spotlight :: malum

: forty two :

The process of going out of a tour bus, into a venue, through secret hallways backstage, into different rooms, sit for ten minutes, standing for five, waiting for Calum to finish soundcheck, and then see him for five minutes was a pain in the ass for Michael. He's happy that boy is succeeding more than he ever will in his lifetime but it's odd seeing him in work mode.

Right now they were in his dressing room, a roomy area with his literal travelling closet that's opened to give him his clothes on hangers and belts and shoes in drawers. Michael got introduced to Tiffany, his designated stylist who greeted the pale boy with a warm bear hug and a loud Hi! right in his ear but he didn't mind.

Calum was switching clothes from his morning outfit to his stage clothes. His jeans on as he kept the shirt off for now and worked with putting his belt on, warming up his voice as he did it. Going through the solfege in different keys, do re mi et cetera, et cetera. Almost on loop at this point.

"Gonna lose your voice, save it for the show." The blonde boy was sitting in the stylist chair but wasn't getting his hair done, spinning in the stool as he quizzically raised his eyebrows at the brunette who started humming instead, one of his songs that the paler of the two can't pin point exactly but it sounded nice.

"He's on vocal rest at least once a month, trust me, we all tell him to shut the hell up." Tiffany's lips beamed a bright smile as she started to organize her station a bit, even spraying some more hairspray into Calum's curls as he only scrunched his nose and made an irritated face towards her. He hates product in his hair but lets her do whatever since he's well aware that during his intermission she always yells at him for getting his hair frizzy.

"I know my limits, Tiff." He finally picked a shirt from his closet, a white tee shirt displaying the Drop Dead logo that he threw on and then double-knotted his shoelaces. "Missed singing so much."

"I wasn't stopping you." The blonde softly quipped in slight confusion. He had no idea he was holding the famous boy back from singing, he surely wasn't against it. "You sang to me lots of times." He added on in a timid whisper, memories of the car rides where he'd serenade him late at night made him tilt his head to the side in a perplexed bummed out look. He felt bad. Calum never told him he missed singing, he would've let him belt out whatever chorus his heart desired.

"In front of a crowd it's vastly different, more energy." The explanation was understandable and the two boys shared a look of agreement only for the door to the dressing room to swing open and his damned manager to point at the rockstar and then down the hall to tell him to go.

Since everyone was waiting on him he put in his ear pieces and checked he had his microphone before rolling his eyes to follow the many stage crew members down the hall. His brown eyes sending an apologetic look at the pale blonde boy lost in the doorway, mouthing a soft sorry that got a hand waving him off as if it was no big deal.

Now that Michael was left to fend for himself he checked his phone, getting a total of seventeen cheesy and cute pictures from Ashton showing him and his highly just as energetic boyfriend around the city. They were adorable. He can't help but aw at the touristy photos and send a ton of heart emojis to the curly haired friend of his.

Maybe he's really going to miss him during this whole road trip around half the world, six months with no stop back home is going to be the death of him. He hasn't even been away from him for more than twenty four hours and Michael misses Ashton majorly. His family, on the other hand, he'll gladly take a break from.

There was a moment where even though he was backstage, the walls ricocheted the sound of piercing screams of pure adrenaline. A loud booming soundtrack muffled through the walls and soon enough he could hear Calum singing.