closed : @supernovajade
Come to the party, Silas. It will be fun, Silas.
Sonny, Ant, and Silas all, apparently, have a very different definition of fun. This sure as fuck ain’t it. A house party in the Hills. A mansion so big the band’s house--the biggest house he’d ever lived in--could fit inside the downstairs kitchen. The Gemstones had played a set on a makeshift stage in the living room. Something candy coated and so sweet it made Silas’s teeth hurt. Somewhere along the way, he had lost track of both of them.
He doesn’t have the energy to deal with what should be an epiphany that he clings to both of them like a safety blanket. Instead, he dodges industry people and execs who morph into narcotics dispensing landmines who know him just as well by his reputation as they do his name. He immediately wants to hide.
The loft upstairs is just two leather couches and a coffee table stacked with neatly arranged magazines. Silas flops down on one, stretching his legs out across the length with is head rolled back on the armrest. He rests his beer bottle on the table and takes a deep breath. If he’s lucky, someone will find him here and take him home.