To Be Named At A Later Date

Non-Linear

"Okay," Connie tapped her clipboard as she perched in the window seat, her head in Anna's lap and her legs dangling over Jasmin's. "We have our girl boss songs, we have our full team hits–,"

The group grinned at each other. Their team hit was currently one of their all time favorites.

"We've also got 'dumb dumb' for that category and 'Me!' which is personally my favorite."

"You're so shmaltzy, Ni." Steven tipped the bottle of Hennessy back before passing it back to Hazel and Adam, both messing with his hair and putting it into ridiculous braids and twists. "Don't fuck up my hair. It's the fans' weakness."

Adam took a few gulps and chuckled hoarsely as it burned his throat. "I thought- I thought it was the Diamond eyes?"

"Nah, it's that bubble butt on god," Hazel corrected. "Genuinely dude, what the fuck do you need all that ass for?"

Steven turned to stare back at him like he was a complete fucking idiot before snatching the bottle back and taking an impressive amount into him. Jacob took it away with a small rolling of his eyes.

After a moment of listening to the choking giggles around him Steven replied, "Well obviously for everyone to fuck it. Now shut up and let my wife talk or you'll never hit it again."

"Play nice you two, or I'll personally see to it that neither of you gets to hit anything. I know we release shorter albums than most  artists, but I still feel like we need another song." Connie sighed and reached up to brush Anna's hair behind her ear and pinch Jasmin. "What do you two think? We're the brains of the operation." They shrugged in response and she reached behind Jasmin to throw a pillow at Alex. "Hey fuckface, what do you think?"

"I think that if you want me to be your promo manager and not the reason you get murdered in a dark alleyway that you should stop throwing shit at me."

They all erupted into faked yawning and being unfazed while Connie shouted, "BOR-ING! You always threaten to murder people. Why don't you threaten to assault me or something?"

"Because while threatening to murder you is just one of my many pleasant personality traits, if I even entertained THAT idea as a joke Steven would kill me before I even could finish the sentence in my brain."

"That's the 4-1-1, yo," Steven confirmed.

Alex handed Connie the nearly empty bottle and she frowned at him.

"Grab me the Pink Whitney, you guys are neanderthals for drinking this shit."

"Ugh, for real girl. Hennessy is disgusting," Jasmin agreed, downing the rest. She shuttered and gagged slightly. "It's like drinking depressed alcohol."

"It is depressed alcohol," Steven mumbled as he went through the cooler. "Pink Whitney is such a pussy alcohol breed."

Jasmin scoffed. "A pussy can take a beating."

"From whom?" He lifted his head of curly hair so he was beaming at them. It almost would've been cute, a smile reminiscent of baby Steven, if there wasn't a sense of infuriating cockiness behind it.

Everyone knew he was a powerhouse, and from the random blips they'd get from Connie (and experiences at Nova) they knew his trauma manifested as incredible, wild sex. Sex most rockstars only dream of.

Not that anyone had it bad (or even mediocre), on the contrary, the girls would gush to each other on the beach while they boys drank beer and dozed off until Jacob or Adam (usually Adam) got sunburnt so badly they woke up in excruciating pain. Throughout the last year and a half their self confidence had grown and the sense of self in general was firmer when they were together.

Steven himself hadn't ever lost most of his surface innocence and puppy like excitement over almost everything, but he'd switched from a Golden Retriever boyfriend to more of a German Shepherd when together like this.

Hazel finally couldn't take the loaded silence and blurted, "It tastes like disinfectant."

Adam started laughing so hard he could barely get anything out but managed, "W-Well Hazel, maybe-e that's just what you need– since you're constantly trying to fuck Connie's husband," TiBNAALD cackled and the ones within reach shamed him.

"Fuck you, man."

"When, where and how hard?"

"An hour, our balcony, full throttle." They fist bumped as Steven handed them a hard seltzer.

"Back on track. We need another song."

They sat and thought about that for a moment before Steven sprouted a silly grin. "Boys song! I want to do another boys song!" The alcohol was making him gleeful and loud, but they all adored his excitement.

"Do you guys ever wonder if we should actually put effort into which songs we put in which albums?" Anna was already slurring from her own chug. "Like, shouldn't– don't most artists kinda have a theme or somethin'?"

They surveyed each other before answering confidently and all at the same time "Nah" and "That's lame" and Connie crowing again, "B to the O-R-I-N-G!"

"You guys are fucking weird and people like that. Now get your happy drunk asses outside for a photo op. Greg will be here with a crew in... five minutes." Alex stood easily, the least drunk out of them while they all stared at him in horror.

"Why didn't you say anything before we started drinking?!" Steven cried.

Their friend grinned wickedly at the wasted bunch and shrugged. "Because we're non-linear like that."