golden boy ,

♡♡♡

[goldenbcy]

@defensemanryder

there were only a few dive bars in bumfuck, and it was a process to figure out which ones astor was least likely to run into one of his kid's parents. sure, giving piano lessons paid the bills, and it did engage because his very heart and soul are tied to the notes- but god forbid you work with kids and also want a drink every once in awhile. astor didn't do well in stressful situations, and he was slowly learning to be proactive about avoiding them if he could help it.

so here he was, in a damn sports bar of all places. city boy in his fendi button down and fitted slacks, slurping on some shitty draft beer because they actually ran out of whiskey per the disgruntled bartender. he might huff at astor and barely say two words, but he sure was okay to swipe his card. seven months ago, astor would've started a fight with anyone who look at him like that.

maybe dad was right. maybe bumfuck, minnesota had been good for him.

blue eyes rolled nearly into the back of his head as he sipped, shaking off the thought and peeking up at the screen above his head. he'd been all but forced to get into hockey, it was the only thing the people here cared about; but he didn't really mind. it was fucking hardcore. those guys took hits lacrosse players would be uncomfortable with. it was exciting enough to stimulate him into not noticing how the time always seemed to drag.

someone woo'd! from across the bar and it caught his attention, and astor immediately recognized the face that made the sound. he felt a buzz that immediately made him stand, the 2for1 beers he got in his hand as he approached the man, probably the only famous person to crawl out of bumfuck and then decide to keep coming back. he couldn't remember the last time he was actually interested in something in front of him.

"holy shit, aren't you that ryder guy?! i just watched last season's championship game, you were sick out there! it's so cool to see a celebrity just hanging out at the local sports bar." he put the still full beer down in front of him, and did his best to grin, even though his cheeks felt stiff from not doing so in so long.

"i'm astor."

[goldenbcy]

his father had really out-done himself this time.

a failed band, and one too many frivolous charges upwards of a few hundred grand had landed him in bumfuck nowhere, minnesota, and astor mayfair couldn't have hated it more. cut off from his adoptive father's funds, had to get an actual job for the first time in his life. if he was honest, he had squandered most of his 20s on a dream of fame that he could see wasn't coming to him, at least not in the form of the rockstar he'd always dreamed of being. people seemed to like his original classical compositions- and the job he'd squared away for himself at the local music store, plus the side gig of tutoring did seem to be working rather well if he was honest. it made him enough money, and his name was slowly circulating, even if it was from bumduck nowhere, minnesota. the kids he worked with were polite, and the townsfolk had gotten used to the new 'flashy kid from the big city' well enough. his designer two pieces still garnered stares, but they didn't have the same disdain they once had. people here didn't like new, didn't like strange. astor was under the impression the locals thought of them as one and the same. he'd settled in well enough-he couldn't say with confidence that he still hated it-but his life still felt empty. still felt hollow of any excitement. every night he slept he wished for something, anything, to come along and shake it up...