Roommates (Maxley)

Chapter 7

What is he doing here? Father would never approve.

He can't seem to get himself to care, eyes darting around the room as he searches for Max. He had told him to meet him there but now he wasn't answering his phone at all. A little voice in his head kept whispering to him to leave, that Max had changed his mind, but he stayed. Why? Honestly, he's not sure. His feet seemed to have rooted him to the ground of the dark venue as bright colorful lights dance above him. People are everywhere, packed like sardines, shoulder to shoulder. He ends up being a wallflower as he waits, nervously sipping a shot of what tastes like soda but makes his head spin from the violent bubbles that pop as he swallows it down.

|Brad
If you stand me up I'll slit your throat

|Max
Be patient a little longer for me

Bradley Uppercrust the Third does not wait for anyone. Okay, anyone except Max Goof apparently, how humiliating. He anxiously taps his foot while watching the stage, taking another drink from the nearest bartender before settling to the side again. The stage lights flicker and silhouettes scramble across it, setting down equipment as the curtains run away to the corners. Then, all the lights turn off at once and excited whispers fill the crowd. He's close enough to see the band walk on, and his eyes widen when he sees that familiar curly mullet and those dirty sneakers he always complains about leaving muck on the floor. Their eyes Meet and his heart leaps to his throat, face warm from his soft gaze.

"Tonight's song was requested by our guest guitarist, and apparently it goes out to a special someone~" The lead singer, a girl with bright doe eyes smiles at Max as his cheeks tint to match her red hair. "So whoever you are, this one's for you!"

"1, 2, 3, JAM!"

The moment the drummer finishes the countdown the band starts, instruments all in sync as the stereos blast a Pop-Rock tune. He's only heard music like this in those shops at the mall and at Frat parties, that's why it sounds vaguely familiar. He doesn't listen to the lyrics long, his focus darting to Max as he shreds his guitar. God, he looks so cool, dressed like the boys in those rockstar posters. Ripped black jeans and a tank without sleeves that shows off his arms, don't even get him started on the dark eyeshadow on his glossy eyelids that match the tint on his bottom lip. God those lips, it's only when they start to move he realizes Max is singing. His voice is raspy, deep, sending shivers down his spine and making him feel weak in the knees. All he can do is watch him, admire the blues and reds that make his brown skin glow, the pale patches constellations on his body that Brad wants to memorize and name.

"It's wrong, it just can't be,

But things aren't bad between you and me,

And you,

You belong right next to me,

In the shadows we'll still meet,

Run away boy, Runaway boy~,

Return to my arms tonight,

Swear I'll hold you tight,

So don't run away,

Runaway boy"

The song ends, and Brad is left standing in a crowd of cheers with his heartbeat echoing in his ears. That song...no, it was just a song, nothing more. The next one starts and he claps along with the crowd, trying to drive the anxiety out of his mind by humming along to the tunes he manages to pick up. He bumps into a girl with a beret and quickly apologizes, freezing when she looks him up and down and smiles. Right, he likes girls. Girly girls like this one, he should try to get her number. Wait, greet her first! He's a gentleman, where are his manners?