I walk into the room and instantly notice rocker Roy Mustang sprawled out on one end of the couch. His righthand woman and the lead guitarist of The Burnouts, Riza Hawkeye is leaning on the other side of him, and Jean Havoc - second guitar - leans behind them both, but it's hard not to notice Roy first. Maybe it's his commanding presence, but it's also hard not to notice the smaller of the two men's pastel pink gem encrusted ipod mini. I immediately ask if it's Riza's out of curiosity, but the suggestion gets shot down.
"Nah, my mum sent it to me. Pink's my color," he tells me as he gives me a knowing smirk. It seems interesting: most stars like Roy don't often mention their mother, but Mustang fills me in with some rather casual pride. He was orphaned at a young age and his Aunt took him in as his foster mother, raising him from childhood.
Roy wryly notes, "I figure it's pretty obvious I'm British, but people act shocked when I say my birth mother was Chinese-Korean. Can't imagine why," he jokes, and at that Hawkeye snorts, as if she's heard the faux surprise dozens of times before. For her part, she mentions casually that her 'mum was American', and then the conversation quickly returns to what tunes Roy's been listening to lately.
"Would you believe I can't get 'My Humps' out of my head?" he asks, eyes alight with mischief under a thick layer of eyeliner.
Increasingly, I believe I could.
— Blender Magazine, Just who do these Burnouts think they are, anyways?
They were in the middle of what Jean liked to call "bumblefuck nowhere" on the way to New York City when they'd stopped at the motel. It'd never been easy or particularly cheap to foot the hotel bills, but now that they were signed to Central City Records, it was certainly less of a hassle. The crew all doubled up, and the rest of the band did the same, always in the same layout. Jean and Breda bunked together, and Vato and his professional grade earplugs shared with Kain (who often fiddled with the audio well into the night). That left the second room for Roy and Riza, who had been together the longest out of everyone else and naturally claimed the last beds.
It would have seemed unusual, even suspect, if it wasn't for the fact that most evenings the band gathered in their room for meetings, video games, and general mayhem. When the band did manage to get a connecting suite, however, all bets were off. The presence of a single shared couch usually meant squabbling for who had to sleep on it, and which two of the guys got to sleep in their own beds. (For Riza's sake, they'd all decided she always got her own bed. It was, as Roy had declared at the beginning of their earliest tours, the gentlemanly thing to do.)
And one wrestling match on the suite floor and a knocked over lamp later, Havoc had been demoted to the couch.
That evening, Breda, and Jean had wedged themselves onto the couch to play Mario Kart, and Falman had tucked himself into the corner armchair to read a book. Kain was spread out across the floor with his latest sound magazines, and in the back of the room, Roy and Riza had commandeered the small wooden dining table. Heads bowed low, they'd been passing back and forth one of the many band notebooks they kept to cross check expenses. Gas at that city, snacks at the next one, lunch, bathroom breaks…
"Was there anything else in the schedule for today?" Riza asked, sucking on the end of the cheap ball point pen that had been placed on the motel table beside the notepad. She watched as Roy struck a line through their planned pitstops and shook his head.
"No, I don't think so…" Black eyes darted back towards the page, and then widened as he flipped through the notebook. "Shit, actually. What time is it?"
Riza looked up, locking eyes with Roy before she realized what he was getting at. She swung her gaze around to the couch, and bit her lip as she caught sight of the small blinking DVD clock.
"Boys!" she said sharply, causing Jean to jolt in his seat. "Turn off the game, and switch it to MTV."
Breda snorted, but Jean was the one to complain first. "Riza, come on— we're in the middle of a race, can't it wait five minutes?"
"No, it can't." Roy sighed, reaching for the remote control. The video game flickered off the screen, and the reflection of the TV went a bright blue before it switched to cable channels. A chorus of loud complaints went up as Roy flipped through the channels, stopping when he hit MTV.
Carson Daly filled the screen.
"We made it to the top ten this week," Riza said as she got up from her seat, shoving Havoc aside to make room on the couch. Kain looked up, gaze fixating on the screen while Havoc and Breda tossed the controllers to the floor in apparent defeat. Roy followed, hopping over the back of the couch and squeezing in beside Riza. Breda sighed, slipping to the floor, and Havoc rolled his eyes, leaning away to rest his elbow on the arm of the sofa.
"Might as well see where we're ranking before we go perform," Roy added, draping his arm over the back of the couch as he settled himself down on the cushions, sprawling into Riza's space. She leaned into him without thought, back pressing against his side as she watched "Number Six" flash across the screen.
"I was going to win that race, you know," Jean said petulantly, before Riza lightly nudged him with her knee and gave him a glare. Roy scoffed, and Riza slipped as his chest moved, leaning further against his shoulder. She could feel the tension in his sides and the slight jitter of his foot as he bounced it against the carpeted floor in anticipation. They were going to have to play TRL soon, and there was nothing saying they would even make the top three. And for as much effort as they'd put into their first single, Seven Deadly Sins (for two lonely sinners), Roy was still worried about its success. True, they'd made videos before, and even an album on a smaller, indie label, but this — this was different. The nation was more or less deciding just how good their music really was. And they were left watching.
Riza casually slipped a hand to his knee, slowing the nervous bounce of his leg. She looked up at Roy and raised a brow before slipping her Sidekick out of her pocket in order to get more comfortable. Realizing Roy hadn't already done the same, she leaned over his lap and pulled his phone out of his pocket, sliding the screen open to reveal the keyboard after she dumped her own phone in her lap. Thumbs dancing across the keys, she typed out a message before passing the phone back to Roy.
He took it in hand, dropping his other palm to her shoulder before he scanned the screen carefully.
Breathe. We're in the top five.
Roy exhaled slowly, chest deflating as his shoulders went slack, and he leaned back against her.
The screen flashed again and Roy looked up, heaving a sigh of relief. "And at number two: The Burnouts, with Seven Deadly Sins…"
"I told you, we'll hit number one by the time we roll in to perform," Riza said calmly.
"We have been picking up this last week," Falman remarked from the corner of the room over the top of his book.
"Who cares about number one? It's only two numbers difference anyways. I say we've got this in the bag," Jean added, wriggling at Riza's side. When it became clear he wasn't going to get any more room, he slumped, glancing back at Roy and Riza.
Riza squeezed Roy's knee gently, and he snapped his phone shut, slowly looking imperiously around the room. "Yeah well, we'll aim for the top anyways. Can't hurt, can it? I expect everyone will be on their best game tomorrow."
"Right, we'll do great. Can we go back to playing Mario Kart now?" Jean said loudly, leaning forwards to pick up his controller. Roy made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, and pushed away from the couch while Riza straightened.
"Oh go ahead," he scoffed. "I'm going to get things unpacked." Roy stood up, brushing off his jeans.
"Might as well do the same. I'll put a movie on while we get to work. Have fun with that," Riza said, slipping past Havoc to follow Roy to the adjoining suite room. Pausing at the kitchen, Riza reached into the mini fridge and pulled out two small bottles, handing one to Roy as she shut the suite door behind her.
She grinned, twisting off the cap of one of them before she raised the bottle up. "I think we deserve a toast, for breaking the top three."
"Yeah?" Roy asked, taking the cap off of his own bottle. He sniffed the stuff and winced, drawing his nose away from the lid. "If you insist, Riza," he said with a smile, fiddling with the cap in his hands.
"I do. Besides, we might as well get to it before the boys do." Lifting up her mini bottle, she shared a conspiratorial smile. For a moment, he thought she might wink, but instead Riza looked down, eyes alight with her own private brand of mischief. Roy grinned, bracing himself for the second shot, liquid confidence to match Riza's words. "Cheers, and luck for tomorrow."
"Yeah, Cheers," Roy said before he knocked back the drink with a grimace, and playfully nudged her towards the suitcases. "Alright, now time for us to be the responsible ones," he teased, biting his lower lip in thought.
"You? Suggesting responsibility? I'm shocked…" she said with a laugh after she'd swallowed her drink and set the empty bottle down on the end table. A blonde brow raised in mock disbelief, and he shook his head.
"Very funny," Roy said, edging past Riza to unzip his suitcase. "Now, I'm going to need your help with this. Which looks better—?"
remember trl being a thing?