Tw:
mentions of sex
drugs
Drugs, sex, fame, shouting, music, drugs again and alcohol. that's what made up George's life.
The drummer of ecstasy, he was the classic train wreck celebrity that always some how made it to the headline for something negative, even if it is something he doesn't realise. Yesterday was because he went to a formal interview hung over on coke and vodka after a late night neighbourhood party.
It was no surprise that he woke up to multiple rings off his band mates having a shout, mainly the lead singer Wilbur soot though. Although Wilbur may appear like a tall gentle man with his harmonious voice on stage but in reality he was the most strict picky man ever, you would never catch him doing something that could risk his career or even create a bad thought.
On the other hand the George was a huge party animal with a large amount of confidence, either wearing latex shorts with fishnets or baggy cargos with chains and messy mascara covering his face topped off with a small ripped shirt, making him appear tired all the time. Reflecting this his cocky spirited attitude and daring words didn't help his case to protect his bands reputation. everyone else managed perfectly fine but why was he struggling so much?
*ring ring*
With a loud groan, George managed to wake himself for once and reach a weak tired hand over to his nightstand to reach for his phone, instead, the nightstand wasn't there.
Confused, George shot up and looked around, this wasn't his bed. This was the filthy bathroom floor and his arms were practically hugging the toilet seat that he was sick in the previous night, god he even had his shoes on still. Most of the time he at least manages to make it to his plush bed in the other room.
While mumbling to himself he dragged himself up onto his feet and reached over to the bathroom counter to press accept, not even checking who it is.
His heads spiralling too much and he can't even make out his own reflection in the foggy mirror, George clicked the speaker button because it wasn't physically possible for him to pick up the phone and to hold it to his ear.
In the reflection of the misty mirror was a figure. His eyes, once a kaleidoscope of dreams, now dimmed behind carefully curated lenses. Society had melded him like clay until he became a delicate porcelien doll, yet brittle to the touch. even the softest of taps would shatter him.
Before George could even compute what the phone was saying, shouting from the phone loudly echoed through the once desolate bathroom, a voice he recognised.
"George! what the fuck! have you checked twitter?" Wilbur's voice sounded furious and like he was a cracking time bomb, slowly ticking closer to completely losing it with George.
"hm? no..?" he replied with a loud yawn that echoed through the dirty bathroom.
He could tell it was something bad, it always was something bad anyway.
Wilbur huffed an annoyed sigh under his breath before disappointedly reading out something from a news article "'Wilbur soot's,' that's me, 'band mate yet again caught in a club under the influence of alcohol and what else is to be rumoured as cocaine and kix.'"
George stared at the phone blankly, his hands slightly shaking from yesterdays events and his migraine hurting more than ever. In the background of Wilbur's continued enraged ramble he opened up the mirror cabinet and pulled out the first bottle of pills he hoped would be paracetamol, it wasn't it was some sort of perc drug so he quickly placed it back in trying to not give it a second glance, if he gave it a second glance his addiction would win over.
The second time he was lucky and it was aspirin, not quite the paracetamol he was reaching for but it would do.
"-like George you are lucky you are still here, if you wasn't my friend for the past decade you would be gone by now but i know it's just your addiction you never use to be like this-" Wilbur continued to babble.
George slowly filled a plastic cup on the sink countertop with tap water and drank it, popping the pill in his mouth the following swallow.
His throat felt dry, as if he had lost the ability to swallow. That reminds him of last nights events, it reminded him of the man passed out on his bed.
Another reminder was down his neck, vibrant purple marks covered a good 40% of his pale neck and even some further down on his collar bone.
"one second Wilbur." George hummed down the phone, hovering a finger over the hang up button.
"have you even listened to anything I said" Wilbur sighed, but it was too late, before he spat enough word out George had press the shiny red hang up button.
For a moment he built up the minerals to storm into the bedroom but it didn't take long.
Just as he expected a tall curly haired man was fast asleep in George's messy bed, he only had some joggers slacked over him and the rest of his clothes we're desperately thrown around the room last night.
After admiring the raven haired man for a split second George tapped his tattooed covered shoulder, Finley, George was pretty sure that was his name. He was kind of cute.
The more he looked at him the more he realised, on his wedding finger he had a thick golden ring adorned with white jewels and on his wrist he had the initials 'F + E' engraved on his skin, further up he had the name 'Elizabeth' drawn on his forearm. George could only presume that is his wife.
Ignoring the fact he just slept with a married man, he tapped his shoulder again more aggressive this time in hopes he wakes up the man.
"Liz.. morning" The man grumbles, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. That's when he opens his eyes, pure panic displayed on his face.
"did we fuck?" the man asked staring at him, a nervous expression displayed on his face and his thinking was jumbled.
Slowly, George nodded and the man got up straight away, not daring to look down at the ring on his left hand so he doesn't feel guilty.
"holy shit, I mean you're cute and all but I'm married" Finley said, slipping his shirt and shoes back on.
"I can tell that now, do you need someone to drop you off?" George curiously asked, slightly amused.
Finley gave him a weak smile and shook his head, "I'll be fine thank you, see ya!" he said leaving the room.
Why did he leave so quickly? George thought to himself, he wasn't that bad was he?
This was how almost every day went like.
After George listened out for the front door closing he started to actually start his day.
With a scoff, George slid on some clothes for early rehearsals. Luckily the studio was only a ten minute walk down the road from him or else the brunette would be doomed, being sat in a taxi this early while your head feels like its been smashed against the wall? No thanks anyone will pass on that, the drivers are always so chatty as well it is too annoying or they are on the phone to a relative shouting in a foreign language.
Out of his messy crowded wardrobe he managed to pull out a baby blue turtle neck and some baggy cargo pants that sat low on his waist.
It wasn't particularly chilly outside so he didn't put a jacket on over the top, although it was raining the previous evening so he put on some ankle boots since they are water proof.
The walk to the studio was quite peaceful, no creeps out or no loud children outside, they wouldn't be out this early it's hardly past ten o'clock.
People say London is quite a gorgeous place, the tall Victorian architecture coating the streets and everything being local was handy. But London is only pretty if you are stopping by, living in London was mayhem, constant fear of crime where ever you go or not even being able to cross a road because of how busy it constantly was isn't the most practical thing in the world.
On top of that, the underground subway system stunk of weed and sewage, defiantly not some thing you want to smell first thing in the morning on your way to work or school.
Ohe studio was located in middle of an industrial state in a small garage like building, the bottom floor was the practice room where all of there instruments were, George's was the large blue drum kit tucked away in the corner.
In the corner of the room was some steep stairs that led to the second floor that was much nicer, that was where the actual recording rooms were and the shabby lounge.
It didn't particularly scream "luxury" but it did them more that enough, definitely an upgrade from Niki's mums garage in London city centre, there was too much noise coming from outside and they wasn't even allowed to be loud or else Niki would get a telling off.
But Niki's mums garage was from when they were young teenagers with no clue how to make music, now they had all grown into a famous indie band that had songs in the top 20 charts on the car radio.
When George's mum heard him on the radio she was more than ecstatic and praised him for months about it, babbling on to all of her Facebook friends about it and long distance relatives who travelled over for dinner to congratulate him. Maybe she was a bit over the top but at end of the day it was her only child.
As George navigated his way around the block of ware houses and the stench of pollution booming out of the factories he came up to what they called the 'studio'. It was quite homely with the spray painted on sign reading "Concord".
Rain from the puddles scattered on the floor splashed up onto the bottom of his cargos, causing some dark patches to surround his ankles. Every few seconds he had to bend down to claw at his ankles since the wet denim irritated the skin was if brushed against him while he strode down the road.
"George! hi" Tubbo smiled as George slipped through the heavy door, George gave a weak forced smile in return before sitting down. God his legs hurt like they had a million daggers stuck out of them.
"hey Tubbo" George smiles weakly before sitting down on the battered leather stool at his drum kit, George was lucky because he was one of the only ones that had a instrument where you can sit down so everyone else apart from tubbo who played piano had to share the old sofa that literally had springs poking out of it.
From upstairs Wilbur's voice echoed down the phone, he had his 'telling off tone' on as George liked to call it, that either meant someone else in the band made a slip up that wasn't George or he was making a serious business contract.
Everyone knew that only George got lectured hard around here so it was obviously some sort of contract, the others were discussing what it could be.
In corner of George's eye he spotted Niki sat there with an amused expression, she managed them so she knew exactly what Wilbur was on about.
The sweet bubble gum haired girl, Niki, was their manager and edited all of the labels, she worked behind the scenes and helped organise everything.
She was polite to anyone and managed to keep the band together, despite this she let Wilbur also take a lot of control over it as well, she covered the music industry side of it while Wilbur covered the actual people of the band itself, making sure they kept their image up.
Wilbur soot, the lead singer of the popular indie band, could be quite a cold man when he tried, his intimidating height and gaze often kept most people in line.Ttowards the public though Wil was seen as some walking, singing teddy bear who adored everyone with his cute wave and breezy curls of hair.
George says that he took 'two faced' quite seriously and is like Jekyll and Hyde, Jekyll on the outside, Hyde on the inside.
Wilbur often babied over tommy, they had a strong brotherly bond and wasn't afraid to attack one another for something little, despite their constant messing around and toy fighting Wilbur had grown to have a soft spot towards the lanky, energetic devil like spirit.
Tommy definitely was the only thing keeping the band together, he could easily bond with anyone and make a strong link.
Beside him at all times was his shy sidekick Tubbo, he was much smaller than Tommy and hid his talent, he only showed his extroverted side once cameras and flashing lights weren't penetrating the shadows where he lingered.
If only the brunette worked up his confidence he could definitely go far single handedly. But he chose not to, he refused to ever break his everlasting bond of loyalty with his friend.
Tubbo adores bees and playing the piano, he loves giving old ladies warm smiles in the street to brighten their long miserable days.
On the other hand the iconic drummer boy George adored smashing wooden sticks down onto drums and loving himself. His ego was way too big for his head and it confidence pumped through his veins a little too hard.
He didn't care what anyone thought of him or what he did, he was numb to embarrassment.
Each of the band's personalities were very different but that's what made their audience so big, their polar opposite characteristics balanced perfectly well like yin-yang and it caused a huge shoot in their views.
It was like sweet and sour mixed together to make the perfect dish, each of them with their own unique style of playing instruments that no one else has ever heard.
"hey what do you reckon Wilbur's on about?" Tommy said, getting up and standing at bottom of the stairs to get a better listen.
"it's going to be something boring like him asking a boiler man to come over and check on things" Tubbo scoffed.
Boiler man, how creative.
"maybe he is finally signing off gogs." Tommy laughed, he instantly fell quiet once he realised no one laughed along and George was digging a dirty glare into his side.
"tommy I was the reason this band started, I'm the reason the band became a hit, also I was here since day one. you wasn't so shut up, Wilbur needs me here" George angrily snapped, waving a feisty finger at him.
Two things George was also known for was his rapid mood swings and his lack of filter when it comes to his words, not giving them a second thought before words come spouting out of his mouth.
Niki calmed the room down before Tommy got to yap back and Tubbo covered tommy's mouth with a hand so he was just left muffling insults into Tubbo's hand. Although him and George got on relatively well they always had small bickers of the tiniest of things.
"fuck you Tommy." George mumbled, nervously spinning the wooden drumstick between his fingers.
Before Tommy got the chance to reply George started aggressively slamming down on his drums a little too hard to drain out his voice and everyone's thoughts. the room fell silent apart from George playing his passion, drums.
After a few minutes of everyone doing their own thing Wilbur walked in, ruffling Tommy's hair up on his way past.
"hey...! " Tommy protested quickly, sliding a hand to his hair or flatten it again. The older one left out a soft chuckle and stood in corner of the room.
Quickly, George stopped playing and all eyes averted to Wilbur who was stood in centre of the room with his hands in his pockets, smiling and nodding at Niki. She squealed in excitement and sat up on the sofa.
The small brunette boy beside Tommy, Tubbo was looking around and questioning everything, no one knew what was going on.
"First of all, can you not bash down on the drums while I'm on the phone, second of all, we are going on tour, around America with a pop band." Wilbur announced.
George felt like gagging right there and then, he felt nauseous all the sudden and looked up at Wilbur, his eyes widened.
Pop band..?
You've got to be joking.
—-
AN
I do not like this chapter at all and I might end up redoing it, I'm not use to third person at all and it is not where my specialty's lie. but from now on the book will be in first person and hopefully better. this chapter was a little too fast moving for my liking and I didn't but as much heart or effort into it as others.
this was just sort of a beginner filler chapter to introduce you to George's band. in other chapters I will dive deeper into the backstory behind concord.
also I literally picked out the name of the band out of a word on the music display in my classroom and I don't even know what I means I failed music.
it was a short chapter sorry
start date: 4th august 2023
end date: 24th august 2023
word count: 2962