Three-Day Weekend Prompt Snippets
Jun. 30th, 2011 06:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rsadelleI am less than twenty-four hours away from one of the greatest pleasures known to workingkind: a three-day weekend. Fourth of July is even one of the three holidays we actually get paid for. I thought that with the extra spare time in my life, and the fact that although I've been getting a lot of work done on my other projects, I haven't been coming up with much outside of them, it's a good time for prompt snippets. Leave me a prompt and I'll write you something by Monday night! Fine print: One per person. Lurkers welcome. Generally first come first served, although things may jump the queue depending on inspiration. I may wander from your original prompt.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-01 02:56 am (UTC)More Interesting (1/2)
Date: 2011-07-05 03:13 am (UTC)"You'll get more exposure this way," Pete points out. "People will come who don't know you."
"I do get the idea," Bill says. "That's not the point."
"Sure it is. Besides, you're working with new members. This'll give you time to get that figured out before you try to carry a tour yourselves." Pete doesn't have to care. Being second opener is no big deal to him. He's done all of this, van and shitty shows he played only to the other bands on the tour all the way to headlining arenas.
*
Third opener or not, Bill goes all out. That's what they do. They put on a fucking good show, no matter what. Every night, he gets up on stage and performs his fucking heart out, and does it with a band that's damn good even if half of them are new to this. New to him.
*
Off stage, he spends a lot of time writing, or holing up in the back lounge with Mike writing. It's like now that they're writing together again, everything of what they've been in the last two years is ready to just come pouring out into demos for album five.
Pete has mellowed over the years, but he doesn't put up with Mike and Bill being hidden away for long.
Pete barges right into the back lounge without knocking or respecting their work. "You," he says, pointing at Bill, "and you," Mike's turn, "are coming out with us. You have five minutes to get ready."
He barges right back out before they can say anything.
Mike puts his guitar down. "You know it's no good trying to resist," he says when Bill glares at him. "You'd better get ready. It's going to take you more than five minutes."
Bill keeps glaring before he retreats to his bunk to find something more club appropriate. It takes him seven minutes, and Pete's tapping his foot pointedly when Bill emerges from the bus.
"Everyone else is already there. Come on. This is going to be great."
The club Pete's chosen is within walking distance, and the rest of the tour is spread out amongst a bunch of other partiers, only half of whom know who any of them are. Pete worms his way into the DJ booth, and Bill hangs around him for a while.
Bebe shows up, Mike in tow for some reason, and laughs at both of them. "You should come dance with us," she says to Bill. "We'll never drag him out of here."
Bill doesn't particularly want to be dragged either, but Bebe has a force of personality he doesn't want to fight now that he's stuck at the club.
She's too short for him, but she makes up for it with that same force of personality and they don't make a bad showing on the dance floor. They're even better once Mike slips away and she puts all that attention on making just the two of them look good.
"Thanks," she says when they close the place down and she walks back with her arm tucked through hers. "That was fun. You're almost good enough for me."
Bill moves as far away from her as he can without being obvious about it. "You're not even close to being tall enough for me."
Bebe laughs and skips ahead to walk with Pete.
Bill grinds his teeth. He should've just stayed in.
More Interesting (2/2)
Date: 2011-07-05 03:13 am (UTC)"A little harmless flirting," Bebe says. She rubs her whole body against what of his she can reach when they get on the dance floor. "I know you have a wife you're going home to."
Bill tightens his arm around her waist, touching her in a way that's unmistakable. "My wife," he says into her ear, "and I have an arrangement." He lets her go, and she almost stumbles. "You can call and ask her if you don't believe me." Then he frowns. "But not now. It's late and she's probably sleeping."
Bebe looks at him with wide eyes and leaves him to find someone else to dance with.
*
"Okay," Bebe says two days later, in a venue hallway, hand held out, "give me your phone."
Bill's in the middle of texting Nick and has to blink at her to figure out what else is going on around him. "Why?"
"So I can call your wife."
Bill pulls up Christine's number before he hands it over.
Bebe walks away from him, far enough that he can't overhear. When she comes back, she tucks the phone into the pocket at his hip.
Bill leans down when she leans up, and she whispers into his ear, "This tour just got a lot more interesting."
Re: More Interesting (2/2)
Date: 2011-07-05 03:15 am (UTC)Re: More Interesting (2/2)
Date: 2011-07-05 03:28 am (UTC)Re: More Interesting (2/2)
Date: 2011-07-05 12:43 pm (UTC)Re: More Interesting (2/2)
Date: 2011-07-06 02:51 am (UTC)Re: More Interesting (2/2)
Date: 2011-07-05 05:03 pm (UTC)Re: More Interesting (2/2)
Date: 2011-07-06 02:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-01 04:31 am (UTC)Out of me
Into you, yeah
You could hide
it's just a one way street
Oh, I believe I'm in you, yeah
Open wide, that's right
Dream me off my feet
Oh, believe in me
~Hysteria - Def Leppard
You Could Hide
Date: 2011-07-05 03:20 am (UTC)There's a wicked witch, with nails too long and a twisted sneer on her face. No, not her face. Bebe's face. Bebe's face twisted into a sneer he's never seen her make.
Pete turns away, turns around, and that's no good. Behind him is a snake, shifting and hissing to keep him in place. He knows those eyes. They're on either side of its head, so it has to keep turning its head for him to see them, but he knows them.
"Dude," Pete says, "this is fucked up, even for you."
The snake - Gabe-the-snake - just twists around him, coiling in closer and closer and closer.
"Don't let him get away," the Bebe-witch says.
The Gabe-snake hisses at her, but it doesn't seem to bother her. She's still watching them with that same unimpressed sneer.
"Come on," Pete says. "This isn't funny."
The Gabe-snake is in coils around his ankles, climbing up toward his knees. He can't move, can't step over it.
The Bebe-witch holds his arms, her nails pressing into his biceps.
Pete shudders when the scaly skin wraps around his knees, tying them together. "You said you wouldn't hurt me."
"Pete," the Gabe-snake says.
"Pete," the Bebe-witch says.
"Pete," they say together.
Their voices get louder. "Pete. Pete. Pete!"
"No!"
Pete's shout ripping his throat apart wakes him up. He twists away from them, away from the claws and the skin and the sheets.
"Pete," Gabe says, softer, not a snake anymore.
"Pete," Bebe says, not a witch, her voice a little too loud because she's scared, because she's so young and he's scaring her.
"No. No, no, no." Pete scrambles away from them until he trips over someone's shoes and his back hits the wall. It hurts, but it's real. It's not the path he was on. It's not a snake or a witch or the rocks of a cave. It's a wall, paint over plaster over wood. Just a wall. One of four around a room that has shoes and clothes and a bed and Gabe looking determined and worried and Bebe looking wary and worried.
"Shit," Pete mutters. He drops into a crouch, face buried in his hands. "Fuck."
"Pete," Bebe says, soft now that she's not being scared anymore, "do you want to come back to bed?"
"No," Pete snaps.
"Pete," Gabe says, the tone he uses when Pete's being such an insufferable douchebag that even Gabe will call him on it. His voice softens when he asks, "Couch?"
Pete nods. Couch. Couch is good. The couch is in a bigger room attached to other rooms with doorless arches between them.
He turns on lights as he goes, both of them letting him go first, until the whole house is lit up with soft white compact flourescents.
"Christ," Gabe says, rubbing his eyes. "At least Bebe has the decency to have her breakdowns at a reasonable hour."
"You broke three of my grandmother's dishes last time you had one," Bebe says. "This isn't that bad, all things considered."
Gabe yawns. "You want us on the couch with you?"
Pete looks at them, nothing snaky or witchy about them, just his lovers naked in the bright lights of the living room. "Yeah," he says, and when they're settled in, holding him without trapping him, "Sorry."
"All part of the package," Gabe says. "You don't care if I go back to sleep, do you?"
Pete's laugh is rusty, but there. "Nah, man, you crash out."
Bebe's fingers brush his hand. He can feel them, but it's not too much pressure. "I'll stay up with you. I don't think I can sleep for a while."
Pete turns his hand up to lace his fingers with hers. "Thank you. Sorry."
Bebe kisses his shoulder. "Any time."
Re: You Could Hide
Date: 2011-07-05 12:43 pm (UTC)Re: You Could Hide
Date: 2011-07-06 02:52 am (UTC)Re: You Could Hide
Date: 2011-07-05 05:07 pm (UTC)Re: You Could Hide
Date: 2011-07-06 02:53 am (UTC)Re: You Could Hide
Date: 2011-07-07 05:38 am (UTC)So gorgeous and just. Mmm, perfection. <3
Re: You Could Hide
Date: 2011-07-07 01:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-01 05:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-01 08:06 pm (UTC)