A Bad Sign?

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Warning for alcohol abuse.

Oh, before I forget. The lyrics in this chapter were written by me. I'm not even sure I can even call them rhymes since I know there're special techniques to writing those, which I have no clue about, and i'm pretty sure Mike's not even capable of writing such bad lyrics, but just for the sake of fiction, let's pretend he did write them. XD

With that aside, hope you guys enjoy! :D

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Once back in the living room, Mike immediately spots Brad in the balcony. The door is wide open and as soon as he walks closer, Brad looks at him, smiles then goes back to chatting with the fan. Back in the kitchen, Mike poured more vodka in his cup so he drowns that too, tosses the empty cup away and approaches a group of fans he hasn't talked to yet. They ask him about his rapping, praise his skills and inevitably, he ends up performing for them.

Grabbing a mic, he plugs it in and is soon rapping away in the middle of Brad's living-room with a crowd of people nodding their heads in rhythm with a few of his earlier, never performed rhymes; some not even Brad has heard. Some he never intended to be heard by anyone.

As he raps, Mike catches Brad staring at him; a tinge of admiration in his eyes, so he amps his performance up a couple of notches till it feels like he's almost roaring the verses out. He's rapping some lyrics about growing up, but out of the blue, they morph into something he remembers writing in his teens, words he recalls with a tint of embarrassment, but he can't hold them back.

"—always thirsty for more, you're out of control.

Don't even notice how your selfish actions make me mourn.

And I'm suffering in the darkness with this pain alone.

Till you see that we were meant to be since we were born."

Mike sings the rhymes looking right at Brad, the inspiration for those lyrics himself. They're not even good. They're awful actually, one of the two reasons no one's heard them before, but damn he's feeling them now.

Brad is looking right at him. There's a thoughtful— maybe even troubled look on his face? Mike doesn't get to muse on it much, for the fans soon prompt Chester to sing as well. Brad joins them with his guitar and they end up playing the acoustic version of a couple of their songs.

When they finish performing, Mike goes straight to the alcohol. He's not in the mood for being sober and he intends to remedy that with the rest of the vodka he bought for Brad.

And everything becomes delightfully blurry from then on. Mike's happy and uncaring, and he definitely doesn't care when Brad comes to him in all of his slutty self and tries to stop him from drinking so much.

"I thought this was for me," he grouches, and takes the nearly empty bottle from Mike's grasp. When Mike reaches for the tequila, Brad reaches for it first and holds it away from his grasp, and gives him a pointed look. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

Mike scoffs and reaches for the bottle anyway, snatching it from Brad's grasp. "...says the guy with no self control."

Offended, Brad puts his hands on his hips. "I have self control."

"Really?" Mike asks, raising an eyebrow. "If I hadn't told you not to have sex with our fans tonight, you'd be—"

"And I'm not, alright?" Brad interrupts then crosses his arms across his middle and shrugs. "I haven't done anything."

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