so, how’d he find his way here? chet figures, in life, it’s best not to ask frivolous questions. sprawled out on the sand, the whereabouts of his shirt completely tossed to the wind, the new now’s frontman relishes in the sea breeze. salt air kisses his cheeks, ruffles his hair. bandslam’s festivities are easily a mile behind him; the shells of party noise picked up by the wind wash over him in waves. laughter. screams. clinking glasses. chet’s camped out on a remarkable level of serenity, thanks to today’s liquid diet and his trusted sidekicks, the remains of which are still tucked away in his jacket pocket for safe keeping. then come the footsteps, near-silent drumtaps toeing at the periphery of his consciousness. it’s only when a pair of feet enter his direct vision that chet lifts his gaze, lips pulling into a spacey smile.
“ oh, dude ... greetings ‘n salutations. ” he’s slurring. the phrase sounds more like a single string of letters, a word of osbourne’s own invention. the thought elicits an airy chuckle. “ can i offer you somethin’? booze? good shit? company amid chaos? ”
a spontaneous week-long trip to san francisco had been exactly what ricky needed. sure, he ran into a couple fans who had heard all about the controversies, but nothing major. for the most part, he’d been able to push his band’s recent rapid growth in popularity (and the press that followed) to the back of his mind, at least within the comfort of his hotel room.
after getting home pretty late the night before, he had barely churned out six hours of sleep before he was up and out, heading straight to the jukebox for his morning coffee. it was important to finally show his face again, and squash any suspicion that he had taken a week away in order to hide. from his bandmates. from bandslam. from nate. from anyone.
stepping inside with an air of confidence to him, he ordered a coffee before sliding into one of the booths as he waited. “add in a shot of whiskey, mister barista,” he called out, his loud obnoxious voice making his presence known throughout the café-bar. “maybe two today, actually. why not?”
chet truly had no business lingering in this respectable establishment -- he had, after all, just ventured here to facilitate a semi-discreet business exchange with one of the chefs in the back. still, to maintain appearances, he’d ordered himself a coffee -- hold the coffee, bring on the booze -- and made himself a temporary home at one of the booths adjacent to the windows in the back. one sip of his drink confirmed his suspicions: it wasn’t nearly strong enough. in plain sight, the frontman supplemented his caffeinated drink of choice with a little extra pizzazz. another sip. the fluid warmed its way down his throat and settled in his stomach, already generating a gentle, tasteful buzz. ah, yes. now his morning could start off right. the next few moments stretched on much the same: a sip, a satiated smile. repeat. nothing silenced demons quite like a good spike.
a familiar voice marked his cue to abandon his chosen spot. light, confident strides led chet from the back of the eatery to the front. he was sure to snag an untouched muffin from a table in his path. folded arms supported him against the back of ricky’s booth, eyebrows lifting incredulously as he took a bite of the sugary treat.
“ oi, asshole, don’t tell me you’re goin’ soft on me now, ” chet started with a smirk. “ a week away turn you into a lightweight now? ” cue another bite of his muffin followed by a light hum. nimble fingers navigated to the inside pocket of his jacket. they surfaced with his still half-full flask in tow.
“ hey -- a token of my fuckin’ generosity. ” chet gave the flask a light shake. “ say no ‘n you’ll break my heart. ”
“ so you’re tellin’ me you’re about to host a party. dry. a dry party ? ” chet blinks several times to account for the sheer idiocy of the concept. “ i’ll bring some shit, ” he reasons. ever the hero. “ no need to thank me. ”
or, alternatively : hello hi, it is i, linc !! comin’ atchu w/ my third gumdrop, chet osbourne !!
( TOM HOLLAND, CISMALE, HE/HIM ) meet CHESTER “CHET” OSBOURNE, the BASS / LEAD VOCALS of the band THE NEW NOW. the TWENTY-THREE year old is definitely GREGARIOUS and CHEEKY, but can also be kind of TEMERARIOUS and PUNCH-DRUNK. i hope he finds success with the band. after all, it’s not easy to make it in the music business these days.
i just got back from an open-close double last night and i’ve got another double later today, so pardon the messy nature of this intro! but y’know what? for chet, it’s kind of on brand.
tw: drugs, mentions of child neglect, mentions of death
THE PAST :
chet was born to two free spirited hippies in australia! they settled down in perth to raise him, but... quickly found out that parenting just wasn’t their speed. we’re talking, like... messy flat, locking little chet in his bedroom to go do drugs off the kitchen counter. chet’s father was a musician and his mother was a photographer and they just kind of lived off of the money left to them from his dad’s parents. but after those funds ran out, marybeth and lou were in for a tough break -- with no money and no promise in sight, they devised a plan to get back to their old lives.
chet’s family spent his fourth christmas eve at his aunt’s house by the shore. after the dinner and festivities concluded, chet’s parents put him to bed in the guest room and proceeded to have drinks with the other adults just like any other year. but then, while little chet was fast asleep, marybeth and lou slinked off into the night, never to return.
elizabeth “liza” osbourne, his aunt, took chet in as her own. without children herself, she was a bit hesitant at first. she was, after all, only about 25 at the time, and her experience with children was limited to casual run-ins around town.
for a while, liza was able to feed chet a simple story -- mum and dad are just on a trip, love. they’ll be back soon. but “soon” quickly spiraled into years. chet grew tired of waiting eagerly by the window each birthday, peering through the curtains to see if maybe this time, maybe this year, his parents would come back for him.
the narrative changed. marybeth and lou were killed in an automobile accident. liza had fabricated the trip story, she claimed, to protect chet when he may have been to young to understand. the nine-year-old argued that he’d never been to young to understand and proceeded to give liza the silent treatment, without cracking, for four weeks.
one night, chet woke up to liza screaming on the phone at someone. “ god damn it, he is your child and i will not be the one to tell him his own parents ran off because they bloody well felt like it!! ” chet asked about it in the morning; liza thinly veiled the truth by convincing the young boy it had only been a dream. a stress dream. his parents were dead. very dead, indeed. and they’d loved him very much.
the osbourne family grew just before chet’s tenth birthday. after receiving word that she’d been promoted to an executive position in her company and would need to relocate, liza also discovered what she’d feared -- her close family friends, the matthews , had a household in shambles. things couldn’t get any more insane now, could they? liza, while at tea with the couple, offered to look after their daughter for them. and so chet gained a new sister, whom some of y’all might know as @playinglilah !
chet & lilah are what one might refer to as the dream team they are sibling goals, honestly. inseparable, prone to bullshit -- especially since chet is such an enabler.
uh... he recently found out about the truth behind his parents’ disappearance. so yeah. baby’s not a happy camper.
THE PRESENT :
chet is the frontman ( bassist / lead vocals ) of the new now ! he has major matty healy vibes, honestly. very strange, kind of spacey when he talks about his art. favorite cocktail? all of it. everything. toss it all in a casserole for him. cocaine? well gosh, if you insist !
full of cheeky humor. is he flirting with you? yes. all the time.
he’s... lowkey spiraling? this fame game has kind of consumed him. he’s always been a sweet kid. now he’s a sweet kid on drugs. and on his bullshit. someone stop this before it turns ugly. ( jk it already has ).
love it if we made it is lowkey an anthem for him? also love me! basically.... the 1975 is a major inspo.
he’s all about that street style, man. open flannels, leather jackets, beat up adidas o’s. hightops just starting to come untied. that “artfully disheveled” look is very chet.
uh... chances are, he’s on something. if you ask, he’ll just laugh. but seriously.
a creative force. okay. he’ll disappear off the face of the planet for like, 12 days straight and come out on the other side with bags under his eyes and piles of new material.
he’s like....... very gay? lowkey hasn’t formally come out? but isn’t shy about just letting it be assumed / implied. but also isn’t shy about dabbling in heterosexuality too, if he’s drunk enough. if you’ve got eyes, a smile, and a killer voice, odds are he’d get with ya.
WANTED CONNECTIONS :
ex-girlfriend. guys .... i would LOVE to have an ex girlfriend of his here? someone who he literally broke up with by saying in person, over dinner, with a mouthful of noodles:
“ hey. so, uh.... i can’t do this thing any more. but i want to thank you for the learning experience. truly. without you, i wouldn’t’ve learned how much i sincerely enjoy dick. ”
fuck buddies. he’s a mess. need i say more?
poppin’ pals. do drugs w/ him at 3am. run from the cops. flip off convenience store cameras just for fun. drive 90 on the highway with your hands through the sunroof, catchin’ stars.
muse. i... would love to have someone be the inspiration for a lot of chet’s shit? maybe they also write with him? lmk.
random encounters. maybe they matched on tinder. maybe they met at the drugstore when chet seriously asked the pharmacist, “ hey... you guys sell weed here? ” or perhaps it’s something a bit more ridiculous, like they met in the back of club when chet was totally taking a whizz in a place other than the bathroom.
ride or dies. ( 1 / ? ) when chet commits to a friendship, he’s all in. he and lilah have been by one another’s side forever. it would be super cool to have them have a #squad?
best friends or nah? you know what’s juicy? best friends who like... toe the line of something more but never quite get there? give me some fuckin’ angst with this. they’ve slept together before maybe, but haven’t spoken about it. only happens when they’re not sober? maybe there’s feelings. or maybe they’re just playing themselves.
trusted houseplant sitter. somebody to watch over chet’s precious succulents and flowers. because y’know... someone’s gotta water the plants when you’re out on a bender.
but yes this is Trash on a plate !! hit me up to plot! xoxo
