Stein despised Spirit. It felt like a common enough thought in his head. The regret of being his friend was particularly high when he had to readjust the tie he was forced to wear in order to enact his "duty" as Spirit's best man.
After bearing witness to Spirit vomiting, multiple times, due to nerves, the man sniffling so bad Stein had to hand over a tissue during the vows, and flat out weeping when he kissed his, now, wife, Kami, Stein had enough. Honestly, he'd had enough at the bachelor party, which really turned into Spirit getting so drunk, he ended up in the bathtub, singing Kesha and gargling with Tequila. The photographs Stein took were already posted on every single social media Spirit was a member of. And the fact that Stein had to create accounts for most of them was no problem: the sheer embarrassment the redhead would experience more than made up for it.
Now, though, Stein was stuck at a table with a frilly, ivory cloth over it that he purposefully spilled wine over. The cake had already been cut, the first dances had, and now, it was the pointless open dance, to which he wanted no part of. Especially considering everyone else was crammed on the floor, jumping around, rather terribly, to lord knows what heinous song the DJ was playing.
Stein hadn't bothered with checking who it was, and they weren't in his line of vision. From his spot at the table, he had no need. He just had to hold out until the stupid wedding reception was over, Spirit was out of his life for a good week, and then he could finally relax for the first time in his life since he was, oh, 9 years old when he met Spirit in Middle School. He had no reason to get up whatsoever.
That was, until his song came on.
His. Song.
Not in the sense that the youth referred to it, but his actual song. The one he recorded back in college. Assaulting him without mercy was the familiar bass line Sid played and the wicked guitar solo Naigus thought up on the spot, and Spirit's drumming and dear Moses, that was his voice.
Oh. Oh no. That would not do. That was unacceptable. Stein whipped his head up, finding Spirit's eye, his shit-eating grin, his stupid hip shimmy that he thought was attractive when it really looked like someone threw an ice-cube down his boxers. Had he known?
Stein almost pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course he knew. He probably requested the damned thing. Hell, he probably gave it to the DJ specifically to torment Stein. Stein glowered, readjusting his tie before he simply removed it, standing up. No wonder Spirit specifically wanted a DJ to play and not a band. Ugh, the last time Stein played music with anyone was years ago, back before Medical School and becoming a licensed surgeon and oh, ew, did his voice just crack over the damn speakers? Was that intentional? He couldn't even remember, but people were starting to look at him and considering he couldn't climb under that stupid table and hide out for a million years from sheer embarrassment, he figured he'd have to do the next best thing.
His hulking, 6 foot 10 tall frame towered over mostly everyone, making it suddenly easy for him to locate the turntable when he actually looked for it. Behind it, one headphone on her ear, was probably someone he'd card for liquor. Hell, he'd card her for cigarettes, if he was honest. Not only was she small, dwarfed by all her equipment, but she had her hair in pigtails of all things, highlighting the youthfulness of her face.
Dainty and pixie-like and all that shit aside, he had to put a stop to that damn song. As he stomped off, he heard Kami's giggle chime out.
When he got to the table and the woman looked at him with one wide, amber eye, the other hidden behind an ornate eyepatch, and a warm blush seemed to spread over her nose as she had to tilt her head back to keep eye contact. Suddenly, she was smiling, eyelashes batting at him.
And he couldn't help but feel that he was just set up for something.
Because the idea of Stein having been in a band makes me downright chortle. Written for a request over on Tumblr aaaaages ago.