just like apple pie

jay cook. 19. bassist for dead until dark.

[lysandrs]

cashsommer:

      cash wished there was some sort of manual that could tell him what cheat code he needed to deal with jay. a decent control-alt-delete for the fuck up’s and the byproducts that came with it, but there was no quick fix that existed for something like this, which is why he moved his hand away, stepping back again with a palpable awkwardness. cash hadn’t seen his father in twenty-five years and hadn’t spoken to him for sixteen. jay was trying, which was more than cash could confidently say he had done up until the man’s death. his son’s foot in the door, no matter how aloof it could be at times was miles ahead of what he could’ve expected from his own experiences. learning to balance each other took time- he tried to understand that. “ not just fine, kid. you’ll do great. and she’s going to be over the moon- they all are. i’m sure you could get up there and not hit a single note right and they’d still be proud to death of you. ”

cash doubted that she’d extended her well wishes onto him. maybe she was just a far better person than he was after all these years. he’d always had trouble letting go. he’d loved her once, hated her too after he left. now cash did his best to have a neutral positivity, especially in regards to her husband. he swallowed back any bitterness on his tongue. “ you know, we can fly them all out if you like. you could show them around, do the whole LA thing, ” he offered. he didn’t want to share his time with jay, but he knew how much he missed them and his life back home. “ maybe even disneyland or whatever. ”

part of him wanted nothing more than to agree. after all, it would be nice to have everyone here with him in la, even if for just a week. and yet, he knew--- that was the wrong answer. 

“disneyland?“ he wrinkled his nose, “look, if they want to meet mickey mouse, they can go to disney world. i love them, but i’m 19 now. i don’t want to have to fly out my mom when things get hard.“

he looked down, “not that things are hard here. it’s just- different.”

he thought about it for a second, his brows furrowed together in thought. after a moment, he  scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the floor, “mom has always been like that, you know.“

“even when i just started taking lessons, she’d clap even when i got all the notes wrong. as long as i tried my best.“

“look, i know this is just like a piano recital or- like- an impromptu garage band gig or even a football game. i’m not worried about messing up and having people not like me. it’s just-“ he wrestled with his own thoughts, before finally managing, “it’s just that- you were never there for those things.”

“and suddenly, trying my best doesn’t feel good enough.“

[lydiahqs]

❝ i stayed up until 3am last night writing these lyrics, but looking at them now— ❞ lydia pauses to scroll through her notes app. ❝ here, i rhymed you with you. ugh, her mind. ❞

[lysandrs]

jay looked over and nodded, before shrugging, “it’s called identical rhyme and it’s a very valid thing to do.“

[siwonhq]

closed / @jayafterdark

simon spends the first thirty minutes of the event completely sober as he weaves through the crowd of celebrities milling around the auditorium, striking up light conversation with fellow artists as he finds his way to his seat. he’s in the middle of talking to a fellow producer when they cross paths with a young, blond man, and instead of just maneuvering around him like simon thought they might, he’s surprised when his friend stops to greet the person with a broad smile. “simon, this was who i was talking about when you asked me about the bassists i knew,” his friend tells him, and after briefly introducing the both to each other, he claps simon on the back and leaves. ❝ hey, nice to meet you. ❞ he says, struck by how young the bassist is.

[lysandrs]

“oh hi,“ jay extended a hand to shake, “-- simon?”

it was a tentative ending and jay grinned wider, sheepish. he continued on, “it’s nice to meet you too?“

he was momentarily distracted by the hubbub going on. there was a loud noise somewhere to their left, someone dropping something, and jay grimaced. “there’s a lot going on isn’t there? i don’t really know how someone can keep track of it all.”

[lysandrs]

cashsommer:

      cash felt baited and very nearly bit back. but he was the adult, he reminded himself of that fact four times over before it sunk in and the hot-headed response dissolved on his tongue. jay was young, a little bit mad and prone to a quick jab when he felt defensive. in that regard he couldn’t have been more like his father at his age if he tried. “ i would never replace you. but it’s my job to make sure that you’re okay and if being up there tonight is going to make you not okay, i want to pull the plug. there’ll be other shows. ” his voice tried to soothe, but he wasn’t sure he was a natural at this.

jay looked down and cash took a step closer, resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. his eyes piercing regardless of whether jay would meet them or not. “ then fuck em. ” he responded bluntly. “ we stumble and make mistakes, sometimes he hit the wrong strings, sometimes i sing out of tune or play the wrong chord, or slip on stage. some people might be assholes if you fuck up, i’m sure there were asshole’s when you missed a play on the field but it doesn’t make ‘em right and it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy yourself up there.”

jay cast his eyes down, “i know you wouldn’t.”

and he did-- he knew cash never had any malintent when he spoke, that sometimes he didn’t give cash the tolerance he gave anyone else. however, it was hard to stop that knee-jerk reaction he had to virtually anything cash did. 

“and i’m okay. i’m going to be fine. i really am,“ he shifted, uncomfortable with cash’s sudden closeness. whatever waves of reassurance that cash gave off seemed unable to pass the hunch of jay’s shoulders. instead of moving closer, he offered cash an awkward smile, “and you know me-- look, i don’t have a problem making mistakes or dealing with assholes. i do it all the time.“

there was a moment of silence as he struggled to find what to say. 

“mom and-- everyone will be watching at home,“ he settled on finally, “i just want everyone to be proud. she called a couple hours ago, wanted to make sure everything was alright.“

“she’s really excited. wished you luck too. ”

[lysandrs]

ancned:

      “ who gives a shit anyway? ” call him a bit TOO MUCH old school or — whatever — but he places too much on INDIVIDUALITY. perhaps not necessarily relatable, but honest is good, important. even under ANONED’s blindfold, alex feels honest, even if he is lying by omission. “ play for yourself. ”

     “ — anyway, you should know fearless doesn’t mean emotionless. BRAVERY and FEAR aren’t mutually exclusive. all that matters is that you jump in the end. ” he sounds TOO MUCH like kayla now, and he abruptly stops talking, shrugging and turning to tuck hands into his pocket.

“you sure have a lot to say for someone who is just here to enjoy the show,“ jay glanced at the door, “but i don’t know if your words or wisdom will have enough time to work their magic.”

back home, when music was little more than a hobby and he never dreamed of it being anything more, being honest onstage was easy. you never had to think about who would be watching, who you would be letting down.

“look, i’ll be late if i don’t head out,” he paused and began to head out, before looking at alex again, “i mean, you seem cool. if you want, you can- come with? unless you’re busy or anything. it’d be nice to talk to someone not in the band for a minute.”

[lysandrs]

armaqeddons:

*                JAY .               /               INTERACTIONS               !

          lifting the wine glass to put it at her lips, jay’s words made her brows raise. she then took a gulp, and scrunched up her nose.   “   you   ?   nervous   ?   ”   whereas admissions such as these usually meant nothing to her, ruby believed that this was perhaps a way to dig deeper. learn more about the surprisingly mysterious blond.   “   you’ve performed before, right   ?   it’s no different from that. from that stage you can barely see any faces in the crowd anyway. it’s just a sea of people, a crowd, performances such as these are not personal. it’s easy to pretend there’s no one there.   ”

“what would you know about that?“ he smirked at her, but it was empty. there was a worriedness written in the lines of his face that he couldn’t quite shake, “i’ve never seen you perform live.”

“but it’s not about that anyways. i don’t care about what the audience thinks,“ he regretted even admitting that much. he crossed his arms, “but there’s still expectations. it would be-“

choosing his words carefully, he continued with a stiff jaw, “unfortunate if i couldn’t live up to them. i just want everything to go- alright.”

[lysandrs]

ancned:

     “ haven’t EXACTLY been back page news, have you? ” says alex not unkindly, friendly smile flitting across his face. it’s true, though ; jay cook’s arrival to DEAD AFTER DARK hasn’t exactly gone incognito by any definition. “ but reall, i’ve heard it’s good. nerves keep you humble, relatable. haven’t you HEARD? the age of emotionless, macho men is OVER. ”

     there’s an almost imperceptible glance down at the offered hand, before he reaches out for it, a firm shake given ( a HANDSHAKE can leave quite the impression ). “ alex — nothing special to the name. just here to enjoy the SHOW. ”

“from backstage?“ jay raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. he rubbed the back of his neck, before grimacing, “oh- that.”

he looked around, before tentatively continuing, a smile on his face, “who cares about being relatable? haven’t you ever seen the expendables? the vulnerable action hero is over.“

“besides, people want their rockstars to be fearless. you can see the worry all over their voices and their-“ he mimed playing the bass, “strings.“

[lysandrs]

churchgambit:

     “ you should’ve smoked up before coming to this kind of thing,” church responded, knowingly unhelpful. “ calms you down from all that, blah blah blah, up here, ” he tapped his fingers to his own temple before looking the kid over. “ you scared your gonna fuck up? or is this all a little too LA for you? ”

jay laughed, shrugging, “look, you’re probably right.”

“and it’s not that- i’m going to fuck up and it’s always going to be to too LA for me. it’s just, you know, one of those things you have to work out on your own to really be at peace with.“

[lysandrs]

kavn:

KAYN TUGGED AT THE HEM of his uncomfortably tailored suit, the cuffs of which chose to rise up his arms without much effort on his part. For Dior, it sure was vexing. Exhaling heavily through his nose in agitation, flaring his nostrils in the process, he eyed the milling crowd with distaste before focusing on the male before him once again. His discomfort was entirely understandable as far as The Disenchanted’s frontman was concerned, but he hoped to ease it some with his offer. Holding an unlit blunt between two finely manicured fingertips, he flicked his gaze to his companions and inclined a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. ❝This’ll help you relax… wanna vanish for twenty into the bathroom?❞

“oh wow,“ jay surveyed the proffered joint with raised eyebrows, before shrugging apologetically at kayn, “probably not going to take you up on your offer, but thanks.”

“i think it’s too late now and i wouldn’t want it to... kick in at the wrong time,” after a moment, he took a deep breath, “is this how you always relax?“

[lysandrs]

jcdehq:

“don’t take this the wrong way but….” jade sighed, thinking of her own upcoming performance, “the majority of them aren’t going to be watching you, they’re gonna be watching whoever is at the mic. i’m in the same boat. just play the music and don’t think about the audience. the things aren’t meant to be stressful, you know.”

“if it were the audience i cared about, then it would be a lot easier,” there was a bittersweet tinge to his voice as he smirked, “everyone is either bored out of their mind or too drunk to care.”

he leaned in closer to her, before rocking back on his heels, “but if you’re not stressing out, then what are you supposed to be doing?”

[lysandrs]

mrgraul:

“ you’re sounding a bit like a crybaby to me. ” the older male stated, as his fingers played with the condensation of the glass that had been given to him “ just drink a little something and you’ll be fine. it’s not like you’re the vocalist, that would be really nerve wrecking. ”

“you’re right,“ jay’s lips were thin as he steeled his jaw, “i should just fucking suck it up.”

he was holding a glass from earlier as well, but it had remained untouched since he had gotten ahold of it. he looked down, contemplated taking a sip, before thinking better of it. 

“you’ve been around for a bit, haven’t you? didn’t you ever get nervous?“

[lysandrs]

pixiieisms:

    “ making what all about you? the amas? because, no offense, but i sincerely doubt any one person can steal the spotlight with so much talent both nominated and performing tonight, so no worries there! ” she’s trying her best to be reassuring and probably missing the mark. 

    “ seriously, don’t stress about it too much. the lights are turned up so bright at these things, it’s basically like playing to no audience. that’s not so scary, is it? just you and your instrument and your band. that’s all. ”

“you’re completely right. i’m- look, i know it’s not about me. i know i’m not actually going to steal the show. i don’t even want to. even in the band, i’m no one. and i don’t mind really. i just-”

“sometimes, it’s the opinions of the people onstage with you that you worry about the most,“ he huffed out a breath in exasperation, “ugh- it’s just a song. i don’t know why i’m stressed out about it.“

glancing back at the girl, he grimaced, “i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t be putting this on you.”

[lysandrs]

ancned:

     alex has found refuge in the bathroom, cold water running soothingly over his hands. it’s NOTHING, he tells himself ; no one has any reason to believe he is anyone but alex freitas — his story is AIR TIGHT ( pretty much ),:a plus one, a choreographer, a nobody — alex always HAS been at disappearing in crowds.

     he should keep to his own business, remain quiet and FORGETTABLE but he can’t help but pipe up, “ —- sounds like stage fright to me, ” he says, “ but that can be good ; sometimes it’s the COCKY ones that fall to pieces. ”

“-- you’re probably right,“ jay looked down, slumping his shoulders, “i just, sometimes, i have to tell myself that i’m not afraid in order to be brave.”

“it’s dumb, i know,“ he laughed weakly, “before you came in i was giving myself a pep talk in the mirror. visualizing success. all that stupid stuff.“

he made eye contact with the other person and shrugged. he extended a hand, “i’m jay. and you are?“

[lysandrs]

cashsommer:

        cash had been twenty years old once, had only moved out to losangeles a month prior on the promise of a label that he was doing the best thing for his career. he’d never worn a suit outside of his court cases and then he was expected to get on stage and know what the hell to do. his first ever award show and he’d played mr. brightside for the world to see. he’d expected to be terrified when the lights came up, but the fear hadn’t come. only anticipation. he didn’t see that eagerness on his son’s face and all over again he noted that maybe this hadn’t been his best decision. “ i know that it’s a lot. and it came around sooner than any of us thought, ” cash wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready. in all honesty, he was sure the day was coming that jay would admit that he didn’t want any of this and would pack his bags back to his mother. even if he did, cash couldn’t help but be proud. of everything he’d done since he got here, of everything that he’d done back home. he just wanted more time before jay got the nerve to go. “ jay, if you want out, please tell me now and i will make a call to get a sub in. you don’t have to prove anything tonight. ”

“so what? you’d just replace me?“ jay said, almost too quickly. he clutched the bass guitar closer to his chest, balling his hands into fists as his side. it was a rush of temper, but he stifled it before it could blossom to anything at all. 

“sorry,” he mumbled, “that’s not- what i meant.“

but just what did he mean?  why was he so nervous? he had asked this question to himself a couple times already, but even in his own mind the answer wasn’t forthcoming. he could feel the lump of the back of his throat grow still. he ground his teeth together. the prospect of messing up was daunting, the idea that all those eyes (read: the few gazes that dared to stray away from cash) would be on him was nervewracking, but the thing that terrified him the most was what would happen if he let cash down.

and he was already doing just that.  

he looked down, not daring to meet cash’s eyes, “i don’t want out. i want to be here. i want to perform. i just- what if i’m not up to par with what they’re expecting?”

[lysandrs]

“i hate that this is going to sound like i’m making this about me-“ jay bit his lower lip, looking around at all the people around him, “but i just-”

“it’s not even stage fright,” he elaborated tentatively, “it’s just that i’ve never even been to one of these before. and now i have to be on that stage?“

[lysandrs]

trcvls:

travis’s phone buzzed, the little chime going off twice in a row. “huh,” he said before reading the second text. a smirk tugged up the corner of his lips, one eyebrow raised. “oh, like i’m the only person here who runs without a shirt on. it’s like seven thousand degrees out – like i’m pretty sure it’s not even this hot in the deepest layer of hell,” he said as a greeting.

“you ready?” he asked, making sure he had his car keys and locking the doors. this wasn’t their first time running together, but it was the first time they’d been on this particular trail and it could be pretty trying. travis was sure jay could handle it – from the little they’d learned about each other, one of the definites was that they shared equal affinity for this particular exercise.

“you’re not running yet,“ jay commented placidly, the hint of a smile in his voice, “and it’s hot, but you’re just standing there.”

“oh come on, you’re like what-- you’re an old man in comparison to me. of course, i’m ready. the real question is are you?” he double-checked his phone before sliding it away. 

“how have you been?”

[trcvls]

travis knew runyon canyon was one of the highest populated trails to run in l.a., but it was one of his favorites. he was sat on the back bumper of his rental car waiting for jay, shirt already thrown into the trunk ( it was already shaping up to be one of the hottest days of the year and it wasn’t even officially summer ). people were starting to stare at him – he wasn’t sure if it was because he’d just been sitting there for a while or if it was because it was him – and he was getting antsy. he pulled out his phone and sent jay a text – wya dude i think i’m starting to creep people out.      @jayafterdark​

[lysandrs]

his phone buzzed and, glancing down, he read out the message with a hint of a smile over his lips. even though he was still trapped in LA (not literally, of course, that would be insane), when he was out running, he could trick himself into thinking he was anywhere else. 

he had promised travis (last name unknown... or forgotten, jay didn’t know which) that he would be at runyon canyon today. he hadn’t quite tried out the popular trail yet, but travis swore by it. glancing up, he quickly located the back of travis’ car, the man he was looking for, still looking down at his phone. 

jay texted back as he walked --- probably bc you’re shirtless and sweaty and you haven’t even started running yet. -- and then, after a moment adding --- look up. i’m here.