Electric Angel Rock 'n' Roller

Indie semi-selective roleplay blog for Benjamin Orr of The Cars ||+18||

[19seventies]

[frozenat99]

Visit Original Link

Chirbit link: The Cars - My Bestfriend’s Girl 1978

[sheev-breezy]

[movesinstereo]

I’m back! School and work have taken over my life but I’m making time for writing again! Mutuals, let me know if you want to continue where we left off or start anew! Whatever works best. I’m just a DM away

[movesinstereo]

Was going to start replies on all accounts last night but my computer charger died. I'm not very free because of work and neuroscience classes so it's really frustrating. Sorry you guys have to wait more

[outlawiism-archived2]

reminder that it’s okay if you couldn’t manage to write anything today.     it’s okay if you tried and it didn’t go the way you wanted to.    it’s okay if you couldn’t find your muse.    it’s okay     !     don’t beat yourself up over not having time,     energy,     or even the want.     writing is a hobby,    not a job     ♡♡

[crimsonhaven]

            FEMALE MUSES ARE VALID TOO.           just a little psa to let all of you know that          if you don’t even bother replying to a female muse’s starter       or are only interested in writing with         male muses           then you honestly need to check yourself.          for muns with a multi - muse who’s female muses get ignored       ,     it’s discouraging.         female muses deserve good and awesome plots just like male muses.       female muses deserve emotional plots like male muses do.          female muses aren’t just here to fill up a void.         female muses are valid too          and it’s time for people to realise and respect that.

[19seventies]

[musicflavored-deactivated202012]

movesinstereo​   .

Upon given the new information that the rock writer’s own father happened to be in the music industry as well, the blonde musician’s brunet brows rose up into his fringe with surprise evident on the remainder of his features. “Really? That is crazy how you’ve kept it in the family, but ah…” he gave a simple shrug of one of his shoulders. “Don’t worry about the accent. You sound less like a snob than a majority of British people we’ve met. Some think I have a weird accent–how strange is that?” he let out a breathy chuckle followed by a short sniffle before taking another sip from his glass. 

“It’s what I’ve heard. They don’t take too kindly to most American bands these days and our peers have dealt with some pretty rough situations, to put it mildly,” he said with a slight grimace tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt. I mean, we recorded the album in England but didn’t perform. I’m sure that’s something you guys would write about: the fact that a bunch of strange-looking American guys worked with the producer who perfected “Bohemian Rhapsody” and looked after Queen. That in itself is worth a laugh.” 

Benjamin propped up his head with his hand beneath his chin, pale blue eyes shining with familiarity and warmth toward the woman while she jested about getting free tickets to one of their English shows and the comments on his drastic change in appearance. He snickered at the former statement, pensively running his ring-clad index finger nimbly over his lower lip, “I mean, I can always try it out. I’d be happy to help a friend out in any way I can.” the latter statement in regards to his appearance resulted in the man tugging at a blonde strand of hair that was slightly obscuring his DO NOT ENTER sign earring, which shook distractedly nearly every time he moved, and glancing toward it. “I’ve gotten a lot of people telling me I look completely different from those days and I suppose that’s true to some extent but I don’t know–I think it might just be the hair.” Of course it wasn’t true when the man appeared to have traded in his baby fat for a set of muscles nearly everywhere, a defined jawline and sharp cheekbones, but Benjamin was often unaware of how striking he had become, brushing it off as simply a result of his having blonde hair more than anything else. 

His gaze then shifted back to Millie, grinning with a hint of gleaming white teeth while studying her features. “With all due respect, I think you’re wrong. You don’t look a day over twenty-four in my honest opinion.” he rose his free hand as though making an oath. “Swear to god.”

“   Oh   well   …   shit   ,   if   that   isn’t   the   nicest   thing   anyone   has   ever   said   to   me   .   “   She   laughed   and   then   just   shook   her   head   .   She   was   actually   nearing   the   age   of   where   women   wanted   to   hear   this   from   men   .   “   You’re   too   sweet   .   “   Though   she   could   sense   his   sweetness   still   as   it   seemed   even   more   authentic   now   that   he   was   doing   something   that   meant   so   much   to   him   .   “   Well   ,   I   am   happy   for   you   to   be   able   to   do   what   you   love   to   do   and   make   it   what   you   want   it   to   .   Even   though   we   only   met   one   time   and   I   know   you   won’t   believe   this   .   You   really   did   make   an   impression   on   me   .   Not   that   I   like   keeping   up   with   it   until   you   guys   made   it   .   Especially   that   car   …   “   She   snickered   a   bit   about   it   .   “   I’m   just   happy   to   see   you   again   .   “   Saying   in   that   warm   tone   of   hers   to   him   ,   it   was   hard   not   to   notice   how   drastic   his   change   was   to   her   .   That   jaw   though   .   It   could   do   some   serious   damage   on   a   piece   of   meat   if   it   wanted   to   .   

Honestly   ,   she   enjoyed   his   company   . 

  They   had   a   connection   on   that   front   at   least   .   “   So   ,   Ben   .   Anything   else   going   on   ?   “   Leaning   forward   a   little   bit   towards   him   to   ask   her   next   question   .   “   Have   you   gotten   any   groupies   yet   ?   “   It   was   always   something   to   ask   rock   stars   that   was   more   of   a   personal   question   ,   Mills   didn’t   care   about   it   .   All   of   them   had   them   .   It   wasn’t   some   big   secret   .   Often   she’d   get   mistaken   for   a   groupie   if   she   didn’t   have   her   badge   around   her   neck   that   read   ‘   press   ‘   in   big   black   letters   .   Mills   wasn’t   exactly   scoffed   at   .   Well   ,   except   when   she   first   woke   up   and   looked   like   a   wreck   with   her   hair   in   all   different   directions   and   her   eyes   looking   heavy   and   tired   .   “   Off   the   record   though   ,      completely   .   You   have   …   haven’t   you   ?   “   Assuming   this   much   was   true   .   

[movesinstereo]

Benjamin pricked up one of his arched brows and gave her a challenging stare, “Is that sarcasm?” Although the facade would quickly shatter when he looked at her for longer than a few seconds, an amiable grin taking its place as he bashfully glanced down toward the glass in his hand. The man couldn’t help but be honest in those complements. Millie was kind and although she had been in the industry longer than he had, he was going to treat her the way he would an old friend. It felt strange, knowing that after over a decade of trying desperately to be famous, things had finally worked themselves out; albeit a bit later than expected but perhaps it was for the better. He wasn’t some young, naive kid anymore and knew enough to keep himself from being screwed over by the wrong kinds of people seeing the band’s attention and upcoming fame. Benjamin was in this thirties now, having dealt with so much to make it to where he was currently. 

Then came her next question, something he clearly hadn’t expected as was evidenced by his perplexed expression. The man was a very private and introverted person but knew better than to lie to someone he felt was worth trusting. After compressing his lips together, he let out a sigh, “To be honest with you, I have gotten quite a few offers but I turn all of them down unless I’m feeling particularly lonely.” he gave a small shrug of his broad shoulders. “Does that surprise you?”

[movesinstereo]

Me: I need to get to replies on my two blogs when I'm not overwhelmed with school and work

Also me:

Make another muse

[movesinstereo]

Your hints. Again idk if I will go through with it but....👀

[movesinstereo]

Me: I need to get to replies on my two blogs when I'm not overwhelmed with school and work

Also me:

Make another muse

[benjamin-orrgasm]

Elliot and Ben

[movesinstereo]

Summer was coming to an end, leaving Fall to steadily take its place to carry on the routine of seasonal change. The change itself was slow and a majority of leaves remained green and vibrant while a cold breeze flowed through the city streets alongside the heavy dose of rain that pounded against everything it fell upon, leaving slick reflections of lights that shown bright in a majority of the windows in each and every building down the main drag. One such reflection, when turned right side-up read in plastic red letters illuminated by white light: 

Blondie, Aug. 20 - 26 Talking Heads ,  Aug. 27 - Sep. 2 Cars, Sep. 3 - 9

If one didn’t know any better, this may have been a very vexing list to read, though to the experienced eye, the building itself was a venue set up for bands on the rise to perform in when in town. They certainly weren’t the sort of bands anyone would have expected but then again the times were ever-changing and gave way for new acts to make their own paths. Certainly there was a mystical air about the place despite being in the center of a bustling city, one couldn’t help but venture inside and see for themselves what wonders were being made by the musicians of today. Seeing how the stormy day was, it was safe to assume that it was in fact September 4th, a gloomy Monday night for most save for those who resided in this little venue. The band performing were certainly not the type that would have been popular in years prior due to their rather quirky appearances and unique musical stylings, but their album that had been released just months prior was gaining quite a substantial amount of attention, causing the group’s career to take off exponentially. And here they were in this little place, being announced by the owner of the venue:

“And now, ladies and gentlemen. All the way from Boston, The Cars!”

The group of unlikely-looking rockstars took the sage, stoic and silent. Their notoriety of being a relatively distant band without virtually any acknowledgement of the audience hadn’t quite caught on though they weren’t about to change it any time soon. They would begin with “Let the Good Times Roll” and end with “Just What I Needed” and eventually returned for two songs as an encore. The unique sounds the ensemble produced was enough to make an impact on the crowd to prove their worth which was something they were all relatively proud of though after the show, they still refused to show much emotion in regards to anyone outside of their group. The venue itself remained relatively active following the performance, many of the other occupants simply dancing to house music or hanging around with friends and/or significant others while the band sat close to the bar though not exactly together but merely in the same space, waiting out the rain and having a beer. There sat Benjamin, the bassist and one of the lead vocalists, sporting clothes far from his vest, choker and leather pants get up from the performance; a white sweatshirt with a subtle Boston Red Sox logo, the sleeves rolled up over his brawny forearms and bright red trousers with sleek brown ankle boots; rather tame by comparison but enough to make him feel rather comfortable since he was a tad too shy to communicate with fans unlike the lead and rhythm guitarists of the band, and who could blame them? Their confidence often flourished when a venue was swarming with attractive women and Ben could only look on with amused admiration. 

@greyhoundgxrl

[greyhoundgxrl]

 “I remember the summer of love,” Madeline smiled, “I was…god I was a teenager then.” That morning, Madeline had found a grey hair while washing up. The fear that she would become less valuable and end up alone had caused a wave of poisonous nostalgia to wash over her. Jesus Christ, Madeline, pull yourself together. You can live without someone. No you can’t. 

“I can show you some of the nicer spots. Some of the less touristy and less debauched areas of the city. We can go tomorrow if you’d like,” Madeline offered. “You seem like you’d really like the observatory. I know where it is, I’ve just never been. We can go experience it together for the first time.”  Maddie’s smile was soft and genuine, the first real smile she’d given Ben. A gentler side of Madeline. 

[movesinstereo]

“I wish I could’ve experienced it properly. It seemed like a riot in those days. I, uh….I couldn’t really get to experience it,” he chuckled though the envy was still fairly prevalent in his voice. The Summer of Love was something he was robbed of thanks to a little thing called the Vietnam War. All he could remember was listening to the radio every chance he had during basic training, wondering how wild the Monterey Pop Festival must have been to witness in person. He had lucked out enough to be deferred from the army under a certain technicality but seeing the movie on the festival in a movie theatre was enough to let him know he had missed out on one of the biggest musical events to happen in his lifetime. 

He wouldn’t mention why he had missed out to Madeline, in fear that he might ruin the mood, instead choosing to smile through it and hope she wouldn’t persevere the reasons behind his inability to stand out from the famous festival. Not much later did she offer for them to meet again the following day and the faux smile began to transition into one of a more genuine nature. “Well–gosh! I’d …” he lowered his voice so as to not appear overexcited. “I’d like that. You seem to be a one-of-a-kind lady, you know?” His intense blue gaze remained fixated on her own while a hand lowered to gently grasp her own, bringing it up to brazenly press his lips to her skin, gauging her reaction with that classic bedroom stare he seemed to naturally possess with little to no effort.

Now Benjamin–like most musicians on the rise during this time–was older, mature and coming from rather humble beginnings. He was an inherently introverted and shy man from the Midwest, choosing to flirt on a much more subtle scale than his predecessors when it came to rock stardom. The man was very much interested in her, but showed it in a way different than most. He wasn’t big on groupies (though that didn’t mean he would indulge from time to time), instead possessing the desire to find someone he could be with in the long run; suppose it made him a hopeless romantic in that sense. One thing was for certain: he saw something wonderful in the woman he was dancing with–something that drew him in and gave him the urge to want to get to know her better. 

[greyhoundgxrl]

When Ben said that he wasn’t able to experience the summer of love, Madeline assumed he fought in Vietnam. Without a word, Madeline pulled out Will’s lighter from her dress pocket. She showed him the inscription etched onto the front, “Hey Hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?” She lit it, then unlit it, then shoved the lighter back into her purse. “I wish I could take you back to that time. I’ve been feeling dangerously nostalgic lately.” She giggled sadly, before gazing at the city again. The last thing she said about it was Monterey Pop was perfect in every way. “I met a lot of friends there. Lovers too.”

“Well, I’ll give you my number and you can give me a call tomorrow. We’ll work out the details,” Madeline told him, planning on writing it down on a napkin later. Ben had gently taken her little hand and pressed his lips to it, staring through her with ice blue eyes. A bright blush rose on her cheeks as she looked away and giggled. For a girl that talked a big game, Madeline sure got flustered very easily.

Benjamin had once again become hard to read. Was this seduction? Was this a budding friendship? It could be that she was boozed up, or it could be that she had blurred the lines between seduction and friendship so many times before it was hard to keep track. She knew she liked Benjamin a whole lot. She also knew that this was all new to him, and that he was a bit longer in the tooth then a lot of up-and-comers. Madeline was going to stick to him like glue so she could help him figure it all out.

[movesinstereo]

Madeline’s response was minimalist compared to what the musician had been expecting. He watched as she rifled through the pockets of her dress until she retrieved a lighter, indicating the words etched into the metal and there read a phrase he found to be fairly common among the draftees and protestors. Nothing needed to be said. It was clear that she had lost someone in similar circumstances as himself and he wasn’t quite sure on how to handle it other than a nod of understanding with subtle hints of concern and pity etched into his arched brows. 

It wasn’t long until the woman had changed the subject, her voice reverting to its (perceived as) usual cheer demeanour, commenting on how much she had revered those days of the peace and love movement. A thin line of a grin stretched across Benjamin’s striking features while she reminisced of the days passed. “Hard to believe that was over a decade ago. So much has changed,” he commented softly before returning his attention back to his companion. 

She had appeared to be blushing at his romantic gesture just enough so that it was fairly evident even in the black of night on the rooftop of the famed hotel. “When should I call you? I wouldn’t want to miss out on a little adventure before sound check.” he smiled, letting her hand fall from his grasp, his gaze still deeply fixated into her own in an almost dreamlike manner. The woman may have been a groupie at first glance, but she appeared to be so much more just from what he had witnessed in the brief amount of time they spent in each other’s presence. God only knew what the future would have in store for the strange duo from opposite coastlines whose paths had fatefully crossed. 

[greyhoundgxrl]

There was not much else to say on the subject of Will. Madeline just smiled sadly as it confirm what she already was implying and what Ben had already guessed. The loss of Will was not only Rosie’s. Maddie cared for him too.

“I see it this way. I still carry it with me. I still carry that feeling, those memories. If I still have all that, it’s not over.” That was either profound or depressing or both, Madeline thought to herself. She mentioned that things and people changed and you just had to roll with the punches. If only she’d take her own advice for once. Whatever, she was getting too far into her own head. This was a rooftop party at the motherfucking Riot House. This was no time to philosophize, this was time to continue getting shit faced.

“I’m off tomorrow so you can call me any time. If I’m not there, Elaine or Johanna or Johnny or whoever else comes through the apartment will take the message for you.” His gaze was still fixed on her like she was something out of a dream or a particularly trippy movie. Madeline cast her glance downwards, fearing she’d be completey disarmed by his charms if her eyes met his. Elaine was probably watching from the sidelines ready to hit her with an “I told you so.” Damn, she hated when Elaine was right.

[movesinstereo]

It appeared that Madeline wasn’t feeling up to chatting about philosophy in the middle of a Riot House rooftop party set up to welcome one of the new up-and-coming bands of the more alternative music scene and rightfully so. Benjamin thought to himself that he ought to drink a bit more so as to be rid of the natural desire to discuss all things few and far between with those he hadn’t yet gotten to know properly. All he could do was nod along to her words in respect toward her dearly departed friend who was, unlike Benjamin, not so fortunate to get out of the army before it was too late. 

When the conversation shifted toward establishing their next meeting, his whirlpool of blue eyes crinkling into warm crescents as the excitement of getting to see the ethereal woman again bubbled in his chest. Although he couldn’t quite place the reason why, he was glad he felt drawn to her from the get-go. His grin became a toothy smile while his calm yet coy baritone voice rumbled a suave, “I’d like that.” But once it was established that she would jot down her number for him some time that night, Benjamin noticed a change in her behaviour. Madeline was avoiding eye contact, acting shy once more--probably (in Ben’s thought process at least) a result of him being a bit too forward--leaving him to compress his lips adjust a few loose strands of hair behind his ear before deciding to change the subject for her sake. “So, uh...do you still wanna dance or...” he paused, realising he wasn’t too good at small talk with someone he knew little about. “Maybe...get another drink?” God, approaching 31 years of age and still unable to make decent conversation without feeling like everything he was doing was wrong. 

[19seventies]

Photo: Greg Girard

[itsalltoobeautiful]

Continued — @movesinstereo

“Hey, of course- it did take me a second when you ran on stage but, I could never forget this face! No matter how blonde you are..” A sweet giggle fell from Whitney’s lips as she playfully pinched Ben’s cheek— it was true, he always stood out like a sore thumb to her, in a wonderful way. He was quite handsome and that crooked grin of his had always been contagious, especially when they were young adults ; even a decade later, nothing had changed. It made her chuckle, though, at how quickly he was to recognize her earlier- her youthful features hadn’t really altered much, just a more mature version of herself took the place of the bubbly brunette from Indiana. “Think I changed at all?”

As she fixed him up, clearing his eyelids of shimmery eyeshadow, Whitney simply beamed. It was truly something- once they got back into the groove of interacting with each other, it was almost like they’d never parted- even if their reunion started just minutes prior. They simply clicked and enjoyed each other’s company, and she listened to his musings with a happily open ear. “Well hey, it’s not always easy, but- you eventually get the hang of it… it doesn’t look half bad on you, honestly..” She mused, brows furrowed in concentration before the color was cleanly smudged from his skin. She noticed that sly look coming from him and grinned. “What are ya lookin’ at, blue eyes..?” It was playful, of course, but that look nearly made her blush reappear. Keep it together, Whitney…

With one more swipe of the rag for good measure, the brunette finished and watched as he got up from the seat, starting to pack up a handful of things into his bag. “That cat is a handful…but I love him dearly. He likes to steal my food sometimes..” A roll of the eyes along with a chuckle. “Good lord, I sound like a crazy cat lady!”

Her eyes then softened as he continued. “That’s really sweet, Ben- you were and still are a really good friend to me.” She said softly, a genuine smile creeping it’s way onto her lips as a dainty hand found his arm. “And as far as your projects go- of course that wouldn’t stop me from continuing to write you, I was happy to know about what was going on in your life ; it would brighten my day, really- especially when things weren’t going too well on my end.” The hand then softly fell back down to Whitney’s side and she soon followed suit to the main floor- Ben leading the way.

She allowed him to lead with a gentle grip on her wrist- it was reminiscent of when they were in their early adulthood and Ben would get excited about heading to the music shop, or wanted her to tag along for some lunch with some of his other friends ; It was always such an endearing gesture. “Oh, okay! Sure! I’d love to meet them-“ With a bright expression, Whitney was soon faced with the members of the band, and Ben’s most recent friends— she put on a big, friendly grin and waved toward the group. “Hello!”

[itsalltoobeautiful]

Getting adjusted on the not-so-comfortable bar stool, which was always interesting especially in a dress, Whitney kept her eyes on her friend and held an amused grin on her warm features— she didn’t want to miss any little quirk or new gesture that she missed from all those years apart. It was still a crazy adjustment, after all, even if the initial shock of their reunion had fizzled out the night prior. They were practically still kids when they were around each other last, so seeing Ben in his new element filled her mind with surreal emotions, along with a beam of pride ; after everything she’d been caught up with in his life, the young woman was able to face his new reality: a blossoming, soon to be famous musician. And she couldn’t be any more happy for her fellow Midwest-native pal. With a nod of understanding, Whitney listened to his explanation and replied with a generous sip of her own beer, followed by a casual shrug. “That’s fair. More than fair- I’m sure it can be hectic sometimes for you.. why not guzzle down some drinks before you have to get on the right schedule again tomorrow?”

Right away Whitney knew that the first piece of a description for Ben’s fellow band mate had been much too vague, seeing as it was more of the first thing that popped into her head than an actual guess or recollection— and she couldn’t help but laugh along when he teased about being more specific, much like the good old days when he gave her that same look for a small mix-up here and there. There’s Benny.. “I know, I know! Y’know, um..yes, okay!” A pensive finger tapped on her chin, but it only took a few moments before the bassist confirmed who the correct tall subject was. She had met two other very tall friends of his the night before, and was glad that she’d guessed right out of the fear of embarrassing herself a bit— but she knew it wasn’t a big deal. “That’s really cool, actually- I’m not surprised that that’s his thing, even from the short we met yesterday. But really? Leather undertones..? Does that mean what I think it means…?” She then gave him an inquisitive look, one brow arching up to the ends of her dark fringe. Now it was her turn to tease him back, ending with a playful nudge to his arm and a sarcastic little laugh. “Obviously it means you’re perverted degenerates.. geez, Benny, pump the breaks on all that leather you guys are wearing..”

The level of playful concern grew on Whitney’s face as she watched Benjamin throw back his liquor like it was nothing, and she wondered if this was what he did after any other show or if he was just very excited to be off stage and get intoxicated as soon as possible. A bout of comfortable silence fell between them as her own beer was nearing half full now, and soon he seemed to be done with his second glass of whiskey on the rocks before he spoke up once again, this time with a surprisingly enthusiastic tone— it only made her smile again, so no harm done of course. Another laugh fell from her alcohol-stained lips as he spoke yet again about the ill feelings pertaining to his stage clothes, which she absolutely did not mind.

“Silly- it is a positive memory, even if you are in sweaty stage attire.. this shirt is pretty cool,” She said sweetly, gesturing toward his sailor-esque choice of a shirt— it was kind of him to be so open and welcoming with her in this element of his, and she appreciated how willing he was to bring her into it. The last thing she wanted to do was be in the way of the others and him of course, but he seemed quite casual and insistent, so she decided to spend as much time with him as she could at the venue. “But yeah, I’ll come with ya if that’s alright! Lead the way!”

[movesinstereo]

Benjamin began to loosely scratch at the corner of his mouth with a thoughtful grin settling into his striking features, “Yeah, it’s getting to be pretty strange to adjust to so I figured: May as well have fun and sleep the possible hangover off the next day.” he let loose a breathy chuckle, glancing in her general direction so as to briefly check whether it was a valid opinion to have--some way of hoping it was in line with her approval like the good old days. He didn’t want her to change and had hoped that if she truly had in the past decade and some odd years, it was for the better rather than regressing like their old friends had back in Ohio; he loved them dearly but had he been in their positions, he would have been incredibly depressed. Stuck at a dead-end job with a woman he fell out of love with and kids he believed he was obligated to have; that life isn’t meant for anyone if they truly wish to be happy. All he wanted was to know that San Francisco had helped Whitney more than harmed. 

In response to the discussion of his band’s first album’s rejected original cover, he gave her a smirk upon the implications of the leather theme being related to something of a more sensual nature, something which made him quickly break character when she decided to call him and his band a group of “perverted degenerates”, his head tilting back as he released a guffaw in his baritone voice. “Yeah--that’s us alright. The strangest-looking perverts to ever grace the music charts!”  

Her compliment on his stage attire did not go unnoticed for once he gazed downward to remember just what he had been wearing, a shrug of his broad shoulders would be his initial reply, followed by the humble comment of, “Oh this? It’s just something silly I found in a shop when looking for something fun to wear that fit David’s criteria for our image. You should see the other stuff I wear.” he pauses to wet his lips and take another sip from his fresh glass. “I have this shirt that is completely split open along the side here,” he gestured toward his torso, tracing his finger down the seam of his current shirt. “But it’s kept together with strings tied together of all things! It looks ridiculous but I like it. Very breathable.” he nodded loosely, the alcohol truly began to settle in his bloodstream as that comforting, fuzzy feeling resulted in his typical half-lidded gaze becoming less emotive than before; eyes failing to widen as much as usual until he remembered their conversation and moved to carry on to changing backstage so as to not give her the lasting memory of an old friend in stage clothes soaked in sweat and reeking of a gymnasium locker room. “Alright, enough chit-chat about me, just tell me more about you and what you’re doing these days.” he began, gesturing in the form of a nod of his head toward the backstage entrance before approaching that area himself, figuring that the conversation had given his band mates enough time to change their clothes and give them some privacy to continue their discussion. 

Once backstage, Benjamin had chosen to walk ahead of her so as to avoid any possible form of embarrassment between her and his colleagues and his suspicion was right, for the remaining member of the band, Elliot, had just finished buttoning up and tucking in his shirt prior to Whitney’s arrival. Since reaction time was slim, all the lead guitarist could do was gawk in their general direction before deciding to usher himself out of the room, a limp yet awkward wave thrown in her general direction accompanied by a loose greeting spoken through a cracked voice on his way through the door. The blonde softly smiled as he watched the band’s youngest member leave the room, “Hard to believe he’s just a kid in the grand scheme of things.” his blue gaze returned to her. “Anyway--so are you still dating that guy? My memory’s a bit fuzzy on those letters from the last few months...” And as his voice trailed off, just like the night before, he was removing his shirt and dabbing a towel against himself in an attempt to freshen up, exposing a lean yet defined muscular build that had matured over time and plenty of workout sessions though he hadn’t quite noticed how such an appearance might strike Whitney--especially since they had gone swimming together many times over the summer back in the 60′s so why would now be any different? They were older adults and could handle things much better...or so he thought. The liquor was also making his decisions a bit more rash, but that wasn’t an excuse for the night before.

[sheev-breezy]

[movesinstereo]

Last week I couldn't do replies because the apartment building's wifi was down. This week I'm working 45 hours 😬 I'm still here. Just super busy !