Just one-shots with the hottest band in the world! Member x member only, can be platonic or romantic! Feel free to request anything, but just know I don't do smut.
I walked into the practice room, slumping behind my drumkit and letting out a yawn. Gene gave me a look, raising an eyebrow. "See I'd ask why you're tired but seeing as how you're wearing one of Bruce's shirts, I can connect the dots," he said with a smirk. Face burning, I chucked a drumstick at him. "Shut up! I like big shirts and his are really comfy," I said defensively. Laughing, he tossed my stick back. "You're not denying itttt," he teased.
Going even redder, I caught the drumstick, sinking lower into my seat. "Shut up," I muttered. "Maybe it's my shirt, you don't know." "Eric. It's got a gold diamond with the initials 'BK' in the middle of it right on your chest. I'm fairly certain that's not your shirt." "Whatever! He's my boyfriend, I'm allowed to steal his clothes!"
"Oh, so that's where my shirt went," Bruce said, walking into the room. "Sorry. I couldn't find mine this morning and yours was right there and it's really comfy." "I mean it's a bit too big for you but hey, better than showing up to practice half naked," he said with a shrug. Paul walked into the room, interrupting any further conversations, and we got started. I looked at Bruce with a frown as we practiced. Something seemed off. Usually he'd call me pet names or tell me he loved me or that I was cute or give me a kiss or even a hug, but he hadn't done any of that. He hadn't even given me a smile.
It didn't get better as practice went on, as he spent most of it just focusing on his guitar and the music we were playing. He didn't even glance at me. Heart sinking, I stared at him, trying desperately to figure out what was wrong, trying to remember if I had done or said something that would have upset him, but I kept coming up empty handed.
"Hey! Eric!"
I jumped, turning to look at Gene. "Y-yeah?" "Focus, man! You stopped playing for a second there!" he snapped, giving me a pointed look. I ran a hand through my hair. "Sorry, sorry. Just sort of spaced out there for a second." "Well, try not to. We really do need to keep working on this album," he said, going back to his bass. Nodding, I tried to focus on playing, but I couldn't stop worrying about Bruce.
The instant practice ended, Bruce said a vague goodbye to the three of us, walking out of the room without even acknowledging me. I stared after him in horror, mouth dropping open, as Gene and Paul gave me a confused glance. "Um...did something happen between you two?" Paul asked. I shook my head, setting aside my drumsticks and jumping to my feet, running after Bruce. "Bruce! Bruce, wait! Wait up!" I called after him. He drew to a halt, turning to look at me before letting out a sigh. "Oh, hey Eric," he said in a tired voice.
"'Hey Eric?' That's it?!" I cried. He shrugged. "I said hello, what else do you want? Am I not supposed to greet you?" he asked, the hint of a sneer in his voice. I took his hand, giving him a worried look. "What's wrong? Did something happen? If I did something I'm really sorry, please let me know so I can make it up to you! If it's about the shirt I'm really sorry, I was just running late and I grabbed the first one I could find!" He let out a sigh, shaking his head and pulling his hand free of mine. "It's not the shirt. It's you," he said.
I took a step back, staring at him. "Wh-what?" I choked. "I want to break up. Dating you isn't the same as it was, it's not as nice as I thought it would be. You're just not right for me. I want to go back to being friends." "F-friends?! But...but we've been...we've been dating for like six years! I don't understand, what happened?! What did I do?!" I cried. "It's been six years, what changed?!" He shrugged, not looking at me. "It's just not right. We're just not right for each other. I'm sorry."
"But I don't understand! Bruce I don't understand what changed! It's been six years and-and you've never said that it wasn't right to be together before! Did something happen last night?! I'm really sorry if I hurt your feelings, please just tell me what happened so I can make it up to you!" I begged. "There's nothing you can do to make it up, because there was nothing specific you did. We're just not right. I'm done," he said, turning and walking down the hall.
Chest heaving, I stared after him, hands balling into fists. "There's someone else, isn't there?! You found someone else, didn't you?!" I shouted after him. He froze, turning to stare at me, mouth pressing into a thin line as his eyes narrowed. "Are you fucking serious? You really think I would've cheated on you?" he hissed. "Well that makes more sense than you falling out of love in one night!" I shouted back. "Eric, I just don't like you anymore! Just fucking accept that!" he shouted. "But why?! Why don't you like me anymore?!" I shouted back.
Trembling, he drew himself to his full height as he stood in front of me, forcing me to look up even more at him. "Because I'm done with you. I don't like you. I'm tired of having to deal with you always being so overdramatic and so emotional and taking everything so personally and just always being such a handful! I'm done!" he said, ending in a shout and giving me a shove before storming off.
"Well fuck you too!" I screamed after him. "I hate you!" He didn't even bother to turn around, just kept walking until the door swung shut behind him. So mad I was shaking, I stormed off to my car, driving home to my apartment. "Fucking asshole. See if I care. I don't care! I hate him! I'm glad we broke up! I wanted to break up anyway. I was gonna dump his sorry ass today anyway. He just got there first. See if I care. I don't! I don't care! He sucks, he always sucked! He was the worst boyfriend for the six years we were together. Hate that guy. Hate him. Who even cares? Not me. I don't care," I muttered, walking up the steps to my apartment, unlocking the door and walking inside.
"Glad we're done. Yeah, I'm glad we're done! Who even cares about him! The only thing I'm mad about is the fact I couldn't dump him first!" I said, drawing to a halt in front of my bookshelf. I stared at the many framed pictures of Bruce and I, taking a shuddery breath before a wave of anger washed through me and I grabbed the nearest one, slamming it onto the floor. "I hate you!" The glass in the frame shattered, shards spreading across the floor. Heart pounding, I looked down at it, anger evaporating. Chest starting to heave, I sat down abruptly on the floor, burying my face in my hands and starting to sob.
"I loved you," I choked.
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