He vehemently & adamantly refused.
His friends woke the neighbors with their commotion, dressed him, dragged him, threw him from the car & left him stranded outside of the cafe on campus.
The droplets of rain that hit the windowpane sounded like white noise, intense to subtle, fingers matched the rhythm unconsciously.
Tapping and clicking buttons on a laptop, paused to stifle a yawn, palms fisted against eyes.
How was he still functioning? Correct answer? He wasn’t. The time? It was 11PM.
He should have been at home.
A brief pause in his thoughts, Apo looked to the other occupants of the university library. Two making out on a couch, and two on separate tables with the notable hunch of concentration.
Beauty was a complex concept to comprehend, to brand. They say it depends on the eye of the beholder, the subject, and the reaction.
Mile could never find himself terribly impressed by anyone.
The models, they all blended the same, glided around like swans, or wannabes geese, chins jutted out.
Painted pouty lips, bright eyes, knock off of one another.
The runway was the chop of the ax. Mile always situated himself up front to get a close angle, analyze, determine if they deserved to keep their contract or not. They worked hard yet failed.
The lunch at the café delicious, brief, and the topics they spoke basics: weather, friends, school.
A standard setting for friends.
Apo knew that Mile was unattainable, what were his friends thinking?
He would call to yell at them, then drown himself in coconut ice cream.
As they stood by Mile’s car, passenger door opened for him, Apo only offered his hand in an awkward motion, “Thank you for your time.”
“Huh?”
“I can take the bus home or something, don’t worry.”
“You thought the date was over?”
Apo snapped his mouth shut. Stared. “It’s…not?”
It was the owner, Mile, that held his full attention now.
The minute they made it inside, it was Apo that had grasped onto Mile’s shoulders, heard the jock let out a sound of surprise as he was pressed to the front door, lips glued instantly to Mile’s.
Tongues swirled, twisted, even caught Apo by surprise when Mile’s decided to trace his teeth like a toothbrush, had him groan openly and not care of the drool that dripped at the corner of his mouth.
~Love So Soft~ MA AU
(Venue Owner x Singer)
For: @its_just_Thu ❤️
Who wouldn’t enjoy the hundreds of adoring fans, cheering, chanting, and coming from near and far to see you?
The banners, the merchandise, the support.
Mile understood the appeal of being famous.
The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of the performance.
He dreamt of it. Secretly. In his apartment. Alone.
A novice guitar player, Mile knew he had no chance at making it big. Skill not up to par with local bands, he preferred to stick to playing at friend gigs or the bar near the theater after hours. He played for the music, the freedom.