I DO NOT OWN STEVEN UNIVERSE

Hey! It's been a while. Anyways my life is generally unsatisfying so that gives me time to write stories that are not. Hopefully. I'm gonna try to finish another chapter fic.

All human au. Lapis is somewhere around 16-18 and Pearl is about 18-20.

Trigger Warnings: Underage substance abuse, swearing.


STEVEN'S FIVE DOLLAR PLAYLIST: NOW PLAYING- Mendelssohn's Third Violin Concerto

It's raining out.

Good, Lapis thinks. It hasn't rained since forever, and the dry heat of the infant summer has been killing her sinuses. Besides, the sound of the droplets pelting against the tin box roof drowns out the petty arguing amongst her band mates. Right now, Lapis leans against a bass amp, fingering out chords on her pride and joy- a jet black Schecter guitar. Her amp plug lays unused a few feet away so she doesn't add to the surplus of noise in the shack.

All their practices seem to end like this, Amethyst and Jasper biting each other's throats about some petty issue. Lapis has been recording the subject of each fight in a mental science log.

Entry number 16: Jasper told Amethyst that her beat is clashing with the bass guitar. Amethyst argued back that Jasper's bass line is messing with her beat.

Lapis usually stays out of the fights between her two band mates. They always ask her to pick sides, and she always gets choked up. So she opts for the middle ground and watches the rain without getting wet.

"God, you're so annoying!" Amethyst snarls. "This is why we don't get anything done."

"You're a bitch!" Jasper roars back. Thunder cracks in the sky outside and Lapis holds her breath. It doesn't seem like the weather is going to clear up anytime soon. She closes her eyes and tries to focus on her own music. Somehow, it seems as though every one of her strings has fallen out of tune. Nothing sounds good enough to stick around for. Lapis wishes that she called out sick. At least then she's trapped in her own house instead of Jasper's garage.

Amethyst clenches her fist around her drumsticks so tightly, they might snap under her fingers. She whips her head around to Lapis. "What do you think?" She snarls.

Lapis hates these interrogations. They're never to get any actual work done- they're just for personal validation. She tries to mumble out a reply, but the words catch in her throat and she ends up shaking her head and shrugging.

"Come on," Jasper releases a humorless laugh. "You never fucking contribute. You just piss me off," She crosses her arms over her white bass and glares in silent challenge.

Lapis gathers her energy and stands up. She shoves her guitar in its beat-up case and packs away her amp. Both of her band mate's eyes burn into the back of her head.

Lapis turns back around to face them, clasping her hands together. "I uh, I think that I'm gonna go home. Mind if I leave my guitar here?"

"Whatever," Jasper growls, "but don't be on my ass if it's broken by time you come back and get it."

Lapis can't speak, but she shoves her middle finger high in the air for Jasper to gawk at. She wraps her hoodie around her thin frame and fixes the hood over her hair. Then, without another word, she storms out into the rain.

Maybe she underestimated the severity of the weather, because it's absolutely pouring out. Wall after wall of cold water slams upon her frail shoulders. Lapis wishes she had enough money to buy a car. She's stuck running on the slick sidewalk trying to find a shelter. Her own house is a three mile walk from Jasper's. There's gotta be a place on the way. Of course there are corner stores and restaurants on the way, but Lapis doesn't want to loiter. She's had enough confrontation for today without a shop keeper asking her if she's going to buy anything.

The first suitably dry place she sees is a large pavilion with an overhanging roof. Lapis rushes to it and ducks under. It's the local theater house. Bands, school productions, movies: they all come here. Lapis' own band played a gig here, and it was one of the best nights of her life, even if only a handful of friends showed up.

Lapis leans against the colossal spray painted gold doors, pressing her back against the cool metal and sliding down to sit. She pulls a drenched lighter from her coat pocket and a pack of Malibu's. She knows it's a nasty habit, but small town life is a breeding cesspool for these types of hobbies. The gas station clerk doesn't even ID her anymore. And why should they? She pays for at least half of their bills with her bad habits.

She lights up, takes a heavy drag, and closes her eyes. Her mind fogs with pseudo relaxation, and she holds her body warmth in with her soaked blue hoodie. And then she hears it. Music.

Lapis opens an eye and tries to detect where it's coming from. It's muffled and soft. Lapis figures it comes from inside the theater and she presses her ear to the doors.

She's met with rich violin music that makes her body quiver. It rushes to her ears and through her chest. Lapis gasps and pulls herself up. She takes one last laborious drag of her cigarette before throwing it to the wet pavement and suffocating it under her boot. Lapis pries the gilded door open and slips in, hoping to get past the reception desk without paying. It's fairly easy- the worker there is reading a magazine and doesn't pay any mind as Lapis slips by.

The girl hurries to the main hall, and rushes in, avoiding the bellhops on either side of the aisle. She finds a warm place by a heating vent in the back and plunks down, shedding her jacket. The performance seems almost all but over, save for one last solo by the concert master.

Lapis can't see well from the back, but she can make out the lanky figure of a young woman standing and making a mockery of her entire section with her playing. Lapis sighs and watches as the girl's fingers trace up the violin's neck and play the fingerboard like a game. The music is fast paced and energetic, and it reflects in the musician's face. The woman's eyebrows draw inwards, and her tongue sits just past her lips. Lapis doesn't realize she's copying the expression as she stares up intently at the stage. She wants the violinist to lock eyes with her, so she can figure out what color they are.

The concertmaster plays one last collection of powerful notes and ends by drawing her bow against all the steel strings. Proudly, she breaks her posture, tucks the instrument under her arm, and faces the crowd. Lapis catches her eyes. They're blue.

The woman bows and the entire hall disbands as if she is a conductor's baton waving them off. She seems to keep eye contact with Lapis. Or maybe Lapis just wishes she would. Either way, Lapis is out of breath and off balance. She stumbles up and lingers behind the crowd to watch the young violinist pack away her instrument.

She's so lost in her gaze that she doesn't notice the large security guard behind her. He grabs her upper arm and she's shaken out of her haze.

"I didn't see you walk in," he snaps. "Got a ticket?"

Lapis panics. She tries to speak, but her throat is dry and she can't find the words. She just struggles against his hold and incriminates herself more. She pats at her jean pockets in a feigned attempt to look for her ticket. The guard raises a brow.

"Well, miss?"

Lapis squeaks in panicked response and she shakes her head. She hates how roughly he holds her arm. She tries to rip away from him, but he's steady and she's frantic. Blood races through in her veins and she can feel her heart pummeling her ribcage.

"I... Don't..." She manages between heavy breaths. He holds fast. God, why can't he just let me go? She thinks.

"I'm going to have to take you down to the back room," he orders, and Lapis freaks out. She tries to kick him and wriggle out, but to no avail. I'm doomed, she thinks. I'm so fucking doomed.

Suddenly, the security guard releases her, and she stumbles back and hits a wall. Lapis looks to run away, but she's stopped by a confident hand that bars her escape. It's soft and pale, and Lapis can't breathe.

"I apologize for my... cousin," says a feminine voice. "But she must've lost her ticket in my car."

Lapis looks up and feels heat rush to her face. It's the violinist! She looks even more regal and graceful close up. She has a sharp nose and large expressive eyes. Her short pink hair is slicked back, and her dark dress is long and low cut.

"Keep your kids out of my way next time!" The guard huffs, whipping around and searching for more stragglers.

Lapis takes a heavy breath and runs a hand down her face. She mouths a quiet "thank god" and looks at the violinist.

She wears a half smile and concern on her makeup. "Are you alright, miss?"

Lapis tries to claim an affirmative, but all she manages is a quick nod.

The violinist hold out her hand and Lapis nervously accepts it. She feels like this woman is sending sparks down her fingertips.

"Splendid," the woman smirks. "You looked pretty bad back there. I'm Pearl. Your name is?"

Lapis manages to cough out a response. "Lapis. Uh, I'm Lapis Lazuli."