In An Instant
Chapter 9: Seduction
GENRES: Drama, Romance, Humor, Tragedy, Angst, ...pretty much everything. So...gen?
MILD CHARACTERIZATION SPOILERS for Chris Colfer's Struck By Lightning!
WARNINGS: lots of mentions of Sex and a shit ton of snark. Also, sexual tension. As if that wasn't already obvious.
PAIRING: Jesse St. James and Carson Phillips AKA Jarson AKA St. Phillips AKA Jarson St. Phillips. There may be mentions of other pairings down the line, especially ones from GLEE.
WORD COUNT: 6,327
Oddly enough, even now Carson didn't feel awkward, though he was sure he should. Instead, he gave the door two strong, powerful knocks and took a few steps back to lean against the wall behind himself, an eyebrow arching as he watched the doorway, listening to the sound of clattering inside. And then music started up and he had to hold back an amused smirk, because of course. Just, really, of course.
Jesse opened the door with a look of nonchalance, a smile crinkling his face momentarily at the sight of Carson but quickly brushing back into his confident front of stoicism. Carson rolled his eyes, but pushed off from the wall anyway, following Jesse into the dorm.
"You kicked your roommate out, I take it?"
"Lucas volunteered actually. He had some sci-fi nerd marathon with Seth planned."
Carson paused, then: "Oh? What show?"
"Starfence," Jesse said surely, and Carson snorted.
"I think you mean Stargate…Uh, Jesse?"
"What's up?"
Carson's voice was droll, and a little bemused.
"What's with the candles?"
Jesse grinned, sprawling back on his bed.
"You like them, don't you? I figured you would. Why don't you check out the desk, actually? There might be some stuff there you'll find interesting…"
Carson's brow drew together but he threw a glance toward the desk anyway, then barked out a loud laugh, head shaking, and went to it, picking up the stack of books on its surface with something like a grin.
"Faulkner, huh? The Sound and the Fury. Don't tell me- you've done a duet scene by David Ives for sold out theaters. …Jane Austen, Jesse? And Charlotte and Emily Bronte. What's with the classic romance? I've got to tell you Jesse, I'm really not interested in being the Heathcliff to your Catherine, no matter how romantic you think it is or how much you think it would show off your 'clearly vast array of talents'."
"How about the Kat Stratford to my Patrick Verona?" Jesse asked with a smug look, eyebrows wiggling a little.
Carson frowned.
"What? Okay, I know that there's no way you've taken up Herman Melville. Jesse, it might say Dick in the title, but Captain Ahab is probably not hung like a horse, and he's definitely not going to be having any romances seeing as his only company is a whale and if beastiality was actually highlighted here there's no way it would be listed as a penguin classic."
"That's the smell of books, by the way," Jesse said abruptly. "Turn you on?"
Carson gave a loud laugh.
"Jesse, I wanted to talk, not have sex."
"With us aren't those the same things?" Jesse mused with a sly smirk and Carson shook his head, tucking the stack of books under his arm and going to join Jesse on his bed.
"Is that what all this is then? An elaborate seduction?"
"Yes," Jesse admitted shamelessly. "Is it working? Should I sing?"
Carson pursed his lips, pushing the books onto the bed spread next to him and laying back, eyes sliding sideways to glance at Jesse's profile, then back to the ceiling.
"No. But we should talk."
Jesse sighed.
"Are you breaking up with me?"
There was a thick pause, then, slowly, each syllable carefully pronounced, Carson asked: "Is there anything to break?"
"Seth."
Seth glanced up at Lucas, then back down at his lap.
"What's up? You ready for the marathon?"
""You wanna tell me?"
Seth frowned down at his lap, shrugging a little. His forehead was wrinkled, hands making subtle wringing motions against one another.
"I'm not putting Stargate on yet, though. There's still like ten minutes of this, Luke. And I thought you were bringing popcorn."
Lucas sighed, flopping onto the bed beside him.
"When's Landon coming back?" And Seth shrugged again, listless. His dark eyes drilled the ceiling, as Lucas's drilled holes in the side of his head.
"Seriously. Why is this thing with St. James affecting you so much?" Lucas asked finally, and Seth's head lolled to the side, eyes on his friend now, heavy with exhaustion and hurt.
Lucas scowled.
"He's not worth this. I should know. I live with the guy. I don't care whether you're gay or not, even though I really don't know how you are since you had the biggest crush ever on Naomi before she and I started dating, and you were in love with that Bridget girl when we met, not to mention that you were pretty enthusiastic with that Hailey girl at the Halloween bash. But if you're really all converted… Just, he's not worth that, man. And you're way too cool for a jackass like that."
Seth shook his head and swallowed hard.
"I'm not. Jesse's everything I want to be."
"Exactly," Lucas shot back, lying down hard in his irritation, the bed springs wincing beneath him. "He's what you want to be. Not what you want."
Seth glowered, arms clutching together now across his chest, making an arcing, angry shield about himself.
"They can be the same thing, sometimes."
Lucas sighed, closing his eyes.
"He and that Carson kid are hanging out and talking tonight. The kid's there now. That's why I came over early. Seth, man, I really think for whatever reason he's here to stay."
"That's fine," Seth muttered noncommittally. "Whatever. Will you just get the popcorn? I wanna finish this movie before we start marathon-ing."
Lucas yawned, but rolled off the bed anyway.
"Yeah, sure, I got it."
He came back fifteen minutes later with popcorn and a hickey, having gone to his girlfriend's to use the microwave and serendipitously met her on his way out. She'd promised to drop by after her class and his mood was markedly better.
But, stepping back into Seth's dorm, the tension was still there, and his shoulders ended up again in a slump.
They started off the marathon, and Lucas fought against an urge to go and yell at Jesse, because this used to be so much more fun before his roommate had messed with his best friend's head.
Secretly, he hoped this Casper kid and Jesse really did fix things now- he didn't think Seth could get over Jesse any other way. But he also had to hate them both on principle, Carson more so since Jesse was his roommate- all of which complicated things. Either way, he was worried a bit… Jesse had a habit of screwing up his own social life unintentionally, his ego blinding him. And Lucas actually couldn't have them breaking up; he'd thought for a while that it would be better if they were, but he'd realized the other night that it'd be better for everyone involved if they stayed together. He resented the kid, and doubted he'd ever like him, but if him sticking around was what it took to fix the mess of shit they were all in these days, Lucas would do whatever it damn well took.
…He still didn't like Casper though. Not in the least.
But maybe he should check up on them in a bit… It couldn't hurt.
In the meantime, though, Lucas shook his musings off and relaxed back to watch one of his favorite shows with his best friend, trying to pretend something wasn't boiling within.
Seth, beside him, drew a breath and did the same.
"Yes." Jesse's voice was confident, firm, and Carson seem to relax minutely before tensing right back up, cracking his knuckles in the silence that followed Jesse's response.
"Are you sure?" Carson's voice was rough, harder than he intended, not that he minded much since it only served to enhance the importance of his question.
Jesse gave him an ultra-serious look.
"Let me think about it…" He took a moment then laughed and shook his head at Carson, who scowled, though one of the corners of his bottom lip remained obstinately quirked up.
"I don't chase things I don't care about," Jesse informed him finally with a shrug. "So, as far as I'm concerned, yeah. There's something to break."
Carson nodded distantly then spoke up, slowly but surely: "I agree…"
Jesse grinned triumphantly.
"It's the book smell isn't it?"
And Carson snorted and gave him his own grin and moved closer to him.
"Yeah. Turns me on."
Jesse smirked.
"I knew it would. So, we're dating now, right? That wasn't all some fancy way to break up with me or anything, right? Because I know you're evil as hell, but…"
Carson's grin faded slightly, but he nodded.
"We're dating," he interrupted, then, pausing a beat, repeated himself like an echo, the word stumbling a little awkwardly over his tongue, brow gaining a small furrow that he wiped away once realized.
Jesse tilted his head cockily, and sang the word boyfriend under his breath and Carson shook his head but smirked anyway, repeating dating in his head a few more times, trying to get used to the sound of it. He wasn't even going to try 'boyfriend', yet. He knew he wanted this now, but that didn't make it feel any less weird, or any less completely ridiculous.
"Exclusive," he spoke up though after a minute. "I know I'm new to all this, but I don't feel like doing the whole non-exclusive to exclusive thing. It just seems like a waste of time. And I don't like to do that."
Jesse almost faltered, but didn't, and without skipping a beat gave his agreement.
He definitely didn't plan to have any more incidents like the other night's, waking up like that. He wasn't sure how much he'd done with the cat-girl, but he did know that it hadn't really helped him much in the first place. And now that he and Carson were actually together, he definitely didn't want Carson finding someone else, and he didn't have much interest in doing so himself, so it wouldn't be a problem.
"Well, then, now that that's resolved…" Carson murmured. "I have your assignment."
"How about later?" Jesse asked, tilting his head. "I wanted you to give me your opinion on which song I should go with for my audition. I sound amazing with all of them, of course, but-"
"Isn't school work more important?" Carson interrupted him doubtfully, to which Jesse frowned.
"This audition is more important. We're dating now, you know, and a boyfriend has certain obligations…"
"Oh jeez," Carson laughed. "Alright, I'll do it."
Jesse beamed, springing up from the bed.
"Perfect! Get comfortable and prepare to be both massively blown away and massively turned on!"
"Vocabulary," Carson mused, and Jesse licked his lips, cocking his head.
"You know, I might start using even bigger words if I get some kind of reward."
"Enticement," Carson said slowly, smirking as he moved up and forward abruptly, reaching out and pulling Jesse in toward him. "Hmmm…Might be worth a shot."
The last part was breathed over Jesse's lips, which fell ajar. They drew in a breath together, and the connection closed the distance, their lips touching, barely, but still. They lingered a moment like that, just feeling the start of this, whatever this might be, memorizing every detail, every bit of texture and life and past and them between their lips, hung a moment in this space of just them- just each other and the beginning of a kiss. And then, the moment fell and they were left with just the urgency behind it, mouths embracing tautly, hotly, tongues moving in and out and over, leaving wet trails as they each explored the taste of the other.
Too soon, they pulled back, but at the same time just soon enough- an edge lingered to the air, an electric charge, a pulse, a beat, a life all its own- and just sort of stared at each other, mesmerized by the instant and by how much was in just the look of the other's eyes.
Carson cleared his throat and looked away, smirking a little.
"It might just be a good system," he pondered aloud, then tapped Jesse on the knee. "Come, you. You're performing for me, aren't you? And then we come back here and I will teach you why you don't just throw any symbol you think looks good into an essay, and you will at the very least stop using asterisks in the place of periods."
"A man with a plan," Jesse hummed, eyes alight, then he raised a brow: "And what are asterisks?"
"The symbol that could pass for a star," Carson retorted drolly, and Jesse beamed.
"Well, there you go. I'm adding a personal touch of my star-power, babe."
Carson's forehead wrinkled.
"Jesse, now that we're…involved…I'm going to make a note on facebook and tag you in it, and I want you to read it very carefully, understand?"
Jesse rolled his eyes.
"As you wish, buttercup."
"…Really read it carefully. In fact, here's a preview: My name's Carson. You can call me Carson."
Jesse smirked.
"I'd prefer to save that for when I'm screaming it in bed, but okay. Carson," his name was emphasized with a side of breathy moaning, and Carson's brow furrowed.
"This is going to be harder than I thought, isn't it?"
At Jesse's huge grin, he groaned.
"That wasn't an innuendo, St. James! Just- you wanted to show me your possible auditions, didn't you?"
"Oh, I'll perform for you," Jesse drawled, crawling suggestively from the bed and throwing Carson a wink.
Carson simply shook his head.
Well, at least with Jesse he would never be bored.
The stage was occupied.
Livin' La Vida Loca was being blasted from the auditorium's sound system and there were six, actually six, shirtless guys on stage, five surrounding and fawning over the one in the center, who was at least a few inches shorter than each of his admirers and thrusting his hips in a studied circular motion.
Midgets…
Jesse scowled as beside him Carson arched an eyebrow in bemusement and shot Jesse a look.
"Are they your backup, drama king?"
"Disloyal subjects…" Jesse retorted instantly, sizing up his boyfriend (fuck yeah) and gaining something of a smile, though one that faded back the second his eyes returned to the boys.
"They clearly don't know what they're doing."
"Clearly," Carson agreed, smirking, irony at the edges of his tone and look.
"…I should show them the right way."
"Clearl- wait no. That's not really a good- Jesse. Well…this should be fun at least…"
He rolled his eyes and fell back into an auditorium seat with a yawn, watching as Jesse jumped up onto the stage and joined the boys, all of whom were steadfastly ignoring him outside of two or three bewildered glances and continuing with their choreography, only one of them falling ever so slightly out of step with the others before he quickly regained himself and caught back up with the others' motions.
Jesse mimicked them and fell into step as well, smirking arrogantly as he moved through the undulating pelvises, quick stepping, and studied gesticulating about him toward the short man stalking confidently between his suitors front and center. The man made a few quick motions, spinning between the men around him, letting his legs lift and sweep with strong grace. Jesse copied the moves and tossed them back, the man frowning at him but continuing as the song's beat picked up, engaging each of those around him in different stages of what looked like a tango, though Carson really didn't know enough about dance, despite what Amy said, to be sure. When he faced Jesse, he arched a brow, and they came together to complete it, the other men barely batting an eye at the unanticipated change to their choreo and picking their pace right back up as the song reached conclusion and the man and Jesse separated and backed apart from one another, eyes matched in hard stares as they sized one another up then turned as one toward the audience and fell to completion with the song's last chords.
The lighting of the auditorium became more natural and the man turned to face Jesse, frowning, then slowly extended a hand.
Jesse ignored it.
"Who are you?"
The shorter man's voice was slightly lower than Jesse's when he answered, but clear and strong even at normal tone, each syllable enunciated and projected so that no beat could be missed by any of the audience, and bore the smallest hint of an accent.
"Chad Sullivan. Though I'm sure you knew that already, since there's no way someone who can pull what you just did off the cuff doesn't keep up with Broadway. And your name?"
"You haven't heard of me already, then?" Jesse asked, eyes fixed blandly on the unlit stage spotlights. "You really are new, aren't you? I'm Jesse St. James. What was your name again? I forgot. Charles maybe?"
"Chad," Chad answered slowly and with a hint of a smile. He glanced out into the audience. "Who's your friend?"
Jesse's brow knit minutely before quickly smoothing back out.
"You mean Carson? He's my boyfriend."
"He's pretty hot. Can he sing and dance, too?"
"Yes he is," Jesse's voice was smug. Then: "…and I doubt he's anywhere near my level, but he might be able to match you."
Chad, instead of rebuking the sentiment, just grinned.
"Hey! Carson, is it?"
Carson didn't bother glancing up from a book that he'd somehow managed to sneak out of the room with them.
"Yes," he called out blankly. "It is Carson. And he's lying. I can't sing or dance worth crap, and I have no interest in improving my skill in either."
Chad laughed, and Jesse turned a scowl on him.
"He's funny, too," Chad told Jesse, who squinted back at him, asking abruptly:
"Exactly how tall are you?"
"5'3'' and a half," Chad recited, eyes wide and amused. "You gonna ask my weight next?"
"Maybe."
"Well, I'll just let you know now then that I'm one-hundred-and-twenty-six pounds. My vision is slightly under twenty-twenty and someday I'll probably need glasses, but that day isn't today. I have about eight or nine percent body fat, and am twenty years old. I was born December fifth. My sex is also male, and my orientation is toward other guys."
Jesse cocked his head, surveying the other.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Would you like to check?"
"I'm not sure I'd see anything even if you are a guy. I left my magnifying glass back in the dorm."
"Fair enough, though there's a reason they say that big things come in small packages."
"Only if you're Mary Poppins," Jesse scoffed, and Chad shrugged.
"Well, my mom is, and with my genetics I think my chances of having the trait are pretty high."
"Oh, who are you, Isaac Newton?" Jesse asked irritably and Carson flicked a page in his book as he interrupted their banter with:
"Jesse, while I'm glad that's a name you at least know, the person you meant to refer to is actually named Gregor Mendel."
"Your boyfriend's smart," Chad's voice was interested, and Jesse's instantly re-hardened from the smile that had been threatening to break out at Carson's interjection.
"Oh, he's brilliant. So, 5'3''? Wouldn't that qualify you for dwarfism? It's a shame you weren't available for casting when they did the original Willy Wonka; I'm sure you'd have made an excellent oompa loompa."
"I do look good in orange and green," Chad allowed. "Though the maximum height to qualify as having dwarfism is 4'10'' I'm pretty sure."
"He's right."
"Carson, not the time!"
"It was a fact, Jesse," Carson retorted, still reading. "Weren't you going to do your audition stuff?"
"Oh, what are you auditioning for?"
Jesse turned back to Chad with a smug look.
"Spring Awakening. Melchior, of course."
"Of course," Chad agreed. "And, of course, as am I. My friend Pat wouldn't let me not."
"That's a double negative," Carson announced from the audience and they both turned to face him.
"Yes it is," Jesse agreed loudly and triumphantly, casting Chad a condescending look and half-smirk.
Carson frowned, looking up from his book, then shrugged and went back to reading, the smallest of smiles toying at the corners of his lips.
Chad just nodded.
"You're right. So, you were going to go over potential audition material?"
"Yes," Jesse retorted, cocking his head and simpering. "If you don't mind…"
"Can I watch?"
"While I am always up for an audience, I don't know that the public would take kindly to me crushing the dreams of those less fortunate."
"I'll tell the public I asked for it," Chad suggested, and Jesse almost glared at him but smiled brightly instead.
"As long as they know. I'll need the stage to myself though."
Chad shrugged and promptly hopped off, glancing up at Jesse once more before moving toward where Carson was sitting.
Jesse's eyes narrowed, but he allowed his focus to remain with his performance. Carson could take care of himself, and if midget tried anything the reaming Carson would give him would be fantastic either way.
He was never lacking in wow-factor, of course, and would kill whatever song he did now like a lion facing a prostrate sheep. But falling into his old wheelhouse of classics seemed like the best move strategically. People who had the nerve to tackle the greats already had an edge up on competition because of their confidence level, and if they were as good as Jesse then there was an opportunity for them to become the classic, and anytime the original was listened to from then on the cover artist would be thought of. You could do that with anything, of course, but bigger ticket items, like Bohemian Rhapsody (which he'd really made his complete bitch at Regionals- he'd actually had Brian May contact him after being sent the youtube link!), were automatically going to give you that leg up.
Jesse didn't actually need any legs up on midget, but Carson was there too, and he was considerably taller… not to mention that whether he needed to or not (which he didn't; his talent was the obvious kind that no-one in a twenty mile radius could miss), Jesse would never miss a chance to show off.
He was a motherfucking star.
Jesse pulled a disk from his back pocket and looked at it a moment, then tossed it out toward Chad, calling: "Mind running this up to the sound room? Tell the AV-person to turn it to three and hit play when I give the signal."
He turned away from Chad, smirking when he heard footsteps.
The midget was apparently a doormat, in addition to the whole short thing.
If he hadn't already been confident he had his role in the bag, he would have been now.
"You guys want to back up a real star?" he called to the dancers grouped along the wings, talking and draining bottles of stars.
They glanced among each other, a few shrugs between them before three of the more tenacious stepped out to join Jesse on the stage.
He spoke to the three quickly and quietly, spending less than a minute, before separating himself and throwing a grin at the space spread before him.
A jerk of his head and a second later the music kicked up, as did Carson's gaze from his book.
"Oh my God… He's not. No."
Chad, beside Carson, slid down into his seat with a grin.
"He is…"
"Sometimes I feel I've got to…"
Jesse paused to look up subtly, neck lowered, and glance into the audience with heavy eyes. Then he continued, the words a throaty purr, pelvis thrusting into a slow circular motion: "Run away, I've got to…"
Each metallic thump of the music was punctuated by a sharp movement, a leaning, a spin, a thrust, a fall.
"Once I ran to you… Now I'll run from you. This tainted love you've given- I gave you all a boy could give you! Take my tears and that's not nearly all."
Carson really wished he could say it wasn't having exactly its intended effect, but…
He shifted the book in his lap with what mind he had left that wasn't entranced by his, by Jesse, on the stage and moving like he owned the world. He wished he had it in him to believe otherwise.
Unfortunately, Jesse really was a born fucking performer.
Still, he was sane enough to be petulant about it, which he took as good, and maybe bad too.
"To make things right, you need someone to hold you tight…"
How the hell did Jesse do this?
He was insane-
Insane.
Jesse dropped low and bent himself in some ungodly way, words vibrating as he howled: "Don't touch me please! I cannot stand the way you tease."
Carson's eyes tracked over Jesse as he continued, practically writhing between the three back up dancers that had chosen to join him.
"Tainted Love." Gyrated. Fucking. "Tainted Love." Gyrated.
Fuck him so fucking-
"Touch me baby, tainted love."
Hard.
Jesse's voice settled lower and lower, but still managed to reverberate through the auditorium, and Carson felt himself swallow for what had to be the tenth time in two minutes. Less. Holy fuck. This song would be just over two minutes probably and wasn't even over, and—
"Touch me baby… Tainted Love…"
Slowly, Jesse's hands were guiding those of the dancers.
Carson swallowed again.
Two. Motherfucking.
Again.
Together they pulled Jesse's already clinging shirt from his frame as he crooned a last, powerful "Tainted Love", the notes aching and tension filled, trailing into a moan.
He fell back, shirtless, against the three dancers, all breathlessly smirking.
Carson glowered and tried for a noncommittal grunt, pressing a little harder down on the book as if it would help.
"You are good," Chad told Jesse, voice utterly jolly. Turned on or not, an eyeroll from Carson was automatic. "But I have to admit, your boyfriend's hard-on was a lot more interesting for me than the performance… and I'm not sure if that's really what you want in an audience member."
"It's so cute you think that and shows how little sexual experience you must have that you don't realize that an erection is only a bad thing if it's lasted eight hours or is a little over two inches." Jesse retorted smugly from the stage. "There are pills to help with that last, just so you know. It's okay. Not everyone can be huge, clearly."
"Actually," Carson volunteered. "I believe there was a study that said one in three males is extremely under-endowed."
"That's so funny, because there are three of us here. And I know for a fact that two of us more than measure up in every way."
"You really do have a size fixation, don't you?" Chad mused. "It's clearly not from lack on Carson here's part, so that does make me wonder…"
"Let's not kid ourselves, you were already wondering," Jesse snorted. "Everyone wonders."
"I didn't," Carson objected.
"That's because you had your hand down my pants less than ten minutes after we met, Casper."
"You stole my tape deck."
"Clearly I'm in the midst of true love..."
"Clearly," Jesse and Carson both snapped in unison.
Apparently neither had really heard him.
"We aren't arguing over this again and there was nothing sexual in what I did. It was business."
"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Chad attempted to joke.
"Don't you have to go suck Willy Wonka's cock, short stuff? You don't even have to be on your knees to be the right height. Might want to get on that."
Chad shot Carson a glance.
"I'll leave you two to your anger sex. See you around maybe?"
"Unfortunately it's a small world."
"Disney reference?" Jesse asked, jumping down from the stage.
Carson snorted.
"No. I'd never intentionally-"
"Don't speak-"
"Jesse, you just finished singing. Bursting into more eighties covers isn't healthy. You're supposed to wait three hours."
"Like with swimming in the ocean?"
"Absolutely."
"Good thing I don't like rules," Jesse grinned. "And that reminds me! We need to start our Disney marathon."
Carson groaned.
Chad pursed his lips in thought as he quietly left, retracing his steps back toward the green room and the stage.
If this guy was his competition, eavesdropping was only right, after all. Chad was no idiot.
"Jesse, didn't you want to show me more than the one?"
"Do you think you can handle watching more than one?" Jesse winked.
Carson rolled his eyes.
"For your information, spontaneous erections are typical of the pubescent male."
"Oh, I love it when you talk dirty to me."
"Don't make me bring out the big guns, Jesse."
"I'm sorry, but it looks like your big gun is already out."
Carson smirked.
"That's what you'd think, but…"
"What? Are you gonna shoot me with it? Because I've gotta say, Carson-"
"Jesse, now would be a good point to shut the hell up."
"Yes sir."
Carson laughed at that and Jesse looked up smugly a moment before joining him.
"Do you want to go get some coffee?"
"That better be a rhetorical question," Carson parroted indignantly toward Jesse, then, eyes glinting, took his hand. "It's on me though, since I'm clearly the man."
"You're questioning my manhood?"
"I'm asserting my own."
"Fuck you."
Carson snorted.
"I wasn't being serious, Jesse. Don't worry. You can share the figurative pants with me."
Jesse tightened their hands and waggled his eyebrows.
"Or we could just take them off altogether…"
"Coffee first, then we'll talk."
Chad, unobtrusively in the wings of the stage, knit his brow together.
The first rule of real show business might well be don't talk about real show business, but the second rule wasn't also don't talk about real show business; it was more a tie between 'know your competition' and 'fucking rehearse, rinse, repeat'. All up there with: 'There are small parts, no matter what Shakespeare said, and if you don't want to be stuck with them you better as hell be following rules one through three. Dumbass.'
He would know.
Because of that, he had to see this all as a chess board. And the outcome was life or death. Play it smart. Nothing off focus. Get the part, and be sure you will throughout.
Never falter.
He had his ten commandments and he lived by them.
This kid was talented, but he didn't stand a chance, and Chad just hoped that the fall out wasn't too bad. He wasn't a mean guy. But he also wasn't a dumb one, and strategically he had to do what he had to do.
Jesse's ego could clearly afford to cushion the fall, and if that failed, collateral damage.
A few pawns always got killed on the way to winning didn't they?
In the tech booth at the top of the auditorium, Lucas nodded once, eyes on the small ripple of curtain and disturbance of shadow in the wings of the stage.
He'd wanted to check on Jesse and the Kid during a bathroom break, and had come here expecting drama when he'd realized they weren't in his and Jesse's dorm and this was best second bet. He hadn't expected quite that though...
Against his better judgement, his eyes hadn't budged from where he knew Chad Sullivan stood, his thoughts racing a mile a minute.
Jesse was his roommate, and his girlfriend's friend, as well as his own.
But Seth was his best friend.
Crap.
He shot Seth a text saying he'd be right there and just had to check on something for tech he'd been designing and forgot about.
Then moved down through the auditorium and toward the shadows of the stage.
True love bullshit could kiss his ass. It was just lust anyway, and it was ruining everything.
Seth was his best friend, and for Lucas that pretty much beat everything, himself included, and he'd do what it took to get back to where they all needed to be.
A/N-
Ashley here. Sandra and I wanted to be witty but we're both half-dead and words are mostly gone for me since I wrote like the last six pages of this in the past few hours. Ick.
Clever isn't a friend tonight so I'll just give you some dialogue:
SANDRA: You are all beautiful sunflowers with the patience of an immortal for waiting [as you have] for this. I DON'T KNOW. I'VE CRACKED.
ASHLEY: *crying* WORDS CAN'T NOT DOUBLE NEGATIVE SEXUAL TENSION TOO MUCH I CAN'T SANDRA HELP
SANDRA(what she should have said): I'M TOO BUSY WANTING SLEEP TO MUDDLE THROUGH YOUR CREYS, RIDICULASH
ASHLEY: YOU ARE ZEUS AND OPRAH AND NO
SANDRA: I'M TOO AWESOME FOR MY SHIRT, TOO AWESOME FOR MY SHIRT, TOO AWESOME FOR MY SHIRT
ASHLEY: REMEMBER WHEN ROD OF FLESH OH WAIT OUR READERS DON'T OH WELL
SANDRA: TROLL IN THE FANFICTION!
please review so we can sleep. Please.
(Special shout outs to Mary and Kim and oh yeah every goddamn one of you because you're all unfairly awesome. WE LOVE YOU GUYS!)