continued from: here for: @quaalude made on: beta.
conrad wasn't known for being coy, if anything the media had taken to referring to him as the loveable himbo, and whilst he didn't mind that assessment, it didn't always ring true. more often than not, the man had a million and one thoughts whirling around his mind; none of it as shallow as the paparazzi, or his own management might've wanted the world to believe he was. this was embarrassing, though. he'd really allowed himself to fall off the cliff when writing the song in particular, it was full of authentic thoughts and feelings and he was proud of it, he'd just...not exactly allowed himself to contemplate this exact conversation, hoping he'd be able to get away with it entirely unscathed, almost under the radar. "uh, maybe." he did. he absolutely did. in fact, nobody knew this person better than lucky did. his heart aches as it speeds up pace in his chest, almost desperate to escape the awkwardness of this situation, by slamming itself out of his ribcage. "...look, it doesn't matter. it's just...it's just a song, isn't it?" he laughs, awkwardly -- the forced nature of the sound would not be lost on anyone who knew him.
