Let's Make STEAM : Chapter 4 ♪ Formal Fridays
link to masterpost
summary — Guidance is given, boundaries are set. Not everyone is happy about that. a/n ; “____” Is used in place of y/n, I try not to use it but the deadpanning of your name was necessary for the moments. Also, “cats” is slang for “friends”
I didn't beta read as much this chapter forgive me if any errors come up!
DISCLAIMER - I am not trying to preach to anyone during this chapter or any part of the story with what the characters say or do. I am only attempting to flesh out the world in a realistic way. This story’s plot has parts that are emblematic to real experiences (and the actions of the elite) and I am just now beginning to lay the story beats down. Nothing more, nothing less.
Enjoy!
2 WEEKS AND 6 DAYS UNTIL SHOWCASE
7:56 AM
You saw a wonderful sunrise this morning, had went back to sleep, and woke up almost two hours later.
Just like you suspected, your very public meeting with Lex Luthor yesterday traveled through the city. By the next morning, you had received twelve calls from Earl alone, and at least two from everyone else. You even got calls from some old project managers from gigs in the past.
“Hey, I know we haven’t talked in a while but I heard…”
“A while” is a massive understatement. Try two decades. You couldn’t even remember this man’s name.
“Whaddup! Heard you were shacking it up with Lex Luthor! What’s it like and will he be able to attend an event for…”
“Shacking it up” made you grimace. You knew word would spread, but rumors? Your expectations were too pure for the backbone of Metropolis. Not to mention, the entitlement? What is it with people and expecting you to provide for them?? First Lex Luthor, now idiots on your cellular device?
“____. I know what’s being said about you can’t be true, right? You’re not having… relations with that man right?”
This one was from Earl. You couldn’t believe a man who’s known you for two decades would actually believe you were sleeping with his personal devil. You would never! You hardly wanted to entertain the thought.
You… and Lex Luthor romantically? Your names didn’t even sound right together. You couldn’t think about it for too long without getting uncomfortable at the thought.
“So… do we all need to sell our souls now? Mine’s already gone so let me know if I have to move to hell soon.”
Trent.
“I don’t believe you’re having sex, but those pictures of you is some damning evidence… I’m curious, call me back…”
You didn’t know Isa—usually the voice of reason—could have such a nosey side.
Side note, there are pictures?!
You could only imagine the conversations you were about to have in the next three hours. You might as well throw out the whole rehearsal, nobody would’ve wanted to play anyway. Who wants to play some boring Latin jazz when they could be all up in your business. Like, literal business. That’s all the meeting was, business!
You eventually gave up on listening to your voicemails as to stop yourself from having a fit. You needed a clear head in this moment. You have nothing to defend, it was a simple business meeting.
However, those pictures of you both mid laugh were going to be a hard hill to climb in discussions… To their credit, you really did look like you were enjoying each other on a date. You knew that wasn’t the case though, you both are in a budding friendship, nothing more.
It’s not weird to have meetings with a client OR friend for that matter!
You tried to console yourself from the inside.
You could wholeheartedly understand where they were coming from. You aren’t dim, you knew how this looked. You were completely embarrassed at the beginning for this reason. It was in your best interest to get into groove after he pointed out your discontent.
And besides, if you were being honest, you were genuinely enjoying yourself out there.
It wasn’t often you made new friends, and you at the very least appreciated every new connection. And as you’re sure some nosy people around you heard, you kinda had to.
“I want you to stop performing.”
Those words sat on your heart like a weight now with all the bad press. After next Friday, you had one more meeting with Lex. You hoped your weightless progress hadn’t been stripped from you. You quite enjoyed feeling normal on a Friday.
9:48 AM
You walked into the familiar coffee shop, hauling your heavy limbs to the register. Luckily, you’d just missed the morning rush. You were the only one in the shop.
Brianna, in a opposite fashion to your own, hopped to meet you with a pep in her step. You were glad she was having a good day. “Hey you! What can I do for ya’ today?”
“I’ll need three dozen donuts again and any alcohol you have.”
Brianna gave you a look. “It’s 9 PM somewhere right?”
You gave her a deadpan.
“What’s the matter?” She inquired, looking concerned.
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard. I went out with Lex Luthor on a business meeting yesterday and I am going to need to convince the entire band that I am not “shacking up” with him.” You massage your temples.
Brianna looks unperturbed, shrugging. “Sounds rough but if I’m being honest I’m not understanding why everyone cares so much. You’re getting that bag and sometimes that requires some extra elbow grease.”
You could just hug this girl. “Thank you! See, it’s nice to talk to someone of sound mind!”
And innocence, you theorized, she is 17 after all.
“Besides, I would get with him too. He tips well.”
You make a face. “What do you mean tips?”
She gasped. “Right! I didn’t tell you. But like right after, like the DAY after you told me you were working with him he came in the store! I was so surprised. Apparently he stopped by because he heard great things and when he tasted a donut he tipped like.. 100 bucks! It was sooo cool!”
Your eyebrows raised in surprise. What an interesting coincidence. “How funny,” you say offhandedly.
“I know right! Like what are the chances?!” Brianna was ecstatic.
You exhaled like you were laughing, shaking your tired shoulders. “Right, what are the chances.”
You supposed you shouldn’t worry, what was there to worry about. But something about Lex showing up—or touching as he would say, yuck—at your niche little coffee shop frightened a small part of you.
You were happy to work with Lex, you knew where you stood and how to out maneuver any attempts he could make to buy what you were selling. But was Dough’s Holes exempt? Were any of the almost 100% of local, family owned businesses exempt before LuthorCorp?
You could suddenly understand Earl’s point of view with more clarity.
“But yeah, you said three dozen?” Brianna questioned, breaking you out of your spiral.
“Yeah! And no alcohol, I was joking. Water is just fine.”
“Gotcha!”
You took a deep breath, finding some spot to sit and wait. You shook your head, trying to lose some of the weight.
—
11:00 AM
Everyone was there 15 minutes early, you didn’t start until 11.
On top of that, nobody brought their instruments.
You were in for it.
“Sooo, it’s 11 now! Spill.” Someone said.
Lex smiled to himself, watching from his LuthorCorp desk. He knew breaking into your cameras was necessary, but never would he have considered it to be fun. After all, you’re hardly ever in the studio by yourself. He’d have to place cameras in your piece-of-shit, tiny apartment soon.
The thought of him watching you alone, showering—
Thoughts for later, thoughts for later. He reminded himself. Can’t risk an erection with a meeting in five minutes, oh how you tortured him.
He rested his head on his hand, arm standing on the desk. He was having a time watching you talk about him, trying to justify your date with him yesterday. He liked to make you think you were in control of the situation, you suggested “triple b” after all. It’s not his fault he required you to act like a human in all situations.
“I want you to stop performing.”
He leaned into his hand. You are so cute. He could watch this for hours. He wished he could bottle it and immerse himself in it.
Of course, your “family” would be skeptical.
“Family…” he recalled out loud.
Your slip up gave him insight, a sudden aha moment. To his annoyance, he needed to pivot his plans. Friendships are easy, fickle. But family? To the point of a freudian slip?? An unconscious heartfelt acknowledgement of peons that don’t warrant your attention???
How could he have not seen that? He’s been following you for a year.
Ever more reason for the cameras in their apartment.
Clearly, thanks to this stupid group, he wouldn’t just have to enchant you, he’d also need to break them.
With a smile, he had another moment of insight looking at the concern pouring out of your “family”.
It’s time for another test.
—
1:30 PM
You were in the final stretch.
“I just don’t understand why he would need updates every week?” Sonny had a hand on his temples.
If you were being honest, you didn’t understand either.
“Yeah!” Delano yelled from across the room. “And why only with you? A little predatory idnit?”
Your face contorted. “Ehhh, “predatory” is a very… negative word and I wouldn’t say that.”
“Fuck that. I say that rat bastard’s making moves.” Via scoffed.
“I-I,” Nicole stuttered. “I just don’t like this at all! Uppity folks they-they just… they move differently from the rest of us! And now one’s enveloped you in it’s circle!”
You turned your head. “Listen, Lex is a lot of things—”
“FIRST NAME BASIS?!” Everyone exclaimed.
You sighed. “Yes. As I was saying, he is a lot of things but he is not some type of mythical monster. He can actually be quite funny.” You didn’t catch yourself smiling in reminisce.
“Don’t tell me you think you’re actually entertaining a friendship with this man,” Julius sighed.
“Fine, then I won’t tell you.” You replied sassily.
Everyone gasped.
You didn’t understand this the more you went along with it. Had the last 3 and a half hours not told them this enough? You felt like you were going in circles.
“I’m going to be honest with you all, I don’t think it’s bad to have friends in high places.” You remarked.
Everyone gasped again, almost like what you said was this massive hot take.
“I agree with you, but Luthor’s no friend, dawg. He seem shady as fuck, I’m not gon’ lie to you.” De’von frowned, acting the most sincere you’d ever seen him be.
You sighed for what felt like the millionth time. It was time to wrap this up.
“My friends, I will agree to disagree on your concerns. At this moment, my friendship with Lex is not a problem. So far, he has shown himself to be kind and even considerate, believe it or not. If—and I mean if—he becomes a problem, then by all means, save me, tell me I told you so while I get a restraining order or something, I don’t care.
“But for the moment, this is good. Dare I say, I enjoy this man’s company and on top of that our friendship possibly brings more gigs our way? Win-win!”
“Holy monologue,” Lee muttered.
That’s how you knew your words went through one ear and out the other, not even a lick of processing.
Why do I even try?
“Fine,” Oseye conceded. “We still love you, we just wish the best for you, okay?”
You smile. “I know that, it’s why I’m not mad. I know this all comes from wanting to protect me. But I assure you all, I can take care of myself.”
Everyone collectively smiled, deciding to shrug.
“I guess we can’t be too mad at you making friends,” Isa giggled.
“Yeah! And we’ll need our pianist this Friday!” Petey pointed out, excited.
You laugh. “I haven’t forgotten about Formal Friday.”
“And that man isn’t coming right? You both don’t plan on having a “meeting”.” Dayna enunciated “meeting” with air quotes.
You shake your head. “Nope!”
You didn’t notice but Earl didn’t talk the entire time.
2 WEEKS AND 4 DAYS UNTIL SHOWCASE
7:46 PM
Practice was over 16 minutes ago. You always were the last to leave, it was your studio after all. Sometimes you’d get stragglers who wanted to talk or invite you to ice cream socials. Today was neither of those days.
Today was a day you’d call an “Old Man Chat” day. It was characterized by Earl taking the longest to pack up—almost on purpose…— and be the last person in the studio with you. And so far, with Nicole having left just a minute ago, it would seem today was checking off all the boxes.
You were in for it, again.
You sighed, putting the cover over your old wooden piano. You could feel his gaze in your back.
You supposed you were due this talk. He hadn’t spoken all that much in the days after the band’s “come to jesus” talk. Any real thoughts he could have for you would have to wait until he was ready to give them
“Hey.”
—which you supposed was now.
“Hello,” you nervously responded, facing him.
He scoffed. “Don’t give me that. You knew this was coming.”
You smile awkwardly.
He picks up his trombone case and music book. “You know the drill, walk with me.”
You pick up your bag and walk out the door with him, locking the studio before starting the trek back to his home.
“I’m gonna start this off by saying I’m not going to scold you or anything.”
“Thank goodness,” you take a sigh of relief.
He snickers a little before returning to sincerity. “I want you to know that I care about you deeply. Hopefully our 22 years of friendship displays that enough.”
In your 22 years you also found out that Earl took a long time to get to the point.
“But I cannot stress enough how you should not continue your friendship with that man, at least not after the gig.” He frowns.
You frown in return, stopping at a crosswalk awaiting a turn. You glance at the cars driving by.
“He’s torn up communities, _____. You were too focused on surviving to see it, but he’s changed so much in this city.” He looked somber in reminisce.
You weren’t even going to pretend to say you understood.
The crosswalk turned. “Hold an old man’s hand to cross the street would ya’?” He smiles at you.
You smile in turn, taking his hand and taking careful steps.
“As I was saying, he’s bad news. They all are. Changing the world and framing it as jobs that go back into the community.
“I mean I’ve had cats that were forced to move out of their homes. Shops that had to pick up and move to whole other states.”
You got to the end of the crosswalk but he didn’t let go of your hand.
You could notice he was getting teary.
“It was damn travesty.”
“But it wasn’t all LuthorCorp was it?” You asked, not meaning to mention out loud.
“No, but it was all of them. Lord Brothers or other one note assholes driving prices, driving people like us out.”
A single tear fell from his face.
“I don’t want you to get driven out either,” he sniffed, “—or in for that matter.”
You laughed at that but you soon realized he wasn’t trying to make an innuendo.
“But Earl, so far he’s been good. I hear you, I do, but maybe this could be a different case?” You test the waters.
Earl looks at you sincerely. “You’re 33, you’ve had experience with liars in the past right? This Luthor is no different.
“I don’t know what that man wants with you, but it’s nothing good.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
You processed his words for a moment.
You wanted to argue, hope that everything wasn’t too good to be true. Maybe you were a little too old for naivety. “Yes, I do. But you must also know that connections are not so easy to sever before a gig.”
He nodded his head. “Of course! Do it for the money right now, but afterward, there is no “enjoying his company”. His kind chew people like us and spit us right back out.”
You held in any conflicting thoughts. You didn’t enjoy the mention of “kind” like he was an entirely different species.
“He will eat you up and leave nothing left, you hear me?”
“Yes, I do.”
He smiled, tightening his grip on your hand. “So do me a favor, don’t mingle after the 25th.”
Those words resonated with you somewhere deep inside. “You got it.”
“Can you promise me?”
You felt a new weight fall on your chest.
You look him in the eyes. “I promise.”
2 WEEKS UNTIL SHOWCASE
Waking up from your second sleep, you smiled to yourself.
Formal Friday is today.
Rising from your bed you patted yourself on the back, having already done your dry cleaning earlier in the week. You had a 1930’s outfit planned that was just the bee’s knees, you only wore it for Formal Fridays.
Standing up, you’d realize the familiar Luthor-style weight in your chest wasn’t there. You relished this change of pace, walking to your bathroom to freshen up. You liked when Fridays were as they should be, days for no stress, nothing to gather your nerves for. Effectively, no Lex.
Part of you felt bad admitting that as you brushed your teeth, looking in the mirror. He was good to you that day and days prior, rather generous actually.
But Earl’s words… part of you still didn’t like them, but you could at the very least be a little cautious. He’s also not your father, and you should make decisions for yourself. But you also understood you would be a small fish in Luthor’s gigantic pond, wouldn’t it be an oddly placed friendship anyway?
Maybe it’s for the best, but the potential for so many opportunities through being a friend. But that isn’t what friendship is about! You shouldn’t be using people, you enjoy them and whatever comes with that is an added bonus!
And you couldn’t kid yourself, you enjoyed Lex Luthor so far!
“Ughh!” You exclaimed out loud in frustration.
You shook your head, almost attempting to get Lex out of your head. You thought about him too much. Today is not about him. It’s about you, the band, and the community.
6:42 PM
Dressed in your 1930’s wear, you met up with everyone at the studio. You always needed to solidify what you and the band were actually going to play, and you were all performing in almost an hour.
“Did we want to play all the things we have in preparation for our LuthorCorp gig as practice?”
“Hell fucking no. I’m not fine with screamer notes all night ok?” Winnie grimaced.
Sonny rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t have to be the entire night, Winnie!”
“Besides everyone,” Emmy exclaimed, “I think we should bring out our contemporary music! We have some amazing compositions from moi and our amazing~ pianist! And we’ve practiced them before!”
You nodded. “I could accept that.”
“Wait wait wait, we haven’t practiced them since last summer!” Dayna disagreed.
“All the more contemporary if you ask me. Good improv experience too if you encounter a hiccup.” Earl shrugged, words laced with years of experience.
Everyone seemed okay with that.
“All right gang, it’s settled. See you all at The Fitzgerald in”—you looked at the time—”an hour and 9 minutes.”
9:06 PM
The crowd was screaming at you and the band during your encore. Part of you felt bad, the next group needed to go but then another part of you didn’t care.
You reveled under the spot light, ascending an entirely different plane where keys and your hands were the only thing keeping you grounded. Music playing gave you a different type of euphoria that you couldn’t explain. Perhaps it was just like when any other artist makes art or someone is enthralled in the passion of whatever they love.
You were entering the final stretch of your song, deciding to do an encore in Latin music much to the detriment of the trumpets. You were a riot, traversing through basslines and chords and entire runs of notes with no lapse in skill, no fatigue.
You were having a hand cramp and you couldn’t even feel it.
The song ends with your piano solo, a lone voice as everyone backs up for your final magnum opus. Through this you remind your community why you’ve been Grammy nominated. You played your ass off at every opportunity of course, but there was something about playing for the people who were your first fans 25 years ago that ushered you to a new echelon.
Ending on a triumphant major triad, you came face to face with reality. The crowd roared at your performance, and you were fighting for your life not to well up in tears from your hand muscles actively spasming.
Still, you received immense praise as your band came over to pat you on the back. Despite your pain, you felt amazing.
You knew that this community loved you, you’d known that for years at this point. But that didn’t mean that the praise didn’t feel any less wonderful each time. Some people made a point to grab and examine your hands from the audience, asking if your talent oozes from them. Or in other cases, people flirted with you, asking for you to make them “sing like your piano”.
All of it was very flattering. You’d wear warm cheeks for the whole night because of it.
As you were ushered off stage with the band, you all talked about how amazing the performance was and how amazing you were as you exited the building.
Someone asked if everyone would want to go out for ice cream, you shook your head. You noted that your hands needed a break, everyone understood.
And just like that, they all left you to your devices, waving good byes and good jobs and see you tomorrows.
You walk back into The Fitzgerald with a sigh, trying to come back down from Cloud 9. You felt weightless. You continue to walk to the bar, ready to converse with your favorite bartender.
“Hey player,” he smiled.
You chuckled, in a positive daze. “Hey Luscius, how about something sweet today? Surprise me, you know what I like.”
He raised a brow. “Adventurous today I see?”
“I might as well, I’m having fun.”
It was his turn to chuckle, fixing you up something sweet. He handed you a good old fashioned… shirley temple?
“Luscius, I mean alcoholic sweet.”
“Oh I know, but that guy over there asked that anything you ordered that was alcoholic be ordered with him.” Luscius pointed to your left.
Far off in a booth, there was a man in a gray three piece suit. You couldn’t believe it.
—
You plop down onto the plush leather seats and get a tinge of deja-vu. “What are you doing here?” You ask, coming out worse than you expected.
“Hello to you as well, Director.” Lex chuckled, not looking like he took offense. He continued, “You were wonderful up there, by the way.”
You took a sip of your shirley. “Thank you, I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Would you have acted differently if I told you?”
“No, it just would’ve been nice to know if a client was taking a “peek in the workshop” so to say. I wouldn’t have performed our Latin encore.”
He waved you off. “It’s no trouble, Director.”
If you were being honest, your two promises weighed on you in this moment.
Your demeanor shifted. “Lex, I need to have a conversation with you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are we going to need alcohol?” He smirked.
You stayed serious, he understood and mirrored your stoicism.
“We’ve had this conversation before but not in the on-the-nose way I’m about to speak about it with you. You’re Lex Luthor. I’m a small fish in your very large pond. Let’s just call a spade a spade.”
He looked displeased with that. “I hope you didn’t take my equals comment as a slight to your experience.”
You shook your head. “This isn’t about that. I’m saying that you, your company, has shaped Metropolis in ways that have affected my community. And upon realizing that I am concerned about the ethics of our friendship.”
“Please elaborate.” You couldn’t discern his expression.
“Lex, your empire destabilized one that already existed, a community of people I interact with every day. A community I am a part of,” you roll your eyes, realizing you need to be specific, “poor people.”
He looked like he processed those words carefully. “Is this in relation to my “urban development” plan?”
You openly frowned.
He raised his eye brows. “Ah, I see. I suppose calling it that in it of itself is a little regressive.”
You scoff. “You think?” You take a sip from your shirley. You felt so uncharitable, breaking the mold of your usual interactions.
“I apologize. Being honest with you, before this conversation, I hadn’t realized it posed any issues.”
You’re taken aback, but wanted him to continue.
“You likened my company to an empire earlier so think in that metaphor for a moment. A “king” does not know every facet of every community, that is what is what my lower management is for. I was never told at the beginning how this would harm people, nor was I told as we were working.”
You pursed your lips. “I find that a little hard to believe, Lex.”
He visibly frowned. “Suspend whatever belief you have of me for a moment. This is no excuse, but I was young, coaxed by those who knew more than I did about what they thought was best, and I went along with it.
“I’m 33 now. Looking back on it, especially with this in mind, I would’ve gone about everything in a completely different way. I had no intention of hurting the lowest sectors of the city.” He mentioned sincerely.
There was a tinge of sorrow to his words. You could make a guess that he really meant that. And if you were to suspend your belief, you could extend a little empathy yourself.
You took a second to even marvel the situation: you are—in the politest way possible—telling this man off about his wrong doings, and “this man” is Lex Luthor?
He gave you an expectant look, searching for a reaction in your face.
You concede, the sides of your mouth twinging into the smallest smile. “I believe you, and I didn’t mean to come off so harshly.” You take a sip of your shirley.
He looked like he started breathing again. You hadn’t realized he was so tense. He actually cared about that conversation. A part of you was flattered, maybe you both really were equals?
“But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, Luthor.” You smirk, serious and playful.
He sighs, chuckling.
You inhaled. “I might believe you, but—since you don’t want me to perform—you must understand how hard it is for me to trust you completely.”
He raised his brows again. He didn’t seem like he was expecting that, he looked like that this whole conversation. He acted as if he didn’t plan for this.
“Don’t get me wrong,” you continued, “I enjoy being friends, truly—and I would still like to be. But I hope you can understand how my fullest, unbridled trust must be earned over time.” You smiled.
He nodded to that slowly, like the gears were turning in his head. “I do understand, and I will do my best to foster that trust.”
Now it was your turn to be surprised. You were half way expecting him to call off the gig right here.
He further conceded. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
“What are friends for?”
You both took a moment.
“Where would you like to go this next week?” He asked you.
You smiled. “You pick and I’ll attend. Anywhere is fine.”
He stood up out of the booth, dusting himself off. “An email will be in your inbox by the evening on Monday,” he stated.
You look up at him, feeling content. “Good night, Lex.”
“Good night.”
You heard the clicks of his heels slowly getting quieter as he walked away.
It hit you.
"He didn't buy me a drink!"
—
10:03 PM
With a harsh swipe, all of the things on his dresser shot to the wood floor. He then shouted into the empty dark void of his home, turning a garish red.
“What the fuck!!” He yelled.
What even was that?? When did you gain that type of courage?? That skepticism??? Who messed with his Director?!
His cute, ignorant, kind, fawning Director that asked “I’m sorry” at every turn? Was that always there??
At this point, his jacket was already off. He was pacing around his house, replaying the moments in his head. He stepped on the broken glass left in wake at every turn, not caring about the former vases they once were. He couldn’t begin to wrap his head around it.
He’d never seen that aspect of you, and it threw him off balance. He had never planned for this you! This you that told him that “I can’t trust you, I hope you understand”.
He’s the one commanding! He’s the one establishing boundaries, throwing you off. Never the other way around!
He’d need to whip you back into shape.
Wait…
You’d never think that yourself.
His eyed widened at a sudden epiphany.
“It wasn’t you, it was them.” He whispered to himself.
He marched to his home office, tearing open the door and tapping into his computer. He rabidly sifted through all the video files, camera recordings, and pictures he had of you from the past week. He remembered that after practice you’d walked with some old fuck—he didn’t care enough to remember his name—back to his house.
It was Monday? Yes, it was Monday!
The traffic cameras were shitty, but he could see you walking. He peered through all the perspectives you were taken in, looking to watch you and that man’s mouths closely. He could read lips decently well.
He’d written off this conversation, believing that you’d write him off if he mentioned something like before. He was planning his next steps, this moment would be inconsequential. But through reading you both to the best of your ability, he found the fault.
That piece of shit told you about his work, enough to the point that it made you change your behavior, undoing the work and meticulous planning he’d created. He was planned up to this time next year!!!
Now he has to account for your stupid “trust”. He has been waiting long enough!!
He only barely salvaged that confrontation. Your ignorance saved you yet again. He’s a genius! Of course he knew about the consequences of “urban development”! It didn’t matter!
Those that could work—like he did—and win their way back would do so, and those that couldn’t didn’t. It was very simple.
Holding his head in his hands, elbows hurting from the harsh desk they were plastered on. He needed to get a fucking grip. He could do this, this was no issue. It even sweetens the deal! Nothing good is ever obtained easily, you were no different.
He realized that twice tonight. First in your truly amazing encore. Witnessing you fly was euphoric, such an expression of relief and beauty. He’d felt that himself, and you were the second person he’d ever seen do so.
He wanted to understand it, needed to know it inside out. What about your craft pleases you so much? Is it like his? Is it entirely different?
And you were always so cute. If today went his way he would’ve offered to massage your hand. That would’ve been his test. He mourned the evening he’d ought to experience.
Maybe it was for the best. He could hardly resist eye fucking you as is.
He took a deep, measured breath. That’s all he needed to do, remember you, the objective, the spoils he’ll gain and he was fine. He’d be more bored if you were too easy, he had enough of that already.
He’d get you soon enough.
Looking up from his hands he looked outside his office door for a moment, noticing the trail of small glass shards and debris in the shape of his footsteps.
He wiped the sweat off his brow. He’ll need to call a maid tomorrow.
a/n ; I’m starting a tag list. Here’s the link to sign up for it: it's a google form
Long end note incoming, I have much to say.
I hope you all care about Earl as much as I do. I’ve modeled him after the many old jazz musicians I’ve performed with myself :)
I’m sorry for the lack in updates for a minute. I spent a lot of time working on how the reader should act and making them being 33 believable (which might explain why I emphasized it so much, forgive me I had to remind myself over and over lol). I’m not an adult yet so this is a challenge for me :’)
Additionally, I know Lex isn’t 33 in the movie. I just liked the idea of him and the reader being the same age, they are meant to be foils of each other after all
From my playlist - Someday, Sweetheart by Benny Goodman Trio
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CHAPTER 5