LIVES ARE ENTERTAINMENT.

the road i walk is paved in gold to glorify my platinum soul. i'll buy my way to talk to god, so he can live with what i'm not. this selfish blood runs through my veins, i gave up everything for fame. i am the lie that you adore, i feed the rich and fuck the poor.

[dvstbunny]

streetperformertrevor‌:

“Aye, t’at’s definitely true, isn’t it? Don’t need a five year old runnin’ ‘round, wreaking havoc upon everyone, do we?” Trevor snorted, shaking his head as he took another drag from his cigarette, finally finishing it. He stopped the rest of it out into the ground, relieved when his headache was finally slowly going away. “Too bad I rarely was awake t’see it, aye? Only seen t’at shite like… Maybe twice since I’ve been in th’band? But t’at’s true. I know exactly what y’mean.” He had to admit, he’d done the same exact thing once or twice, but he was at least in a pair of boxers or something. He couldn’t bare the idea of someone coming by and yanking his robe open and being exposed to the whole world. Hearing the man speak again, he couldn’t help the snort that came from him when Dustin told him to be careful with him since he was prone to addiction. “Oh fuck off mate! Actin’ like I already fuckin’ wasn’t. Shite, now I might be even more…” He trailed off the last part when he felt that gentle kiss to his cheek, making him grin. He followed quickly after, not even bothering to take off his sunglasses. Might as well look cool when you’re feeling like you’re gonna drop at any second, right?

“Pretty sure there’s kids here already doing that, but I’m sure they’re high on a sugar rush.” No doubt driving their parents adequately insane. Speaking of insane, it might be ideal for him to steer clear of his vocalist he had neglected to see in t-minus several weeks if he happeend to... manifest in the middle of the party. It was always strange to see the street rat clean himself up and try to blend in with those that knew how to mingle among the rich, but it had been an increasingly common sight since his marriage. “I usually take my pants off when I’m drunk and then I sleep... without my pants, so that’s where you’ll find me,” he replied with a snort. Anyone else would’ve found it rather sad, but he’d learned how to compartmentalize the fucked up pieces of his life. Now I might be even more. His smile remained teasing, though inwardly he worried if the banter were true. Dustin wasn’t someone a person should get stuck on, frankly. Rather disorganized with his own life, outside of his work, the fact Trevor had a kid made it immensely complicated. No need to breach simplicity. Entering the building with him, he brushed a wrinkle from his suit jacket, the flashy decor appealing to his taste perfectly. “I think there’s a bar around here somewhere. mind leading me in that direction?”

[dvstbunny]

streetperformertrevor‌:

“Hey! Been fairly good. Got Killy a babysitter so I could fuckin’ be ‘ere.” Trevor gave a grin, taking a long drag from his cigarette before blowing the smoke out slowly after a second. Trevor knew when he knew the intentions of the whole fundraiser, that he would probably toss out way too much money since  the foster program was near and dear to his heart. “Understandable. T’ough, I’m s’prised you’re worried ’bout th’smell. You’re usually smokin’ no matter what, aren’t ya?” He teased playfully, trying to make absolutely sure now that no smoke came Bastian’s way. Watching the man’s signature little smirk turn into that smile made Trevor almost melt into a puddle, but he tried hard to remain calm. “T’ey usually do, which is weird, I know… Fuckin’ adictions, man.. If it ain’t one t’ing, it’s a fuckin’ ‘not’er.. But… I’d be happy t’have some drinks wit’ ya… But jus’ one, yeah? Don’t wanna go overboard. Addictive personality.” He pointed at himself with a laugh. 

The model chuckled, about to comment that it was probably best to avoid having children here, but on second glance, he thought he saw one skitter by. Huh. Quite formal, indeed. “Fair. Kid won’t understand the shit going on anyway, he’d get bored.” What did he know? His knowledge on children was limited, and at the moment, he had no desire whatsoever to further it. Tempted to pull out his own cancerous byproducts, he presumed he would be drinking soon enough to abate the desire, tucking his hands into his pockets and lifting his brows. “Usually in my robe, outside the bus, in the morning. Very naked under the robe, which is why Cy always walks right back inside when he sees that. But I guess you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Dustin joked, removing his glasses he’d sported to drive and closing the frames, tapping them against his hand absently. “You get addicted to cures for stress. But I suppose that means you should be careful with me, then, if you’re prone to addiction.” Teasing simper pursued, he stepped forward, pressing a kiss to Trevor’s cheek, pulling away then and beckoning him, walking for the door.

[dvstbunny]

estiek‌:

Estie giggled. “My breath is okayyyy I chew gum.” she said with a big smile before shaking her head. “I’m not going to drink water. Waters for chumps, and i’m no chump sir!” she said, giggling more. The room was spinning a bit but she was feeling confident, she knew she looked hot in her outfit and she’d decided she wanted to go home with this guy. He seemed to be a lot older than her, but he wouldn’t be her oldest. She pulled him towards the bar. “J-just one second, okay? I’m-I’m really thirsty” she said, ordering herself a screwdriver. She wrinkled her nose and looked at Dustin. “I can do anything. The roof….it can’t stop me.” she said, shaking her head and taking a sip of her drink when it came. “How old do I look?” she asked, winking playfully at him before pulling her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder as she began pulling him towards the stairs to the roof. “I umm…i’m not gonna get kicked out.” she said confidently, shaking her head. “I’m too nice for that.” she added as she stopped at the bottom of the stairs to lean against the banister so she wouldn’t fall over. “Tell me…tell me about you.” she said, staring up at him as she used her free hand to play with the lapel of his jacket.

“Do you? Right now, you smell like a mini-bar,” he deadpanned sincerely, no qualms whatsoever with pointing it out to her. Sir. Oh, god, no. God forbid. “Dustin. Dusty is fine. Just-- don’t call me that.” He loathed the use of it, as if he were some old jank, a counterfeit instead of a model in the prime of his youth. No, no, no-- he’d worked very hard for where he was, and he refused to entertain the notion he might become obsolete in the next few years if he couldn’t keep up the image his contractors had been pressuring him to. Wincing when she continued to drunkenly spout about her... what was she talking about? The roof-- it can’t stop me. “But gravity can, sweetheart,” he returned, a patronizing tinge lurking in his voice, “I am definitely... definitely not going to be responsible if a...” Grey eyes scanned over her face, trying to calculate how old she was. She didn’t look twenty-one at the very least. “...Teenybopper falls off the roof when she was two inches away from me.” Or gets pushed, at this rate. Dustin was already fed up with the prattle when he wanted a drink of his own on his own, until his nerves were lax and the world itself was naught but a floating island below. Not blind drunk, merely enough to slip him into a dreamless sleep. Damn it, he wanted to order from that bar, instead he was being pulled up to the damn roof within seconds, the energetic zipping reminiscent of his vocalist-- who, ironically, was stumbling down the stairs with his brother sticking to him, laughing his ass off. Safe to say, Cyrek’s brother looked hassled. Distracted promptly by her hand on his lapel, he brushed it off insistently, dreading the thought of wrinkling the fabric. “Give me that drink in your hand and I totally will. I’m an open book for a fee, girly.”

[dvstbunny]

qrpjess‌:

Jessica was beginning to grow tiresome of the occasion. Its formality exhausts her and she has wasted almost an entire hour being displayed with some of the worst outfits she has ever got the displeasure of seeing in her entire life. With perhaps the exception of a handful of people she adores, she’s rather peeved by the rest of assemblege. A loud heave triumphs over her mouth and she adjusts her high-low dress while she pulls one of the dining seats downstairs, bearing almost zero interest to the speech above. Halfway through her drink, a familiar voice brings about her attention. Surprised to see the man she’s met weeks ago there. “Yeah. Upstairs. Where everyone is.” She chimes lighthearted. “Dustin. I’m quite taken aback to see you here. Didn’t peg you as someone who would attend a rather taxing event like this.” 

One could say he was equally surprised to see Jessica there, pleasantly so, a smile curvating his lips. “Pretty lady from the diner, it’s you, and looking even prettier. Do you always show up in fascinating places like this?” he asked, stepping forward to take her hand and bring it to his lips for a brief, but polite, kiss, giving it a squeeze before releasing her from his hold. She was intriguing, stimulating to parts of his mind that had lay dormant after he’d all but abandoned his interest in academia post-graduation, though he had entertained the idea of a master’s degree for a time. Pulling out his own chair, he sank into the seat across from her, brushing aside the gnawing urge to head upstairs for a cocktail. Fingers toying with a strand of his black hair, an elusive smile played on his features, cocking his head to the side. “Well, I wasn’t going to show, truth be told. However, I kind of figured that it would be unproductive to veg out on my couch all week. You know? Why do that when I can talk to you?” Dustin chaffed, winking in her direction, leaning back in the chair.

[dvstbunny]

hcatheralcott‌:

“Mhm, other than some refreshments, you might also find your main guy zapping around from all the fucking booze he’s had. Talking about gothic chinchilla, of course,” she had managed to yank Cyrek off before he could embarrass himself even further, still, she wasn’t in her top-shape and wasn’t able to keep an eye on him at all times, with her own family also being her top priorities. She’d steered away to feed a slice of cake to her son and when she turned around after, he was no longer anywhere near her vision. The mansion was immensely vast as well, implausible to track people down easily, though she figured she could do that later, once she had handed her son back to her wife. “Let me know if you see him, okay?” A pause, before a simper etched briefly on countenace–she readjusted her torso, a brief sting on her fractured arm earning a slight wince. “Lookin’ sharp as always, though. You here by yourself?” 

“He’s doing what now?” As disinterested as a man could sound, Dustin was partially intrigued by the thought. “Zapping around as in running or doing that weird dance he does when he gets super drunk? You know, the...” Making to mimic it, awkwardly, similar to the way an alien imitating a robot imitating a human might drive, he sated the desire to embarrass his main vocalist further and focused on the man’s... sister? Again, wasn’t she a tad taller before? “See him? Why’s that? You worried about him? I guarantee he’s been more drunk off toilet wine, he’ll puke it off in the morning,” he responded with a despondent shrug, running a hand through his jet black hair while chancing a chaste glance about the mansion itself. Only then, when he felt an insistent yank on his pantleg, did he register the-- small child clinging to him. Oh. Fuck. The kid looked happy to see another guy, simply put, and he sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek, wishing a glass would magically appear in his hand. “This is-- uh-- Is this yours?” Tucking his glasses into the pocket of his suit jacket, nodding in affirmation. “You know it. Looking to leave in good company, though, if you catch my drift.”

[dvstbunny]

[dvstbunny]

hey y’all! it’s ya girl. my muse for bastian / dustin has been a bit... so-so with stuff going on in my life, so i decided to try to change things up in the hopes of boosting muse, but nothing else beyond name / fc / url have changed (other than in terms of appearance) whatsoever-- if you feel the need, please feel free to review his about page and his intro. thank you for your patience / understanding, we’ll see how this fc goes and everything <3

[dvstbunny]

estiek‌:

The young girl had only been there for about an hour and she was already plastered. She’d grabbed a table for support and leaned against it, trying to look like she was doing something instead of just being a drunk idiot. Estie giggled to herself as a few older women walked by and gave her the evil eye. She wouldn’t lie, she’d dressed a bit more provocative in hopes that some rich guy would sweep her off her feet and take her away from the bullshit at home. Estie decided to wander out towards the foyer when a man stopped her. She looked him up and down, she’d be lying if she said he wasn’t cute. The girl stared into his big blue eyes and nodded. “Uh huh.” she said, a bit stunned by his beauty before hiccuping lightly. “I-I can take you, handsome” she said, taking his hand and giggling lightly before stumbling a bit. 

Holy shit, she was incredibly drunk. He could practically smell her breath from a yard away; how long had she been drinking prior to the party? Typically, he would have been eager to return the flirting, but she seemed way younger than him. “Whoa, you need a breath mint, lady. As much as I appreciate the compliment, I think I should be treating you to... water,” he said, leaning back just a little and finding his hand entangled in hers seconds later. Oh great, he was about to be chaperone by a drunk girl this entire evening, with dwindling hope of getting himself drunk for fear they’d get kicked out of the whole damn party and tarnish his reputation by headlining alcoholic model back at it again. “Are you sure you can make it to the roof, chicky? How old are you?” Not that he was in the position to judge, drinking before the legal age restriction when he had entered the modeling career. “I think you should stay out of sight of the hosts if you want to continue being part of the entourage,” Bastian added, reluctantly catching up to pace with her and interlocking his arm through hers decidedly, concerned she was going to lose her sense of gravity.

[dvstbunny]

streetperformertrevor‌:

To be honest, Trevor had no idea why he was there. He didn’t really drink much and he definitely wasn’t too social. Instead, he tended to stay in his own little circle of friends, rarely ever straying from them. Maybe it was the fact that Bastian was there. Trevor had been a little happier since their night together and he kind of wanted to do it again. However he knew, if he continued doing so, he’d get too attached and that’d be bad for both of them. He didn’t want the band breaking up because he caught stupid feelings and got jealous whenever Bastian got drunk and showed his ass off to everyone within a mile radius. He did, however, really like the man and his company… Maybe that was a one time thing… Something good for the two of them.. He was just lighting his cigarette outside and pushing his glasses up since he had the beginnings of a headache forming when he heard that familiar voice. “Hey! Nah, I dunno, mate. Jus’ got ‘ere an’ I’m tryin’ t’get a cigarette in b’fore I go it…See if t’at helps wit’ me headache any..”

“Hey, stud, what’s up?” Smirking, the model shifted his hands into the pockets of his suit pants, winking playfully. A night of fun had blown off steam for him, and moving right on along, he was prepared to settle into the fundraising party for the evening. His main intention of being present was all the free crap, though he’d considered donating a little. After all, he knew many people who had been raised in the foster care system and he wasn’t completely heartless. Questionable. “I’d have one, but I don’t want my nice suit to smell like smoke when I go in. Then I’d have to drown it in cologne.” Which he carried with him, needless to say, along with a spare comb in case his hair needed to be preened. Models always had to look their very best. Smirk softening to a smile, he ran his fingers through his own hair. “I don’t think cigarettes will help headaches though. Come inside and have a drink with me, why don’t you? Couldn’t let you hang out here all lonely.”

[dvstbunny]

The party was exactly what he had expected it to be, perfect for him to fit right into. Originally, he had wanted to stay home, the way he had when he had heard about the rave. Eventually, the opportunity of free alcohol was all too tempting for the model, and thus, here he was in his best velvet suit, mingling with the rest of the richies until they wandered off in search of extra excitement. Probably to do lines of coke in the bathroom, if he had to guess. After being caught the second Bastian had stepped foot into the mansion, he hadn’t had the time to allocate any of the refreshments, nor the main party. He was fairly certain other people he knew would be here too, which meant he should be careful about snagging the alcohol-- then again, it was a party. What was wrong with self-indulgence? Stopping the nearest person as he left the foyer, he asked, “Hey, do you know where the refreshments are at? Is it on the roof?”

[dvstbunny]

streetperformertrevor‌:

Trevor gave a slight snicker when he felt the other playfully sock at his arm. He knew for a fact that if the man had truly wanted to, he could easily leave a bruise on him. Granted, he was pretty sure he did anyways, at least a tiny one. He was always getting bruises for unknown reasons. Knocking into a wall by accident? Large bruise. Letting Killarney playfully bap a palm at his leg? There’d be a tiny bruise from that. He had to remind himself to tell that to a doctor whenever he went to one. Feeling the other’s hands on his face felt like electricity. Letting him press further into the kiss and straddling him, he moved to place both of his hands on either side of the model’s hips, pulling him just a little closer and steadying him on his lap. “Yeah? How d’ya expect t’do t’at, hmm?” He teased playfully with a smirk, moving to sit up a little so he was an inch from the man’s lips, teasing him by being so close, yet so far away. “Do it…” He breathed, his eyes flicking up to the other’s eyes, daring him.

Bright blue eyes fixated on the other man’s face, breathing heavier with swollen lips from the kiss itself, hands pulling him closer brought a smirk to his face. Without answering verbally, he leaned in, teeth sinking into his lower lip and tugging, the younger male let his lips travel southbound, nipping and biting at flesh. Warmth coursed through his being, near scorching his insides, his fingers curled into the other man’s shirt, seeking to undo the buttons and tugging insistently. Lifting his head to meet Trevor’s lips again, Bastian leaned into him, starting to rock against his lap enticingly, intentionally gasping into his mouth. Pulling away for air after a long moment, he met the other’s eyes, nails digging into his arms and insistently keeping himself close with the older male. One hand drifted down toward his crotch, whispering, “Don’t think about it. Fuck me right here,” the model urged, thighs squeezing the other’s, index finger tracing along his jaw, “Then we could move to the bedroom... Yeah?” Fingers gripping Trevor’s chin firmly, he kissed him again, passionately, sloppily, adding in a husky tone, “I want you, Trev.”

[dvstbunny]

streetperformertrevor‌:

“Oh, fuck off, mate!” Trevor couldn’t help but laugh, nudging the man playfully in the shoulder with his own elbow. Of course, he definitely wanted to see it, but he wasn’t going to outright say it. It seemed… Rude to him to even mention it to the other since they weren’t really together. It was true, Trevor was definitely wrapped around the man’s finger. But he was also super wrapped around Daniel’s as well. And Cy’s… And probably Orion’s. He’d do anything for those four. “Well…I won’t really talk too much detail, but his da’ came back… T’find Orion… Didn’t turn out well…” He frowned, glancing down for a moment. If there was a way to go back in time and confront the bastard before he ever got to Orion, he;d do it without any second thought… He felt, in a way, like he let him and Cy down, since he did say that he would protect them both no matter what happened. Trevor could continue to preach about everything for hours if he was given the chance. But once he looked down to the other in his arms and saw he was staring at him, searching every inch of his face, it made him pause. And the call of his name? He was about to ask what was wrong, but then the press of the warm lips against his happened, making his breath hitch and his heart race. It took a split second, but he pressed his lips right against his. God, this was so weird, but deep down… He loved it… He loved it more than he would let on.

Bastian smirked knowingly, playfully socking him in the arm, the force of the hit harboring little strength behind it. If he’d really wanted to hit someone, he could’ve easily knocked their block off. The intimacy was moderately comfortable, though his subconscious worried naggingly about his appearance when he was too close to someone, that he’d get overexposed and suddenly, his vulnerabilities would be palpable. He’d never been one for serious relationships, merely passing flings or one-night stands, apt to keep others at arms’ length for the same reason he kept a distant sort of personality. He could be an asshole, or he could be humorous without the thought crossing his mind of the warped opinions that would arise for his slip in armor. Trevor’s words began to fade into the background, muddling together into a melding pot, his hands clasping on either side of his face when their lips met. Boldly, the model leaned in further to the kiss, delving deeper in his passion, slinging a leg over the man’s thigh and lifting his body up from its seated position to straddle him. “I could change your whole life if you let me,” he breathed teasingly when he pulled away from the kiss, smirking and tilting his head, “Should I kiss you again?”

[dvstbunny]

qrpeddie‌:

“Oh wow.” Eddie says, quite impressed. “You actually have been in the industry longer.” See this is why he doesn’t fuck around with the people working behind the scenes. Some of them have histories that have gone far beyond what the common media has chosen to represent and have had skills that could very well exceed what the society has decided to bloviate about these days. Never judge a book by its cover Eddie theorizes, it’s one of the self written protocols he needs to keep reminding himself. “I’ve had people come to me and request offers in modelling. Never took any except for the one-two photoshoots for my stills. What’s that like?” His manager has told him expanding his expertise would be good for luture projects and he’s trying to reap anything they can possibly pitch even when it’s just something he doesn’t exactly enjoy in the long run. “Just let it sit. The dandruff probably also came from all the fake stuff they had to put me on.” He laughs softly. “I’ve had to switch teams more times then I could count. Three years ago my so-called team treated me like shit. Fucking had to work eighteen hours a day for a whole year and they gave me very little to work on. Came close to dear old death many times since apparently even the best of the best made mistakes and I guess those mistakes constitute almost snapping my neck and killing me in the process cause they were too egotistical to follow protocols and check the wires that were supposed to keep me safe. I don’t think I’ll ever leave the stuntman part though. The adrenaline rush is too addictive for me to let go.” He tilts his head as instructed and he sighs inaudibly. “That’s impressive. What’s the name of the band that you work for?” He can’t help his curiosity. “Got to meet some A-listers myself. A whole bunch of them are snobs though. Give zero fucks for what they preach on television. It’s almost sad. I’m sad for the people who continue to put them on a pedestal.” 

“Longer than you? Interesting. Yeah, I got the fuck out of my small town out of high school and moved right on along. Never been happier.” It wasn’t true; he had never particularly been happy. Initially, the burst of fame and the attention had been a thrill for the neglected teenager. Shortly, he learned the dark sides of the business, how it could be just as crimson-bathed in its own way as his hometown horror. His higher education was lesser known, seldom discussed, considering he did very little with it after his vices had consumed his life a second time. Concluding his trimming of the dead ends on the man’s hair, he retrieved his electric razor to knock off the initial layer of facial hair before he’d start trimming it, considering the actor’s question. “Not as glamorous as everyone makes out, but... if you’re doing it as an actor and not as your sole career, I think you’ll be fine. You may not have the natural ability to work the camera, though, so be patient if they tell you do this or that until they get it right, the photographers are usually working like, sixteen hour days. I sound like I’m shitting you, but I’m really not. Crew busts their ass.” They don’t speak about what happens behind the curtain, either, the abuses they must witness the models go through. Himself included. They turn the other cheek or risk a hefty paycut, if they don’t get fired first. Quickly working the shave down the excess scruff on Eddie’s face, he turned off the razor and set it aside, using his foot to pump the chair up higher to tend to the leftover work. “Ah, you know how it is, entertainment industry is fucking rough. Even the music industry is, I’ve had to get up on little sleep for a music video shoot before... our vocalist was practically fucking dead in the water, and hungover,” Bastian sympathized, “For what it’s worth, you’re still here and climbing the ranks now. Keep it up.” Glancing at his face when he inquired about the band, he nodded his head, replying, “It’s called Avant-Garde Society. It’s sort of in the less popular genre, you may not have heard of it.” The band had certainly gained traction, but it could still fall on the wayside. Chuckling when the other prattled about the egotistical side of the business, he wasn’t sure he should respond, fully aware he was exactly like some of those A-listers. “Williams was lovely, Jackman was fairly humble, too... It depends on the person, you know? It’s a coping mechanism for some,” Bastian mused with a shrug, tipping Eddie’s chin to the other side.

[dvstbunny]

streetperformertrevor‌:

“I might’ve. I mean, seriously, who hasn’t? Your arse has been fuckin’ all ‘round th’bloody globe.” He snorted. When it came to Trevor, he couldn’t help but look at it more than once. More than twice… He kind of wished his ass looked like that, but he knew it never would. He wasn’t really one to gain much weight, whether it was fat or muscle. His body just wasn’t like that. However, he couldn’t help but notice the other’s weight loss, at least just in his face. He had a strange feeling he’d been going back to his old ways, and he hated suspecting that… But seeing him just push away his food like that without really eating any of it made him worry even more. He really picked ‘em, didn’t he? Giving a slight hum and smile when the other plopped down beside him, he turned his attention fully to the tv, watching the flickering images on the screen flash by him. He gave a few laughs at the show that was on, but he paid most of his attention to Bastian in case he needed anything from him or just wanted to talk. “Really? I’ll have t’see t’at for meself! I rarely see th’mate smilin’… ‘Specially recently, wit’ his dad shite an’ such… Still wanna beat th’wanker’s head in..” He mumbled that last little bit, shaking his head. The memories of Orion’s beaten face and bruises on his boy got him riled up again but he was trying to remain calm and not anxious. But with his Irish blood coursing through his veins, he was always ready to fight someone that hurt someone he cared about. “Well.. I’m fuckin’ sure y’heard how I was raised from Cy.. Orphanage.. No one really carin’ too much ‘cept maybe one person. Kinda why I turned t’drugs an’ shite when I was older, y’know? I wanted t’… Feel somet’in’… Didn’t wanna fuckin’ feel numb for th’rest of me life… But t’en Killy came along and I made a promise t’meself t’at he’d feel loved an’ cared about an’ not wanna go th’same route like me… We can all change, Seb. Trus’ me.” He gave a little nudge to the other’s shoulder, giving a playful little smile to him. “It really is.. C’mere ya gobshite.” He snorted, moving to wrap one arm around the other, pulling him in close so he could feel just how warm he was. This was something he was used to… He had always been a little cuddly when it came to people he knew and liked. He was sure he’d always pulled Orion and Cy in for hugs all the damn time when they were a bit younger.

Chuckling, the model shifted on the couch beside him, looking over at him. “Really now? Well, you should’ve said something. You can see my ass anytime you want, handsome,” he teased, winking at him. His old habits might be eating away at him again, but he knew how to have fun-- and fun was all he wanted. Fun to put aside the stress of his work as a model, the abuses hidden within the system that lurked in the background ceaselessly. Bastian could tell that Trevor’s attention was ninety percent on him, which was the way he liked it, having someone’s complete and total attention. It had been a while since he had someone wrapped around his finger, hadn’t it? The excitement of it, the thrill-- he would be lying to say he hadn’t missed it to an extent. Nowadays, he had been accustomed to fake relationships with other models to boost his own reputation and staging a breakup later on. “Huh? I’m not sure I heard about his dad, Cyrek hasn’t been around as often lately. Seems like he’s in the shitpit.” It took less pressure off him to hide his issues, the opportunity to avoid the band and gain time away from them. Don’t get him wrong; he loved being in the band, but the scrutiny from his bandmates could be as much pressure as his modeling job, unwilling to bring attention nor worry to himself. In his eyes, he could take care of himself just fine, and if he had a problem, he’d deal with it. The bleak conversation of pasts was one he tried to avoid, finding it difficult to discuss his own past. If anyone was aware of what he had been through, would they think differently of him? He’d done unspeakable things at his father’s whim, under the acknowledgement that if he didn’t, he would be the one sustaining injury. We can all change, Seb. Shifting in the other man’s arms, he lifted his chin to look up at him, blue orbs searching every inch of his face. “Trevor,” he said softly, partially intending to shut off his preaching, leaning in to press his lips against the other man’s after a pause. 

[dvstbunny]

streetperformertrevor‌:

Following quick behind him, he couldn’t stop the small wave of anxiety that crashed over him. He realized he’d never been in Bastian’s apartment before and didn’t know what to prepare to see. Was it messy like his? Probably. Spic and span? Riddled with empty bottles? What he saw when the other let him in…Shocked him. It was fairly clean, but also barren of a lot of furniture. Granted, he couldn’t say it shocked him too bad since he knew Bastian rarely ever stayed at home for longer than a few hours at a time. “Well… T’at’s definitely a good goal t’have, yeah? Y’should be proud of it.” He teased playfully, his cheeks going a slight tinge of pink. Shit, did he just really admit that? Welp… No taking it back now, right? He had to admit, despite the man being scrawny and almost like a twig, he did definitely have a nice ass. Maybe that was where all the fat and such was? “Nah, mate.. I’m good for now. Still stuffed from lunch t’be honest wit’ ya… If I eat or drink anyt’in’ else, I’m gonna r’gret it a few seconds after. Trus’ me.” He snorted. Trevor had been gaining a little more weight recently, which he was happy about. Most of it was muscle, but there was just a litte bit of fat hiding behind it. It made him feel a little more comfortable with his body. Moving to sit down on the couch, he crossed one leg over the other, getting comfy. “Shite, really? …I’ll have t’take ‘im drinkin’ all by me own self an’ see who fuckin’ drops first! I can down a whole fuckin’ bottle of whiskey an’ not feel a t’ing.” He was way too damn proud of that fact. Hearing him talk about how he thought he’d teach the kid ba habits made Trevor a little sad. “Hey, nah…. Don’t talk t’at way, I’m sure you’d be fuckin’ great wit’ ‘im.. I mean, I made some fuckin’ mistakes an’ yet Killy’s perfectly fine an’ healt’y an’ loves me..” Watching the man pull the fur coat closer to his body made him frown a little. Poor guy is probably freezing. “C’mere, mate…. Me friends don’t call me a heater for not’in’.”

“Proud of my ass? I already am, for sure, I don’t do squats at all and it’s fabulous. Why, have you been looking?” he half-joked, ever the egotistical member of the band that never shied away from a flirtatious remark when it came to himself. After all, he worked hard for how he looked, and people weren’t picked up as models for nothing. He used to have a heftier amount of muscle mass on him when he’d been recovering; too bad he’d flung it all down the toilet. To him, the significant loss felt too little still, thoughts running back and forth of purging himself for what was left of his journey from the dark side. “Suit yourself,” he said, moving to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water and returning to the couch where his bandmate was, glancing at the television. Up close and personal, the damages were exceedingly obvious, hence his thought to keep his fur coat on and close to himself. The last thing he wanted was for word to spread around the band again, tired conflict of his need to stay healthy brought back to life, sitting down on the couch beside Trevor at last when he had set the bottle down. Too bad he hadn’t secretly refilled that one with vodka. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the kid guzzle a line of shots of tequila without batting an eye. He’s a happy mess when he’s actually wasted.” Which made he and Micah a perfect match, he supposed, from the few slips of details that Orion had divulged to him. Nestling against the couch, clasping hands together atop his head, barely ruffling his black, well-kempt hair, the model watched the flickering of the television. Multitasking was a necessity in his day-to-day life; he could appear as if he were ignoring someone altogether and have successfully retained the entire conversation. “I don’t think it’s about mistakes, it’s just how I was raised,” he said with a shrug. Lack of affection had bred someone who tended to be careless of another’s emotions, insensitive and self-servient, choosing to shut out the world from proximate intimacy with him thinking it would be best for everyone. “Huh? Oh, I guess it is sort of chilly in here.”

[dvstbunny]

streetperformertrevor‌:

“Ahhh, I know y’do mate. Every fuckin’ time we celebrate somet’in’, y’end up drunk, naked as a damn jaybird on top of th’table or somet’in’.” He always found it… cute in a way when Bastian showed off like that. At least he wasn’t like himself, who ended up usually crying and clutching the bottle. Or one time, ending up passing out in a ditch with no idea where he was. That was always fun…”Oh for sure! Poor guy won’t know what hit ‘im, aye?” Trevor couldn’t remember whether or not he’d ever seen Orion drunk, or even having a single drink. Did Orion even drink at all? Fuck if he knew… When they stopped, Trevor went to go open up the passenger door, but the second he grabbed the handle, the door was yanked open by the other, making him give a dumb little smile. “Well shite, look at ya! Bein’ a gentleman.” He teased playfully, stepping out and adjusting his clothes a little. “Oh c’mon… Trus’ me, it’s not a lot… An’ fuck off, I only trus’ a few people wit’ Killarney… You’re one of ‘em, alrigh’?” Trevor’s voice was more soft, a lot more sincere when he noticed the other bowing his head and looking away. “I promise, mate… I t’ought I’d be a shite fat’er… I mean, growin’ up in th’fuckin orphanage pretty much… Gettin’ into drugs… Kids are… T’ey’re magical… Don’t know where th’fuck I’d be wit’out Killy in me life..” He moved to place a hand on the man’s back for a split second before moving it away, following him into the lobby of the apartment.

Walking them up to his apartment and unlocking the door, he let the other in. The space was relatively cold beyond moderate decorations; he had never been materialistic with his items, always too busy with his various occupations to stay home for long periods of time. When he was, he mainly drank until he passed out, and the fridge was barren currently except for perhaps scarce produce, such as a head of lettuce. Chuckling when he brought up his drunken escapades, he shut the door behind them, replying, "My goal is to make sure everyone on the tour bus has seen my ass in all its glory." Though, Cyrek had scolded him a few times for it, unstable temper reaching a fever pitch and practically flaming him in front of the group. But it wasn't as if he'd ever listened. However, his issues had been placed on the back burner for now, hidden carefully-- no drinking around the band in a way that was obvious, pushing his food around his plate until it seemed he had eaten, sporting proper attire to obscure jutting bones. "Make yourself at home. Want anything to drink? I have water... flavored water... beer for company." His gin was hidden somewhere in his bedroom, frankly. "Oh, don't worry, he's actually a heavyweight. Kid will drink you under the table, seriously. Irish or not. He's got more under his belt than Cyrek." Bastian shook his head, gesturing toward the living room and searching for his television remote. Expression carefully shadowed with his back turned, the drummer flipped on the television and found something to watch, silently considering his words. Self-esteem had been null and void for him since his youth, ripping at the seams further the older he became in the industry he'd chosen, placed under a microscope and effectively destroyed. "I think that... I might be a bad influence on him, man, I make bad choices. I'd be shit at it." He'd never been able to change, crashlanding back into poor choices time and time again. Setting the remote back down and bringing the fur coat closet to his body, he moved to bump the air conditioner up several degrees, heaving a sigh. What a long fucking day.

[dvstbunny]

streetperformertrevor‌:

“Aye… I try me best, now don’t I?” He snorted out, letting out a sigh. He knew how it was to go without a proper family… A caring mother or father, or even both. He wanted to make sure to be there for Killarney, always, and never leave him or make him ever feel he was unloved. “Ahhh, true… True… I mean, it’s understandable, y’know? Bein’ uncomfy from th’waist down..” That’s what Trevor felt most of the time. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like one night stands as much as the next guy did. Letting the other drive them, he gave a slight chuckle. “Alrigh’ alrigh’, I’ll let ya d’cide, made. Jus’ make sure he’s comfy wit’ it, y’know? It’s all his day.” He teased playfully with a smirk, leaning back against the seat of the car. Hearing him call him handsome actually made his heart skip. Shit, why did he like that so much? Bastian was in the same band as him, right? Definitely means he was off limits… Right? “I mean, I can teach ya if y’want. Not t’at hard, I suppose. ‘Least not wit’ Killarney. Boy’s a fuckin’ angel, I tell ya.” He hummed. “He’s five… Six in a few mont’s. Crazy how time flies, yeah?”

Bastian nodded as he drove down the street, bitten fingernails tapping on the steering wheel. He had nothing he could contribute, no positive personal experience to take from. Nor had he, sine, seldom stumbled across anyone that firmly redefined his definition of healthy, in terms of parenting or interpersonal relationships in general. “It’s whatever to me. I mean, I do it all the time. I don’t really care about getting naked,” he replied nonchalantly, accepting it as part of his career. His body might be malnourished underneath all the layers, like the fur coat he was sporting, but they could always Photoshop it into their ideal picture. No harm, no foul, they dished it out one way or another and no one ever had to know the state of his health. “Great, it’ll be fun. He’ll have fun. At least a hangover.” Rolling up to the Chalet and finding a place to parallel park, the model shifted the car into park, collecting his belongings and stepping out of the flashy vehicle. Opening the passenger door for the other male politely, a snort escaped him with the notion of learning and kids in the same sentence. “Oh, oh, fuck no, I don’t... uh, I don’t think I’m someone you should have around... kids. I’m really-- I’m not good with them. I kind of suck with kids.” Looking down as he said it, he shrugged, chalking it up to his poor and rather twisted upbringing. In fact, it was a miracle he hadn’t ended up completely fucked in the head as a result, raised by someone who had been a total stranger as he had later found out. Fear would sooner set in that he was teaching them bad habits. Opening the door to the lobby, he searched through the keys on the chain for his apartment key.