Chapter Text
Klavier wasn't going to watch the video. He wasn't.
Guilty Love was going to go platinum. The tour had sold out fourteen stadiums across the country. He'd done the major press stuff to kick it all off -- every talk show, SNL, GMA, and dozens of radio interviews. Did anyone even listen to the radio anymore? He'd gained millions more followers on instagram, some of his interviews were trending on youtube. His media blitz was working and it was amazing.
So he wasn't going to watch Mikeko's video.
They'd done so much New York press, then had flown back to LA for a few talk shows, then back to New York for the first stop of the tour. He was safely ensconced in his hotel room, the first few free hours he'd had in days, and tomorrow would be more press and then the first show. It was all awesome.
Daryan and the rest of the band were out partying. Of course they were -- Daryan was always partying, and the rest of the band -- Zephyr, Vance, and Kevin -- usually went with him. They'd all done plenty of press too, but not nearly as much as Klavier had. The band wasn't called The Crescends, after all, a fact Daryan periodically reminded him of in a very snide voice. But he hadn't been snide tonight, everyone was in too good of a mood, delighted by the album launch.
Klavier was, too, but he was dead exhausted after days of the endless media blitz. Instead of a party, all he really wanted was a bath in his luxury suite and a fancy dinner delivered right to him, and then to get eight whole hours of sleep.
So he was alone in his hotel room. He'd taken his bath. He'd had his dinner and most of a bottle of wine and a very rich chocolate cake dessert -- he'd need to work that off in the gym tomorrow. Now he was full and warm and sleepy and a little tipsy.
He wasn't going to watch the video.
He clicked play.
The thing was, Mikeko wasn't even a real music critic. He was a Youtuber. Of course, he was a youtuber with nearly a million subscribers whose views on each video were even higher. But still, it wasn't like he wrote for Rolling Stone (which had, of course, loved Guilty Love). No, he was just some guy who made videos and didn't even show his face. He was always represented by a cartoon cat. It had a few poses, each with a few frames of animation. It was cute. But it wasn't serious.
And yet Klavier always watched his reviews and they always felt like a knife in his ribs.
On his laptop, the cartoon cat sighed heavily.
"Okay. Okay. You all asked -- I mean all of you. I've never had an album review requested this much. And I hate reviewing Gavinners stuff. But there's no way around it. The Gavinners are somehow still the biggest band in the world so here I am again, wondering what the hell I'm missing."
That did not sound good. The cartoon cat lay down and began licking its paws.
"I don't like reviewing Gavinners stuff because I end up feeling so mean and gross in retrospect. They bring out my nasty side. And then you all reward my nasty side because one thing about this website is that it really rewards rants. And nothing makes me want to rant like the Gavinners. So... here we go again."
Klavier braced himself.
"First let me dispense with the stupid disclaimer stuff. When I was way younger I made a lot of videos about hating the Gavinners that were really stupid and shallow. I was a teenage boy and they were popular with teenage girls which meant all boys were required to think they were stupid and gay and prissy and whatever, and that's all toxic bullshit. I don't think that anymore. I mean, I am gay. I had to do a lot of thinking about my internalized bullshit and all, and I'm sorry I made such a name for myself off those videos because they were mean-spirited and shitty and wrong. So Gavinners stans, I'm sorry for that. You all were right. I was a total dick."
Klavier's heartbeat sped up. There was no way Mikeko had actually liked the album. He hated the Gavinners. He was infamous for hating the Gavinners. But that was already the nicest thing he'd ever said about the band.
"So that's the first thing. This is not going to be a video of me trashing Guilty Love because that's what everyone comes to my channel for. Sorry, but there are dozens of other channels you can watch if that's what you want. I'm going to review it, like an actual music critic, and evaluate it on its own merits. As fairly and objectively as I can. And so, without further ado…"
Klavier turned the volume on his laptop up, while the cartoon cat gestured with one paw.
"I hated it."
He groaned.
Mikeko launched into the review, track by track, dissecting every chord progression, every lyric, every single moment of the album. Klavier knew he should just turn it off -- he never should have turned it on. And it wasn't like it mattered. The album was likely to hit platinum status sometime tomorrow, and there were indeed plenty of other critics who'd panned it. This one shouldn't matter.
It was just that he liked so much of Mikeko's content.
He'd stumbled on it by accident a year ago. A video called bands I'm not cool enough to listen to. It had practically been a playlist of Klavier's favorite current music. He'd checked out the rest of the channel's content and had found a playlist of videos about influential albums, tracing their cultural impact through the decades. There were videos about the music that meant the most to Mikeko. And then there were the reviews.
Like the video intro had said, Mikeko's popularity had been launched off the back of a particularly nasty review of the Gavinners' third album. It had been harsh and cruel and biting and, unfortunately, hilarious. It had hurt.
Klavier didn't usually care about bad reviews. He made music he loved and it made many, many people happy, so why listen to the haters? But he'd binged hours of Mikeko's content and had immediately come to respect the man's -- the cat's -- opinion. It had been crushing.
Every subsequent album, same thing. Mikeko's taste was good, his reviews were smart, he was interesting and talented and Klavier loved everything he posted… but Mikeko always hated his work. Always. It was a running joke in the comments of his videos, on his twitter, everywhere else.
He finished his bottle of wine as he listened to the cartoon cat with such good taste explain why he was a hack (what's with the law and order theme, it's tacky and cringey and there's no real emotion in it), why his vocals sucked (such good potential, a strong instrument in his voice, but he needs to stop shouting and learn to put across a song, what if he tried singing about something he actually cared about), and why his production was bad (too flashy, all sizzle and no substance).
The video ended with the cat sighing, "I know it's gonna go platinum and I know I have to lock down all my other accounts for at least a week because I'm going to get death threats. But I promised I'd always be honest and this is how I honestly feel. I think there's so much raw potential in the Gavinners, I always get my hopes up that maybe the next album is the one where they'll actually try to make something good, and I'm always disappointed. Well, here's to disappointment. Now I've gotta go before someone laces my coffee with atroquinine. Anyway, here's the real Mikeko."
His videos always ended with a snippet of a very real cat, a fat calico who seemed to be asleep in almost every shot. In this one it opened one lazy eye, let out a grumpy meow, and licked its paw.
The video ended.
Maybe Klavier was drunk, maybe he was just feeling masochistic and disappointed. He let himself indulge, clicked over to twitter, ignored his endless notifications, and looked at @MikekoMusic to see what additional stinging commentary was over there.
It was not, as the cat had joked about, locked down. Thankfully, there weren't any further thoughts on the music. But the tweet that linked to the video had thousands of replies. Klavier clicked it, bracing himself, and --
@MikekoMusic I hope you die!!!!!!!!!!!!!
@MikekoMusic u deserve to go to prison & be raped every day, im coming for u
@MikekoMusic Why don't you try CREATING something instead of just criticizing?!?! You don't GET it you must be so fucking stupid
It was endless. Most of it was mindless abuse, stupid childish insults, but there were some threats in there, some awful, bloody graphics. A handful of people tweeted their support of the video, but most of it was pure vitriol.
His stomach churned. Maybe he shouldn't have had so much to drink.
These people were Klavier's own fans. They were coming to his defense. But this was all so nasty, so awful. Klavier had been devastated by the video, but it had never occurred to him just how much abuse a video like that would bring about. He respected Mikeko's opinion and the man did not deserve all of this.
He clicked the button to send a DM, but couldn't -- Mikeko didn't allow DMs from people who weren't mutual followers. Probably a good idea, considering all the hate he was getting. He clicked the follow button but of course Mikeko didn't follow him so it didn't matter.
No, he'd have to do this another way. He opened the box and tweeted:
Hallo friends! I am THRILLED by the reception to Guilty Love! Gavinners Stans, you are truly THE BEST fans a band could ask for!! --kg
He had to sign all of his own tweets. His management used the account to send updates and messages about all of their concerts and appearances and nearly everything lately had been part of the media blitz. But his fans were all assured, when that --kg signature was attached, it was directly from him.
He typed another tweet.
But one thing to REMEMBER for all of us: it's okay when someone doesn't like the album!! I respect my critics and their right to share their opinions - they are usually very smart people who work very hard too! Even when they have such bad taste that they don't like my stuff!! --kg
And then, even though he suspected it would be a little weird but he was too tipsy to think of why, he continued.
I have been a big fan of @MikekoMusic for years now! Haha perhaps someday I will write an album he likes…. But in the meantime please remember that critics are people too! Well maybe he is a cat. But still, please be kind, everyone!!! --kg
Apollo groaned and groped for his phone. His alarm had just gone off and he'd hit snooze, only to be inundated with texts.
Polly. Polly. POLLY!!!!
WHAT
Have you seen twitter?!?!?!
I don't go on twitter after I post about gavinners albums
YEAH I KNOW, BUT YOU NEED TO LOOK RIGHT NOW
Clay used caps more than any human ought to, but Apollo was used to that. And if Clay was telling him to check twitter, there had to be a reason, because Clay was the one who looked through his replies and comments for him and reported anything that looked actually serious. Not that he usually got the kind of shit he was getting right now. But Gavinners fans were completely crazy, in his experience. Crazy and very defensive of their band.
So it was a little surprising that Clay would urge him back on to twitter instead of remind him to avoid it. But he trusted Clay, so he opened twitter and --
He'd expected the rush of notifications, too many to ever keep up with. It took a second for him to figure out what was happening. Some were vitriolic but a lot were just weird, comments to him and Klavier freaking Gavin both, which meant someone had snitchtagged. Which he'd figured, it always happened, but it still seemed rude.
But no, there was something weird to this. People saying he was so gracious and sweet?
No. Not him. Gavin. What?
He was trending. Not locally, but nationally. Mikeko Music, related to Klavier Gavin and Gavinners and Guilty Love.
What?
Trepidation building, he clicked the topic. Read the headline. Then thought maybe he'd blacked out or something and read it again. But no, there it was.
Gavinners frontman Klavier Gavin stands up for critic who panned him - "I've been a fan of Mikeko Music for years"
He texted Clay.
What?!?!?!?
Clay sent him back a link to Klavier Gavin's official account, and there it was.
I have been a big fan of @MikekoMusic for years now! Haha perhaps someday I will write an album he likes…. But in the meantime please remember that critics are people too! Well maybe he is a cat. But still, please be kind, everyone!!! -kg
And oh yeah, the little twitter flag that specified "follows you."
Screw it. This called for more than texts. He hit call next to Clay's name and Clay answered with hysterical laughter. Apollo put the call on speaker and went back to twitter.
"Dude! Klavier Gavin is a huge fan of yours! Holy shit, you're big time!"
"It can't be true," Apollo said. "He can't -- how would he even know who I am? I'm just some Youtuber! I don't even show my face in videos! He thinks I'm a cat!"
"I don't think he really thinks that."
"So?! He -- Clay." Apollo stared at his follower count on twitter, which had gone up by several thousand, and then youtube, which had gone up by thousands more. "Clay, what do I do? I just gained like a gajillion subscribers because a guy I hate just told everyone to be nice to me."
"I don't know, dude. I think you have to say something."
"Like what?"
"Well, what do you think?" Clay returned.
"I don't know what to think! I don't know. He's always seemed like such a plastic fake to me, how do I even know if he really meant this?"
"Does it matter if he meant it? He told his fans to back off you and the number of shitty comments dropped immediately. And yeah now you're mostly getting people telling you how great he is, but still."
Apollo stared at twitter, at the replies that were still coming in. He couldn't just stare for long, though. He had a job interview in a little while and he had to get dressed and ready. He had to prepare, to really focus, so maybe that was for the best. He'd just put something quick out and then turn his freak-out toward the job interview instead.
Okay. Okay. He could do something normal, here. He opened the box and began to type.
Good morning everyone, how are you all doing? I've been awake for five minutes and my day is definitely completely normal so far, absolutely nothing strange and unexpected over here…
Approximately half a second after he posted it, replies started pouring in, mostly people laughing. Good. That was good.
For real though - wow. Look, the Gavinners' music is not to my taste but by all accounts, now including my own, @KlavierGavin is a class act. I hope his tour kickoff is fun and he has a great day.
"Aww, sweet," Clay said in his ear. "You could amp up the flirting, though."
"What? I'm not flirting."
"Right, you're not flirting, but you could be."
"Why would I -- why -- you're so weird."
"I'm not weird, I'm trying to be a wingman, here," Clay said. "Okay, his album made your ears bleed, but Klavier Gavin is hot as hell and openly queer and filthy rich. You could do worse, I'm just sayin'."
"Yeah, he's all of those things, but he's like -- not even real. He probably won't even see this tweet."
"Why wouldn't he? He follows you now."
"He follows thousands of--"
"He watches your videos," Clay interrupted. "He's been a fan for years. You never thought that would happen, but it did. So why wouldn't he see you tweet-flirt with him?"
"Well for one thing because I'm not flirting with him!"
Clay laughed in his ear. "Okay, okay. Look, I have to get to training and you have to get ready for your interview, so let's get going. I'll check your accounts later and let you know if you have any more weird rockstar emergencies. Grab a beer tonight?"
"Yeah, sounds good," Apollo said. "Enjoy your centrifuge machine, try not to puke."
He hung up to Clay's laughter and glanced at his notifications. Hundreds already. So weird. He shut his laptop and got up to shower.
Apollo had prepared and prepared and prepared for this interview. He'd done a half-dozen just like it, but this was LA and entertainment lawyers were a dime a dozen but they all also had dozens of people begging to work for them. It was big money. Not what he'd initially planned when he'd gone to law school, but it really seemed like the best field for him.
He could blame Youtube for that. He was, by every measure, an extremely successful creator. It had been slow to start but now his Patreon and ad money and the occasional sponsorship was enough for him to live on, and thanks to his law degree he could handle his own contracts, deal with his own takedown notices, and was generally surprisingly prepared for the legal and business side of things. Plus he figured he could work primarily with musicians -- his music stuff was really just a nerdy hobby, but when he got nerdy about something he went all in. He absolutely knew what was happening in music, and even when, like the Gavinners, he thought the zeitgeist was stupid, he still knew plenty about it.
So yeah, entertainment law. He figured he'd aim for a job at one of the big talent agencies. But he didn't want to put the Youtube stuff on his resume. Sure, it was good, but it was… weird. He'd never been one to put himself out there, he was much more comfortable keeping that all anonymous, especially when it started actually garnering attention.
Like it was right now.
He shoved that thought aside. But without it, his resume was a little sparse -- yeah, great grades, great letters of recommendation, but in an industry that relied on who you know, he didn't know anyone. Thankfully his finances were okay. He made a surprising amount from his videos, all told, but most of it was eaten up by student debt and the cost of living in LA. He'd be way more comfortable if he had a day job.
So here he was. He'd been passed over by the big companies, so he'd looked smaller, and found an opening for an entry-level jack-of-all-trades assistant gig, legal background required, reporting to the CEO of a company called KG Entertainment. They were "boutique" which apparently meant "tiny." But legit -- it was only a few people, and they only had a few clients, but they were so elite that they were the kind of company that didn't actually name their clients. Don't call them, they'll call you.
So yeah, he was curious about it. Personal assistant was not his ultimate goal, but it was a stepping-stone type job, and he was willing to pay his dues. He could always quit and fall back on his Youtube stuff if it really sucked. At this point, he figured, anything that would pad his resume was good.
KG Entertainment was located on the sixteenth floor of a high rise. He craned his neck looking up and the sun glistened off a jillion windows. He had a good feeling about this. Inside, a security guard gave him a temporary pass and directed him to an elevator bank, and up on the floor the office turned out to be a small suite. Someone let him in and he waited on an uncomfortable couch, drank a bottle of water, and looked around.
The walls were painted a soothing blue with a lot of fascinating framed art prints hung up. The windows were large and the sun poured in. There were magazines stacked on a table by the couch, and a few plants in large pots. There weren't any cubicles, just a few desks where people were buried in their computers and only periodically glanced up. A few doors to conference rooms or single offices. It was all very tasteful, quiet, professional.
One of the doors opened and a man swept out. He was wearing a powder blue suit and well shined shoes, a pair of wire-rimmed glasses and a blond ponytail that was… familiar. Shockingly familiar.
In fact, everything about him was.
Apollo swallowed. That wasn't Klavier Gavin. It couldn't be. But damn, it looked like him, and the company's name -- the company's name was KG Entertainment. Klavier Gavin?
But no. He had to just be losing his mind after that morning's weird twitter thing.
"Ah, Mr. Justice, I presume? It's nice to meet you. I'm Kristoph Gavin."
Kristoph Gavin. Okay. They had to be related. Apollo stood and shook his hand and said, "Hi, uh, Mr. Gavin. It's nice to meet you, too."
Mr. Gavin gave him a bland smile. "Let's chat in my office."
Apollo followed him past a few desks, including one that sat empty and clearly unused, right outside the office door. Inside the office, Mr. Gavin gestured him to a chair and took a seat behind the desk. Apollo glanced around. Floor-to-ceiling windows, fancy furniture, another beautiful painting, and yeah, a photo that was definitely Mr. Gavin standing next to Klavier Gavin, back when his hair had been short. It looked like they were on vacation somewhere tropical, all easy smiles and tanned skin, and they looked so much alike. Related, for sure. In fact, they had to be brothers. Apollo would bet on it.
"Thank you for having me in, Mr. Gavin," Apollo said, trying to take some initiative. "I'm looking for a role exactly like this. My specialty is in contracts and I'm really excited for--"
"Yes, yes," Mr. Gavin interrupted, sounding amused. "I read your CV, of course. I'm already aware of your background. So tell me something I don't know, Mr. Justice. Let me pose you a question. With so many big agencies out there, why would a client choose to sign with KG?"
"Oh, um." Apollo had prepared for this kind of thing, actually. He always did his research. "I guess, I think about it like this. There are big, power agencies out there, and they can get an artist's foot in the door, sure, but if you aren't a top earner you get lost in the shuffle. Only a very few clients get all the time and attention and, well, budget. But a boutique agency, with a highly curated clientele, you can really make sure all of your talent gets everything they need."
"An excellent summary, you've done your homework," Mr. Gavin said, and Apollo flushed with pride. He didn't have much to judge from, but just based on Mr. Gavin's demeanor, he was betting the guy probably didn't hand out compliments very often. "But on a more personal level, why would you want to work here and not at one of those agencies?"
Apollo had prepared for this. The bottom line wouldn't do -- that he couldn't get past the second round of interviews at those agencies. But there was nuance to it, too.
"Well, at a group like this, it's so small that everyone does a little of everything, right?" He'd read that somewhere, that small companies let people try their hand at everything and do whatever they happened to be good at. "I'd really get to see all parts of the company, how it all works. That would be amazing, a real chance to learn the ropes."
"It's long hours," Mr. Gavin said. "And much of the assistant work is quite dull. You'd be managing my schedule, filing papers, replying to emails. Fetching lunch. Yes, there's quite a lot of opportunity to learn and advance, but it is not glamorous."
"If I wanted glamor, I'd be aiming for in front of the cameras, not behind them," Apollo said, which was honest. He had no interest in being famous.
"Good." Then he gave a slight chuckle. "Well, there's some vicarious glamor, I suppose." He gestured at the photo. "I suspect you recognize my younger brother, Klavier. He's on a first-name basis with the whole world."
"I, uh, yeah," Apollo said. "The resemblance is uncanny."
"So we've been told. Are you a fan?"
"Of the Gavinners?" He managed not to wince. "I… I've heard their stuff. I mean, everyone has, you'd have to be living under a rock not to. It's… it's not exactly my genre, but Guilty Love is probably gonna continue the platinum streak, right? So it must just be my taste that's off."
There. He'd managed it, to say he didn't really like them without being too insulting. He hoped.
Mr. Gavin laughed. "Oh, don't worry. We don't play that three-chord trash in the office. But there's no arguing with his success. The fact of the matter is, while we do have other clients, KG Entertainment exists primarily to handle Klavier and his band. Which means you will, inevitably, have to deal with him. That requires a bit of a steel in your spine -- he turns most people to jelly without even trying."
"I'll bet," Apollo said.
"You're a little awkward, but very few people would tell a prospective boss to his face that they don't like his main client's art -- especially when that client is a blood relation," Mr. Gavin said, and gave him an approving smile. "I think, with a little tempering, we just might find some steel inside you. Congratulations, Mr. Justice, the job is yours if you want it, and if you can start on Wednesday."
It was Monday, mid-morning. But it wasn't like Apollo had anything other than some video editing to wrap up. He nodded eagerly. "I sure can, and thank you, Mr. Gavin. You won't be disappointed."
The album hit platinum a little after 3 PM, while Klavier and the rest of the band were doing a long meet and greet line in MTV's studio. They mostly weren't on air, just meeting people and smiling for selfies and signing posters, but every now and then a producer would run in and tell everyone to get ready and they'd do a live bumper for going into commercials.
It was magical, when they hit platinum officially. The studio crew was ready to go, recording as the pretty MTV personality with a microphone announced it, and the whole crowd cheered. Cameras swooped in on the band's reactions and Klavier grabbed his phone, knowing a photo op when he saw one, spun and held it out so from the camera's perspective he was in front of the gathered crowd, and yelled, "Everyone say ‘platinum'!"
The crowd echoed back enthusiastically and he snapped the shot and had it up on his twitter in a matter of moments:
Achtung, baby! Certified platinum and celebrating with a few hundred of my closest friends! What fun tour kickoff and a great day overall! --kg
He slid his phone away after that, since there were plenty more fans to talk with, but he heard a round of laugh and cheers go up and he wondered if anyone else got the reference. If Mikeko would see it and laugh and appreciate it. He hoped so and he'd check later.
Not that he should be thinking about it. But he hadn't expected people to react so strongly to his overture -- he hadn't really thought about what people might do or think. But people really had appreciated that he'd done that. And most importantly, Mikeko had appreciated it.
Not that he'd checked. Not that Mikeko's reply had put a dopey grin on his face. Not that he'd memorized every word of that tweet to savor.
It would be ridiculous if he did that. It would be crazy to think about a cat avatar and smile, and to wonder what the man behind it looked like. If he was as cute as his cat. To mentally compose a mix-tape for him, one which would walk the subtle line between flirty and thoughtful and also introduce him to some new music he might like, maybe. Things Klavier loved and was sure he'd appreciate.
It would be ridiculous to do any of that, because it would mean Klavier had a total crush on him. An anonymous critic who didn't even like him. That would be insane.
Klavier made a mental note to call Kristoph and see what he could find out, if maybe they could get Mikeko's contact information or something and set up an interview. It would be good for both of them -- for his reputation as a nice guy and for Mikeko's subscriber count, surely -- and Kris was good at arranging things like that.
With a ridiculous smile, he turned back to his adoring public and got back to work.
"Oh my god, this is perfect, though," Clay said, three beers deep. Clay wasn't really a lightweight -- that was Apollo -- but Clay always seemed a little drunk on joie de'vivre. He loved life more than anyone else Apollo had ever met. "Because okay, let's be real: Klavier is so into you."
"Yeah, right," Apollo snorted. "That's… stupid. Spurious conclusions! You need evidence!"
"And here you didn't want to be a courtroom attorney," Clay laughed. "But okay, his platinum tweet. It was a very obvious reply to you. Right?"
"That could all be coincidence."
"It's not! He used your words exactly."
"That doesn't mean he's into me, it just means he read my tweet. You're exaggerating and it's weird! Because now his brother is my boss! I'm going to be dealing with him at work! But he doesn't know I'm me, and anyway, it's probably just -- just a joke! He did a nice thing, but like, why would he care? The whole thing is insane! And -- and look at this!"
He slammed his phone down on the table in front of Clay, who glanced at his email. "Requests for statements? From… shit, like, half the internet?"
"Gossip sites!" Apollo half-yelled, and okay, maybe he was kind of drunk. But he was allowed. He was celebrating his new job and also whatever the hell Klavier Gavin was doing. "What is there to gossip about? It was three tweets from him, two from me, the end! I don't even like his album!"
Clay was laughing hysterically now. "Well, four tweets if you count the platinum thing. You have to make a statement!"
"Sure, okay, I'll do that." Apollo grabbed his phone back. Typed. Sent. Clay grabbed it.
"I didn't mean right now! You're drunk! What did you do?"
"I, uh." Apollo blinked. "Shit."
Clay laughed and read it outloud: "‘People keep asking for a statement but I don't have one and also I'm drunk. I'm glad it was a good day!' With three exclamation points. Oh, Polly. You are so wasted."
"Oh, fuck," Apollo said, but he couldn't stop laughing.
"At least if he replies you'll know if he's really reading or not!"
"What should I wear?" Klavier asked, staring at the clothing rack in despair. He was sticky and frankly a little gross, having just finished the main set of their first show. There wasn't enough time to shower before going out for the encore so he'd mopped as much sweat off with a towel as he could, changed out of his leather pants into some ripped jeans, and was clutching a mostly-finished mug of tea with lemon and honey in one hand. It was good for his throat.
Hmm. Maybe Mikeko was right, and he got kind of shouty on some songs. But then again, maybe Mikeko just didn't understand drama. How else was he supposed to keep up with Daryan's power chords?
"First concert," put in Zephyr, the drummer. "Gotta look sexy."
"Ja, gotta, and it's got to look good on twitter, too. There will be pictures."
"Oh my fucking god, is this about that stupid fucking catboy?" Daryan put in, then downed an entire bottle of water. "What the fuck, dude, you have got to stop stalking this loser."
"He's not a loser! And I'm not stalking. I'm just… interested."
A stagehand waved at them, giving the two-minute signal. Klavier frowned at the clothes rack. They'd pulled together dozens of options for each band member to choose from but he was stuck between a top that was just silver mesh, and one that was a ripped and faded t-shirt. Both would look hot.
"Hey," Vance, the bassist, laughed, "just don't wear a shirt, maybe that will impress your catboy."
"Good idea!"
"Don't encourage him," Daryan snapped.
"It's time," the stagehand said, and began pushing them back to the stage with only dim tracklights on the floor to see by.
"Hey," Zephyr called, as he set his phone down. "He tweeted."
The lights came up.
People keep asking for a statement but I don't have one and also I'm drunk. I'm glad it was a good day!!!
@MikekoMusic Drink some water! Get home safe if you are out! I hope you had a good day, too. :)
Smiley faces were definitely flirting. Clay was right. What the fuck.