we just make music baby (2hollis x reader) - pt 2
˙⋆✮ you and Hollis broke up a few months ago, but he invites you back into the studio to make music again. just as friends. (inspired by the JR song)
˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮
˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮
2crush22: hey you’re still coming today right?
You stared at the time the message was sent. 5:32 AM. You audibly laughed out loud at the idea of Hollis waking up at five in the morning to ask if you were still coming to the studio. In the morning, when everything was much brighter than the eeriness of last night, you were a little less nervous. And it seemed now that Hollis was just as scared of you as you were him; it was oddly comforting. You two had never been so on edge with each other, and yet, like everything, you were in sync somehow.
You typed back a nonchalant “yeah” and headed for the shower. While the hot water was running down your body, you thought about making music seriously for the first time in months. Last night you’d been so caught up worrying about seeing Hollis again that you’d forgotten the whole music-making part. You’d probably just whip out something from your demos, but you’d have to look through them first. You didn’t want anything too good to be taken for your song with him.
Going through your usual routine of getting ready wasn’t hard. Just a bit of concealer, blush, the works. It was at the end of your routine that you stood staring at your array of perfumes. It was your natural instinct to reach for your recent favorite; a flowery designer scent that had been offered to you by the brand themselves. But your fingers betrayed you and you found yourself reaching for the bottle that sat at the back of the shelf; one Hollis had bought for you.
“What, do you want me to smell like an ex-girlfriend or something?” You had asked him on the day he bought it, turning over the bottle in your hands.
“No? ” Hollis groaned, shaking his head. “I was shopping in Berlin and I found it at this little shop. The bottle was really pretty so I decided to try it.”
“And?” You popped off the cap of the silvery bottle very gently. It looked like glass. “Oh, wow, this is nice.” The perfume was heavy; it smelled like the street after rain, with a little bit of clean sweetness mixed in that could be akin to honeysuckle. You turned to him, trying to suppress a grin. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. The second I smelled it, I was like, yeah. I need to smell this while I’m kissing Y/n.”
“Oh, you were thinking about kissing me?”
“Yeah, come here, don’t look at me like that—”
The memory replayed uncomfortably in your mind as you spritzed the perfume around yourself. It smelled a bit more alcoholic than you remembered, probably on the verge of expiring. The scent was tainted, just like the memories that went along with it. Fuck. You should’ve just stuck to your usual; now you would spend the rest of the day with a big cloud of bitter sadness following you.
Before getting ready to leave, as it was almost ten o’clock as you and Hollis planned, you skimmed over some demos, humming to yourself. A few of them were so old, he’d helped you make them. You settled on a few mediocre options that you were willing to pass on to the collab and made your way to the car.
You didn’t bother listening to anything special on the way there; just some radio hits that went in one ear and out the other. Today would be your first time in four months seeing Hollis (by choice). You knew you’d be forced to study him, smell him, relieve all the things you loved about him.
It’s just music. That’s all it is. You knew damn well what he was up to; spewing some bullshit about being worried about you was totally a trick. If he wanted you around, he was going to have to deal with the fact that you wouldn’t be putting up with this.
You entered the studio, nearly floating out of sheer nervousness. You knew exactly which room he’d be in, because it was both of your favorites. The familiarity was crashing down on you like waves; only worsened by the alcoholic scent that hovered around you.
“Hey,” was the first thing Hollis said when you entered the studio. It was like the Instagram message except a thousand times worse, seeing him there in front of you.
The first thing you noticed—and God, were you embarrassed about it—was that he gained muscle. A lot of it. He was wearing an old hoodie that you recognized, and yet he was filling it out better than ever before. You fixed your gaze before it was obvious that you were checking him out; but that was even worse. Meeting his eyes was like a brutal flashback of the entire year and a half you’d spent together; those hadn’t changed one bit. He stared back at you, his white face pulled into an expression you couldn’t read. Not being able to read Hollis. That was strange. That never happens.
He looked away first, turning a complete one-eighty that resulted in him facing the wall and looking like a dork.
“Hey,” you replied, setting your bag down in a chair. On the desk sat two coffees; one half drank, the other completely full with whip cream on top.
“Hey,” Hollis said again, coming around to face you with a bit more bravado. “I got you that.” He pointed to the untouched coffee. “Um, alright. Let’s get to work.” He clapped his hands, paced the studio for one lap, and took a sip of his drink. “What have you got?”
It was such a marvelous performance of discomfort that you nearly laughed in his face. You’d never seen him as awkward as this, not even on your first date. Ignoring his unsettling behavior, you picked up your coffee. “You remembered my order,” you remarked, observing the sticker on the side of the cup.
“Not like I didn’t spend a year and a half trying to get it right.”
“Is it really that hard to get an iced caramel latte right?”
Hollis scoffed. “Do you not remember the time I brought home a vanilla one?”
“Yes, and I drank it and it was fine!”
“Yeah, but ever since that day you’d tell me your order over and over and over so you know I’d get it right.” He paused. “You never trusted me.”
And there it was. Hollis stared at you, eyes melting with grief. You cursed him in your head. He couldn’t even make it through the first conversation without referencing your breakup somehow. Of course. Why did you think it would ever be easy to be trapped in this stupid fucking studio with him?
You disregarded him completely, not giving him the satisfaction of opening that can of worms. “Music. I have some demos here.” You took out your phone and began shuffling through which one to play first. You sipped on the coffee; it was slightly watery from all the time it sat waiting.
“I do prefer vanilla, now, by the way,” you told Hollis offhandedly.
“Maybe if you’d spoken to me in the last three months I would’ve known that,” he huffed, rummaging through a stack of headphones.
“I didn’t want to. I still don’t, and you’re making me think this was a bad idea. Just please.” You thrusted your phone at him. “Just make music, and don’t make this weird. Got it?”
˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮˙⋆✮
a/n: I know I'm still niche but thank you so much for all the kind feedback on the first installment of this fic! definetly more coming :D
taglist: @holli22star , @sweet2sin , @tempified , @angelrazor6000