A/N: For the sake of this story, let's pretend Adam's suspension doesn't exist for now...'k? ;-) Maybe I'll write it in later, I dunno...anyway. Enjoy! Thanks for the feedback!
The debate was pointless because the results were the same every time.
"I just thought we could do something different, you know?" Curtis Axel asked beside Bo in the backseat of the car. "We could catch a movie or go mini-golfing or something."
"At night?" Heath asked from the driver's seat, wrinkling his nose. Heath always drove. It was an unofficial regulation in the group.
"Yeah, I'm sure there's places still open." He was nearly out of suggestions already. "Or…a casino, or a restaurant or something."
"There's food where we're going," Adam Rose pointed out.
"I mean a normal restaurant."
"Don't be fussy."
"But why does it have to be karaoke every night?" Curtis groaned. "Don't you guys get bored embarrassing yourselves?"
"Embarrassing ourselves?" Heath asked with a brash chuckle. "Maybe you feel all mortified and insecure, but I live to perform in front of people. Especially when I know I'm good at what I do."
"Absolutely, Heathy baby," Adam said, grooming his fingers over Heath's bare arm.
Bo hadn't bothered to interject yet. What was the point? Curtis might protest the idea a bit more but he'd cave to Heath and Adam's insistence. He'd insist he wouldn't sing, but that too was a false statement. He rocked the house every time.
Bo loved his friends, tiring as their squabbling was.
But his thoughts were not on them in the moment. His thoughts weren't even in the car, sailing over the speed limit towards Charlie's, the first karaoke bar Google Maps had directed them towards. His thoughts were back in the AT&T Stadium, to fifteen or so minutes ago, on one man.
Baron Corbin.
His Wrestlemania appearance had been a surprise to Bo; he'd just learned of it a bit earlier than the WWE Universe had. Imagine the surprise when Bo caught the strange and familiar sight of Baron in the locker room with them before the show started! Baron had entered the NXT after Bo left for the main roster. Bo was aware of him in the same was Baron was aware of Bo; they knew of one another, yet without knowing each other. Hence the introductions Bo had made just minutes ago. He'd decided to put off saying hello until after the match. Bo understood needing time to yourself to focus your energy and concentrate your strength on the challenge ahead.
And he'd known Baron Corbin was handsome, but he was striking in real life…gorgeous enough to make Bo's stomach feel all knotted up. Bo had a weakness for tattoos.
Baron was quiet, though. Bo could have even guessed angry, but how could one be after winning such an important award in a major match?
Maybe he was shy.
"Well, we're about two minutes from the joint," Heath said. Underlying message: quit your gripin'.
"It'll be a fun night," Bo said at last.
Curtis leaned back in his seat. "Fine. But I ain't singing."
It took two or three drinks in Curtis Axel before he smacked an empty glass to the table and said, "Alright, let's do this."
Bo skipped onto the stage just ahead of his friends. But his head was reeling with thoughts of Baron. Was he the karaoke type? Would he be caught dead in a joint like this? Bo had a funny little daydream of Baron wandering into the place out of curiosity, or perhaps he somehow recognized their rental car and peeked inside to find out what they were doing here. Perhaps he'd hear Bo's above-average vocals and swoon.
Bo scoffed. Not even in his dreams. Too unrealistic.
"What's up, Charlie's?" Heath greeted the crowd from the stage, voice bursting in the microphone. Bo kept close to his side. Adam was practically groping him on the other. "We're the Social Outcasts, and we're ready to shake this place to the ground."
The throng of drunks weren't impressed so far.
Lyrics on the screen proved to be unnecessary. A rhythm tap—tap—tapped to signal the beginning of the song and the four men kicked off the intro in sync.
"Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see…"
Adam would take over the first solo verse as the others' voices faded out with the words, "To me…" Bo swayed on his feet, admiring Adam's gentle tone which could power itself to intensity whenever necessary. He pretended he wasn't checking out the crowd. A few were paying attention. Most kept to themselves. That was alright. They performed for the sake of others nearly every night of the week. This particular activity was more for their delight and theirs alone.
Bo was next. They'd done this plenty of times. He took a breath and channeled his inner Mercury.
"Too late, my time has come
Sent shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time
Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth…"
As the muscle of his words picked up gradually, Bo grew aggressively confident. He pretended Baron was here, was checking out the performance…he sang like Baron Corbin could fall in love with him over a smile, a verse, alone.
It was Curtis's turn. The other three served as his backup singers. He had the most fun of all of them yet he'd never admit to it. As much as he groaned and complained.
"I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me…"
"He's just a poor boy, from a poor family!
Spare him his life from this monstrosity…"
Curtis was hopping on his toes by the end of the verse, eyes squished closed, screeching, "For meeeeee!" right on the note. Bo almost applauded him before Heath took the center of the little stage for his portion of the song. If anyone could truly rock a verse, it was Heath Slater. He even slashed at an invisible guitar, microphone crushed in the other hand.
"So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here…"
The Social Outcasts wiggled their hips, banged their heads, bounding from one side of the stage to the other and back again. Attention was on them now, whether in impression or total mockery and secondhand shame. Bo didn't care. He was having a great time.
Baron would probably laugh if he saw me.
It didn't stop him.
The music eased towards its conclusion and Heath finished out the lyrics.
"Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters…
Nothing really matters to me."
Half the bar erupted with applause as the Social Outcasts took their bows, one at a time, then altogether. The other half were still downing their drinks to muster enough confidence to get on stage next.
Heath slung an arm over Bo. "You thirsty?"
"A bit."
Curtis was the most intoxicated of the four when they decided to call it a night. Heath was stable enough to drive. Adam was tipsy enough to "accidentally" grab for Heath's ass for balance. Bo was drunk on his own bliss; alcohol unrequired. What a life he lived. Amazing friends he could have adventures with, job of his dreams, laughter and good stories to tell by the day…all that was missing, really, was a man to make him feel special in a way his friends couldn't. The way Heath made Adam feel.
Now who could fit that bill…?
"Curtis, you throw up in the car, you're cleanin' it up," Heath mentioned. "We're only fifteen minutes from the hotel, so just hold it all inside, okay?"
"Ew," Adam said, grimacing.
"I'm fine," Curtis insisted.
Adam and Heath were sharing one hotel room, of course. Bo and Curtis would get the other. When the team first developed, the four would pile into one room and lose sleep over bickering and conversations about work. One or two men were always required to sleep on the floor, allowing the other two to take up the beds. Bo always got the first bed, for some reason; they never made him sleep on the floor. Curtis and Heath usually fought over the other. Nowadays it seemed silly to make anyone sleep on the floor, so two rooms were paid for and everyone got his own bed. Bo missed the days the four would stay together in a single room. Then again, he never had to complain about sleeping on the floor.
Curtis made it back to the hotel without puking or passing out. He stumbled into the room ahead of Bo, making a beeline for the bathroom. Bo lingered in the hallway with Adam and Heath.
"You did well tonight, Peep," Heath said, touching Bo's shoulder. "And I don't just mean on karaoke. I mean in the match."
"Oh, thanks. So did you, Crimson Werewolf," Bo answered him, smiling. He made eyes with Adam so Rose wouldn't feel left out. A Social Outcast no-no. "And you too, Mongoose."
Adam beamed. "It delights me that we can weather a free-for-all match without jumping on each other's backs."
"Nah," Heath said. "No trophy's worth what we got right here."
Bo agreed with all his heart.
"You go ahead in the room, Adam," Heath spoke, handing over his key card. "I'll be in in a minute."
"Don't keep me waiting, Heathy baby," Adam crooned.
Wonder how Heath feels with all that attention, Bo wondered. Flattered? Annoyed? Creeped out? On cloud nine?
Adam tapped Bo's cheek with his fingers and voiced, "Good night, Bo Peep."
"Good night."
Heath waited until the door closed behind Adam to ask, voice lower and more somber, "Everything okay with you?"
"What? Yeah, everything's great." The question had thrown him off. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I saw you and Corbin kind of staring each other down in the locker room earlier. Felt a little tension."
What kind of tension? Bo drew in a breath.
"Anyway, I just wanted to make sure he wasn't trying to start nothin' with you."
"Oh, no, he's not," Bo blabbed, shaking his head. "I was welcoming him to the roster. That's all."
"Alright. Now, he's kind of an asshole, I'll warn you. So watch your back around him. But don't worry so much, because we've got your back, anyhow. If nothing else, I'll rip that greasy hair of his from his scalp if he bothers you."
"I appreciate it, Heath, but for now, that's unnecessary." For whatever reason Heath was the most protective of Bo. They all loved each other, sure, and spoiled Bo as the "youngest and cutest", but Heath went into big-brother mode for just about anything. Bo hadn't been resentful of such an attitude as of yet. But he didn't think Baron Corbin was going to be a problem. He hoped for everything that was the opposite.
"Alright." Heath nodded. "Just making sure."
"Thank you."
"'Night."
"Good night."
Bo Dallas slipped into his room and heard miserable groaning behind a cracked bathroom door. He knocked without letting himself in. "You alright, Curtis?"
"Get me a pillow, Bo. I'm spending the night in here."
"Okay. Let me bring you some ice and a snack."
"I don't want food."
"You'll feel better," Bo promised, moving towards the fridge. "The food will absorb all the alcohol."
"I'll throw it up."
"I'll leave it on the sink in case you change your name."
"Thanks," Curtis grunted.
Bo grabbed a pillow from the bed, filled a plastic cup with ice from the cooler, and retrieved a package of peanut butter crackers from his bag. He knocked on the door again, creeping inside. Curtis's cheek was pressed against the disgusting cool toilet bowl.
"Here you go, hon," Bo said, setting the ice and snack on the counter, then propping the pillow under Curtis's arm.
"Thanks, bro. Taking care of me like a sweet kid."
"It's what I do." Bo smiled. It was hard to take offense at a moniker like "kid", considering the great age difference between him and the others. "Let me know if you need anything else."
"Mhm." Curtis scraped a hand over his sweaty face, eyes not opening.
Bo left him alone, changing into pajama bottoms and keeping his Social Outcasts shirt on for the night. It featured all four of their faces in mugshots, his absolute favorite piece of attire. Bo plugged his head into his phone and stuck the buds in his ears, keeping the volume low in case Curtis called out for him. Snuggling under the sheets, he let Coldplay and Baron Corbin dominate his mind's eye.
"I wanna love you but I don't know if I can
I know something is broken and I'm trying to fix it
Trying to repair it, anyway I can
You and me are floating on a tidal wave
Together
You and me are drifting into outer space
Together…"
He fell asleep smiling, a final thought surfacing: Welcome to the good life, Baron...