Tired Iori is SUCH a nice guy lmao.
He sucks when he's normal.
Rock + Whip vs Iori.
"Boss, we should just print new ones… the coffee spilled on a lot of these. They're all soggy."
"Those have notes on them?"
"Uh… maybe? Doesn't look like your handwriting though."
Iori grunted and peeked over the coffee table at his junior. He was kneeling on the floor, busily looking for the modified sheet music Athena had prepared for him to perform during the Shanghai concert. She had been keeping a finger on the media's pulse, and concluded the public liked it when they shared the vocals. She had dug up some of her old duets, changed the key to fit in both their ranges (no small feat) and teleported them to him while he was negotiating with a shipping representative. It scared them both so badly, Iori set himself on fire and the rep tipped his chair. Those papers had been hand-marked, and now…
"If it's Athena's handwr-... oh fuck me. Howard. Give."
Rock was standing there with two fistfuls of coffee stained papers. They were clearly wrecked, illegible, and were falling to pieces. Rock grimaced and carefully placed the brown colored tree pulp on the table. It made a sucking noise as it spread across the laminated wood. Iori just stared at it. He stood up from the floor and slumped into the couch. He let out a long sigh and covered his eyes with both palms.
Well… this sucks.
It was a little past 10 in the evening, and although it wasn't rush hour, the hotel lobby was far from deserted. There was significant foot traffic, and as a result, a significant amount of people were starting to recognize him. Iori watched them approaching from between the cracks in his fingers and willed them to go away. He was tired. He was grumpy. He was wearing half a face of makeup and really didn't want to interact with fans.
Shouldn't have waited in the lobby…
"Boss, what do you want to do with this? Do you think you can you read it?"
"Hm?"
Iori looked up.
Rock was still standing at the head of the coffee table, and turned to motion to the sad looking pile of goop on the table. He was doing his best to shoo the crowd away, and busied himself attempting to communicate despite not speaking a lick of Cantonese. He was successful, thus there was no need for Iori to further expend energy he didn't have.
I'm getting old, aren't I? Is this what being old feels like?
After they found themselves in relative peace, Rock took a seat across from him and carried on his conversation.
"What is it supposed to be? Are those sheets?"
"Athena's got us a new song."
"Oh…" Rock poked at the alien looking mess. "So this is why you called me."
A pause. Iori gathered his words.
"No." He was shocked as to how disappointed he was. Fuck I sound like my dad. "Well, maybe I should have called you to review these. I honestly didn't think I'd have to go through music with you, but after today's lovely display of musical talent" A pointed stare. "Looks like I might."
Rock blinked. He didn't seem to understand.
"What do you mean?"
Iori coughed then continued. He did his best not to sound as tired as he was. On a normal day, he would definitely have shouted at Rock, but he wasn't really up for it right now. He spoke slowly, but only so he didn't jumble his words.
"Howard, I've never heard you so fucking out of pitch. What the hell happened? Did you shatter your eardrum this morning? Cuz this was literally the worst I've seen you play. If you did this during your interview, I wouldn't have hired you."
Iori huffed and planted an elbow against the armrest to pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked past Rock's shoulder to watch the people lining up in the check-out line.
Rock appeared both relieved and nervous at the same time. He dropped his eyes to the ground and chewed on his lip silently. He didn't answer, so Iori continued. He took special care to calm his voice a bit. He wasn't actually mad, after all.
"I know you're better than this. Normally you are, so there must be something that's fucking you up so badly you can't tune your instrument. I need to know what it is so I can take care of it."
A pause. Rock grimaced and spoke quickly. Despite his efforts, his voice betrayed a degree of worry. Iori blinked and refocused, watching him carefully.
"Take care of it? What does… what is that supposed to mean?"
Iori huffed. The question was so asinine, he almost didn't honor it with an answer.
"What that fuck do you think it means? I told you. The only reason I'm here busting my ass on tour, is because you need the practice. If something is stopping you from improving, then I need to get rid of it, or-"
Iori paused as he caught sight of Shermie and Yashiro leave the dining room. Shermie was wearing a dangerously strapless dress, and… Yagami! Focus damn you. He quickly pulled back from the distraction to finish his sentence.
"-or them. Now, spill the beans."
Rock had followed his gaze to and from the Heavenly Kings, and swallowed audibly before answering. He looked scared and sounded strangled.
"Uh… nothing is happening. I'm… I'm just… I'll do better next time."
Why the hell is he stuttering? I yell at him all the time during practice, and he's never like this. Iori narrowed his eyes and watched as Rock shrank under his stare. The boy was panicking, and definitely hiding something. He kept glancing behind him at… is that Leona's friend?
"Howard. Is IKARI stalking you? Why is that soldier over there."
"No! I, uh… I asked her to… um…"
"You what?"
"Nothing!"
Rock flinched at his own voice, as if he didn't realize he had just shouted at his employer. Normally Iori didn't tolerate being yelled at (or punched for that matter) but Rock had actually clapped his hand over his mouth. Iori decided to overlook the offence. He didn't want a fight.
That didn't mean he was going to let it go.
"Not IKARI? Are you sure? If that one's pulling some nonsense I can call the Commander an-"
"No!- I mean yes! Whip is.. she's okay. She's not causing any trouble."
Iori frowned at him.
Rock set his face like stone and met his eyes with a boyish defiance. The tension in his neck indicated he was clenching his teeth. Iori was getting annoyed just looking at him. He was also tired of this guessing game, and he wanted to finish up and take a shower, but apparently Rock didn't want to tell him what he wanted to know. Honestly, the only effective method Iori knew for extracting information involved bloodshed, so he was at a bit of a loss right now.
Alright, you little shit.
He raised his voice in annoyance and curled his lip into his trademark snarl. Iori didn't expect to find this much resistance while trying to help people - and frankly, he was getting quite frustrated. He glared at the teenager, and (surprisingly) the teenager glared back. Rock seemed to be anticipating this, and was clutching at his armrests with all of his strength. There was a hint of wildness in his look. Iori didn't notice. He wasn't sparing attention for Rock's tantrum cues. Apparently Leona's friend… Whip? had noticed, and was striding over from her couch on the other side of the lobby. She looked panicked.
Iori hissed at him.
"Alright Howard. If it's not IKARI, then who? Something is going on with you, and you're going to tell me because this is my business. First concert? beautiful. Rehearsal? flawless. Today? Holy shit. I've complained plenty about your technique, but until now I never thought you weren't worth my time. Whatever's fucking you up, I'm gonna get rid of it. So stop messing around and level with me-"
This time, Rock stood up to yell at him. There was something close to hysteria in his voice. He was almost frothing at the mouth, and he looked as rabid as he sounded. Iori stunned into silence. The only thing he could think was, 'are you fucking kidding me!'
Rock screeched. Iori covered his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose.
"Level? Level with you?! You want me to tell you everything, when you tell me nothing, Right?! I'm not some dog, Yagami. And I'm not going to put up with you, you asshole! You've got some nerve asking me shit, when you won't even tell me why the hell you were in the Ivory Coast, and why the hell you got dropped in my hotel room afterwards! Or why the hell you ate my curta-"
The other people in the lobby were staring, but Rock - who was normally so self conscious, didn't seem to mind. Rock was so mad, he was even stomping his feet. He was making quite a fuss, and drawing a great deal of attention. Whip was fast approaching. She wisely didn't draw her firearm. If she had, Iori would have toasted her right there.
This damn entitled brat... fuck! ... wait, did he say Ivory Coast?!
Iori's fatigue fled, and suddenly he was snapped fully to attention. He squinted at Rock, who was ranting and making theatrical gestures. He didn't seem to realize he had admitted to knowing a lot more than Iori had anticipated.
"Rock! Shut up! Stop it you stupid idiot! Hey!"
A girlish voice interrupted. It was Whip. She looked concerned and grabbed hold of Rock's arm. That seemed to snap Rock out of whatever rage he was caught up in, and he startled into silence mid-sentence. She shook him by the shoulder and hissed angrily into his ear. They consulted for a brief moment before Rock took a couple of deep breaths and addressed him. He was still coming down from whatever high he was riding, and managed to snarl an apology before turning violently on his heel and attempting to leave.
What the hell!
Nobody walked away from Iori Yagami like that. This kid was gonna get it.
"Howard! get your ass back in this seat."
Rock flared up again, but this time, Iori was having none of it. After a good deal of deliberation (and instruction from Whip), Rock finally slumped into the couch and glared daggers at him. Iori turned to Whip and addressed her with equal sharpness.
"IKARI. Leave."
Whip opened her mouth to protest, but decided against it and reluctantly let go of Rock's arm. She slowly made her way back to her couch across the lobby, all the while looking back as if expecting one of them to eat the other. When she was well out of earshot, Iori turned his attention to the grumpy brat trying to stare holes through his forehead. Iori would never had anticipated Rock Howard to be this crazy. While they were in SouthTown, he never exploded like this. He was quiet and shy, and didn't cause trouble. But the moment they went on tour, everything changed. This kid had punched him. He'd punched Leona. He screamed at everyone. He raged at everything. It reminded Iori of his own behavior...and he wasn't comfortable being on the receiving end of it.
If anyone else had done what Rock managed over the past week, Iori would have gutted them ten times over. But since Iori wasn't willing to let the kid walk, it more or less gave the teenager licence to run roughshod with minimal consequence. That didn't mean Iori wasn't mad about it though. He wasn't one to hold grudges, but this kid...
Iori squeezed and unsqueezed his fist, unintentionally shredding through the sofa's fine leather. He stared Rock down, and pondered how he was going to handle this. Rock looked like he was finally done being a pissy brat, and looked a lot less wild than before. Whip was staring at them from across the room.
Alright Yagami... what to do.
Rock was valuable to this band because he could play. He was nothing short of a musical genius - and that was what he was brought on board to do. Play his sheets, and not make mistakes. If he couldn't do his job when it mattered, then for all intents and purposes - he was a mere waste of time.
Right now, the cards were stacked against Mr. Rock Howard. If he was great during practice, but was awful on tour, what good was that? Iori was truly hoping something could be blamed for Rock's terrible performance. Something he could fix, cut out or get rid of. But if Rock was to believed, and there was actually nothing going on, that meant he was just occasionally awful for no reason... that wasn't going to fly. He might actually not be worth the effort.
It was just one performance though... agh.
Aside from that... there were bigger things involved here. Things more important than concerts and musical careers. Iori Yagami was no saint. This he knew. As a result, he was tolerant of all sorts of character flaws - since he himself played host to a great majority of them. He was the last one to condemn another's behavior as unacceptable... However, one thing he never did - and neither did he expect anyone else to - was lie, and especially not to him. If nobody told the truth, then nobody could be trusted. That wasn't a reality Iori was willing to accept, so he rejected it entirely. Nobody he cared about lied to him.
So what Rock said next was really going to effect Iori's opinion concerning his new bandmate.
"Howard."
His voice was cold and serious.
"How do you know I went to the Ivory Coast."
...
Silence.
The nastiness in Rock's expression evaporated as swiftly and it had come. He cast his eyes to the marble floor and pondered. A little bit of panic was followed by regret. He seemed to sense the gravity of this situation, and was thinking hard about how to answer. Did you need to think hard to tell the truth? Was he going to lie on top of everything else?
He shook his head and refocused just as Rock began speaking. He spoke tentatively and didn't meet Iori's eyes.
"The Ivory Coast?... You told me before you left. At the bar."
Iori offered a deeper frown. He narrowed his eyes.
"I don't think so."
Rock nodded aggressively and replied with earnestness.
"Definitely. You definitely did. How would I know otherwise?"
"I didn't. Someone told you."
Rock paused, deliberated, and came to an agreement with himself. He had decided to insist on with what Iori knew to be a lie. Something changed, and Iori felt what little goodwill he had draining fast. Rock continued flippantly chattering away. Iori continued shredding the leather sofa.
"No, no. You told me. And you were super drunk too, so you probably don't remember saying it. Okay? Can I go?"
He made motion to stand up and leave.
*Crack*
Something snapped and Rock froze. Iori had shredded into the sofa's wooden frame. He clung to his seat and stared at Rock with wide eyes, not trusting himself to stand - lest he lunge forward and cut his junior to pieces.
Oh...okay... breathe Yagami...
He was seething. He hadn't been this mad in a long, long while. When people he didn't care about insulted him, he didn't give a shit. When his enemies tried to manipulate him, well - that was expected... but when somebody he counted as his own, decided to lie to his face...
... calm your tits, asshole...
Heat was crackling in his veins, and he watched as his vision began swimming before his eyes. It took every ounce of his willpower to not strangle the boy right there on the lobby floor. Rock read his body language and stopped trying to walk, and started trying to sink into the sofa.
They sat in tense silence for a long moment, before Iori suffed his rage away, and managed to breathe normally. He didn't realize how tense he had gotten until he unwound and everything ached. With a *shink* he unhooked his fingers from deep within the armrests, and slumped down into his seat. He propped his elbow against the wrecked couch, covered his eyes with one hand, and sighed into his palm.
When he finally spoke, he sounded old, dry and tired.
"Rock... that's bullshit and you know it."
This time, Rock didn't try to defend himself. He remained silent.
"I know what I said. I told you I was going to Africa. I would never have said Ivory Coast, because I didn't know where I was going until I arrived."
"...oh."
Iori dropped his hand and looked at his junior with something akin to disappointment.
"That doesn't matter too much. I don't really care who told you. It's military ops, and it's classified, but you know me well enough and I'm no stickler for rules... but you lied to my face just now. Is this going to be a habit?"
Rock shook his head, and stared at his feet. Iori continued.
"Cuz you've made a habit of a lot of things. So far, all you've done since we've left Florida is attack me, spend my money, throw tantrums, and now you can't even give decent performance. You won't tell me why, and you let me help you. I'm your Boss, Howard. I'm not your Mom and I don't need to put up with this."
"..."
"But I have, and I'll continue to for a little bit longer. I'll let you run around and pull all sorts of crazy shit. Go ahead and punch me. Buy your drugs. Lie, steal, cheat. Go kill somebody. Do whatever you want. But screw up the next concert and you're done. I'm sending you home, because I've just about had it with you.
"..."
"Do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
Iori stood with a grunt, and brushed off his pants. As he passed the coffee table, he burnt the sad pile of destroyed music sheet into ash. It was a shoddy cleanup job, but he wasn't willing to do any better. He was drained. He wanted a shower. They were flying tomorrow, and...
Bet he doesn't know the schedule.
"Rock."
The boy jerked to attention. He looked as sad as Iori had ever seen him.
"We fly for Shanghai at 11 tomorrow. Lobby at 8:30. Don't be late."
Shermie messed shit up real bad smh.
Rock realizes how shitty he's been. He's too concentrated on roumere about his boss being a terrible person, that he didn't realize how awful he's been. Yag's been pretty darn good to him tbh.
Rock is in all kinds of funk poor baby. Now nobody's on his side, cept whippy.
We're ramping up plot!
LMAO YAG U DON"T LIKE LIARS? wreeee devilmom