woah!! that colt wip babe… i’m SAT
WELL because you are so excited and I need more motivation to finish it...how about a taste??
The cast and crew had gathered at a restaurant not far off the set with an expensive menu and a rooftop deck that overlooked the nice part of town and to say you were done with it was an understatement. Call it a stunt person trope or maybe you just hated parties but rooms full of people trying to talk over music they know it too loud was not your definition of a good time, it was a bad time and like always you were in the corner, bobbing your head to that loud ass music and hoping Molly would get tired and head home so you could have an excuse to leave.
But she was dancing in the middle of all the people pleasers, a tequila sunrise in hand and the biggest smile on her face and you sighed, knowing it would be a while before you could sleep. You also spotted Notch across the way with an arm draped across the shoulder of his actress girlfriend as he smoked a cigarette and blew the smoke in her face every couple seconds. You rolled your eyes and were about to search for a second beer when the music shifted, getting a bit slower and you groaned as a song you loathed started to play through the speakers and the dance floor got slower, more intimate.
You can hear it in the silence, silence, you
You can feel it on the way home, way home, you
You can see it with the lights out, lights out
“God…it’s always Taylor.”
“She is the soundtrack of my sadness,” you muttered and the guy chuckled as your eyes narrowed since the noise sounded familiar, almost comforting.
You slowly turned and spotted his hair, still sporting a bit of blonde tips from his Tom Ryder days as Colt Seavers stood next to you, beer in hand and an easy smile on his face as he mouthed some of the lyrics, really getting into it.
“And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars,” he sang and you eyed him. “And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words…Come on sweetheart, put it into words.”
“No.”
“More words than that,” he muttered and you rolled your eyes, about ready to walk away but he grabbed your arm. “Hey…I’m sorry. It’s good to see you, it's been too long.”
“It’s been three months,” you deadpanned and he chuckled, rubbing his neck.
“Dare I say that’s too long.”
“Don’t be charming,” you said and pushed past him, going over to the bar and grabbing another beer as he followed and grabbed his own, sticking close to your side like mold.
