being content watching the crowd from the outside.

And that's very much not the point. He's spent his life doing that, standing outside and never quite finding the niche he fits into. It's not for a lack of trying, there are so many open doors to choose from and he gets bored of most of them after a while.

This is one he hasn't tried before and it's not exactly an open door, like that last business he'd gotten into. His parents would possibly disown him or at least send him away for a while to get his shit together again if they knew he's spending his night at a dingy nightclub instead of getting some rest to prepare for - whatever is on the schedule tomorrow, he hasn't checked in a while and has been floating by, living day to day.

It's dark enough in this corner of the club that he assumes that at least nobody is going to recognize him. But not quite dark enough for the girl he's been following across the room with occasional glances to not have noticed. When she finally approaches him, he thinks she might be coming over to tell him to stop staring.

"Are you lost?"

He lifts his arm to scratch his neck in a nervous habit. "Not really."

She doesn't tell him to stop doing anything at all, but slides up on the bar stool next to him. "Do you want some company anyway?"