Summary: Being one of the most popular rock band's personal assistant was never easy: between rushing through traffic, running around, and listening to music, Chordback was part of Deborah Miller's day-to-day life. As if her schedule wasn't already busy enough, the band's drummer - Lando Norris - stumbles into her life like a tornado, unexpectedly turning her world upside down.
Chordback needed her. More than anything.
The thought made its way into Deborah's head as she watched the band sluggishly walk around their shared penthouse, bags under their eyes as they scrambled for their luggage and important belongings. They moved without a care in the world, as if their schedule wasn't packed with things to do, and she didn't need to be a genius to realize that they had partied too hard the previous night.
"Move out of the way," Mick muttered towards a suitcase, pushing past it with his own luggage in hand. "Deb, when's the flight?"
"The flight isn't the problem," she stated, holding back a sigh as Charles came out of the bathroom with toothpaste still painting the side of his lips. "There's a reason why you decided to fly privately,"
"Then why are we rushing?" Charles said matter-of-factly, shaking his head sassily while he closed his own bass case.
"Because you have places to be after the flight," the only woman in the house finally let her sigh out, pushing past the mess in the living room to clean the white remnants off of Charles' face, ignoring the smug smirk on his face. "Where's Lando, now?"
"Norris!"
The room fell silent for a moment as she prayed - for anyone up there - that Lando hadn't fallen back asleep just when they needed to leave. His frame pushed past the threshold of his bedroom soon after his name was called, his signature drumsticks in hand as a relieved sigh left Deborah's parted lips when their eyes met.
His phone was pressed to his ear, eyes far too awake for the early morning hour that made her wonder if he had gone to sleep the night before or just stayed up until sunset rolled around. His eyebrows were furrowed, the look she saw just so often painting wrinkles on his forehead as he stayed in silence.
"Flo, I don't have time for this right now. I'll call you later," the words were rushed, his voice dark and sporting a tip of annoyance before he pressed the red button on the screen. The phone was discarded in the back pocket of his jeans a second later, his eyes finding Deborah's and making her realize she had been staring, pushing her back into action.
"Are we ready?" She asked, loud enough for everyone to hear. All she got as responses were a few grumbles, followed by the familiar sounds of the luggage the band carried around way too often moving through the penthouse.
The ride to the airport was spent in silence, a few moans and groans leaving the guys' lips whenever something would be too loud or, in general, too exaggerated. Going through security was just as boring, with Deborah being able to share just a few hushed words with Tania - the band's manager - before Mick would shut the two of them down.
"I told them not to drink too much," Tania muttered under her breath, taking a look at the way Charles' eyes had closed. "God, is this what being a mother feels like?"
The older woman looked exasperated as she frantically walked around the boarding area, restraining herself from giving the tired men another lecture about partying like animals and how it affects their public image.
With her arms folded over her chest, Debby watched over the guys slightly older than her. She was still wondering why Lando was carrying himself better than the rest of his friends, but it was the look on his face that truly left her curious.
