the au is so dumb in my opinion but the writing's half decent
***
"You called me?" Brice chirped as he entered the tour bus. He was immediately greeted with the stench of cigarettes and coffee. He grunted, trying to adjust to the sudden change of smell. Wheezing, he seemed to have stood in a lounge-type room. Jason and Adam stared at the blond, wide eyed and smiling.
"Hey Brice!" Adam greeted, beckoning him to come forward. He did as such, nearly tripping over the multiple comic books and action figures that were sprawled onto the floor.
"God, smells terrible in here," Brice huffed.
"We've been living in this moving prison cell for two months, obviously it's going to smell after a while," Brice didn't even notice Ty was in the room, he'd been sitting on the floor behind the couch.
"So, what's up?" Brice had asked, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs while standing.
"You know our bassist and our backup vocalist?" Adam asked. "I don't think you remember him—"
"Oh, you mean Seto?" Brice questioned. "Yeah, I know him. We hung out just two days ago when you arrived here."
"What, you know him?" Jason interrupted in disbelief.
"Yeah, we literally went to high school together," Brice rolled his eyes.
"He's pretty sick and he's refusing to relax," Adam released an exasperated sigh. "When we had a show yesterday night, he has this weird stage zen where he's totally alright, then when the show's over he's vomiting and extremely ill."
"Maybe it's jet lag—" Ty was immediately shut up by a slap to the face (from Jason, of course).
"Just help him, alright?" Adam pleaded. "I know you're good with helping people so."
Brice shook his head, "Where is he?"
"Either in the studio or in the bunks, just open that door and it'll lead you to the bunks, second door from the bunks is the studio," Brice nodded his head and headed towards the door. He gazed back for a moment to see Adam focused on his phone and Jason laying on his shoulder. Ty was staring right at him, a small frown curved on his pale lips. The blond quivered and quickly opened the door, then shut it behind him.
The "bunks" looked painfully small and uncomfortable. They were more like six rectangular grooves in the walls with mattresses that had barely fit in each one. The only privacy they had were pale white curtains—no wonder they were always excited for hotel stays. Brice glanced at each "bunk" as he strolled down the aisle; all were empty. Of course Seto wouldn't be relaxing—that was basically his personality. He snickered to himself remembering the time where Seto had finished his whole essay—that was due within four weeks.
He noticed the door labeled "STUDIO" at the end of the room (it was neon colored, almost like an "OPEN" sign—very annoying in Bride's opinion). He grunted as he turned the doorknob. The door had been oddly heavy for a wooden one, or maybe there was just something blocking the entrance. He barely managed to squeeze through the small gap that the door had provided. Grunting, his eyes averted around the room.
The recording studio was small, extremely small actually. It was costed towards the back of the bus after all. There were multiple windows that didn't have curtains on the three bus walls. There were posters of random bands hanging around, such as "The Pack." It was strange to see—Crafted wasn't very found of The Pack (Mitchell and Jerome had left Crafted to make their own band, even stealing some songs as well).
Brice gazed toward the floor to see what was blocking the door. It multiple lounging chairs leaned against the door, as well as a photo of, oddly, duo artists Dan and Phil (Brice couldn't remember their band name, but he knew Phil played the drums and Dan was the lead vocalist; he also played piano). Brice automatically assumed it was Seto who had moved all the chairs to prevent any of the guys coming in. Yeah, that ultimately failed.
Brice turned around once more to see a lump of blankets on the floor, along with disheveled brunet hair. He was quick to pick up the blankets and toss them aside, exposing the boy. Seto hissed, sitting straight up and clutching his notebook in his clammy hands. Brice sat down, giggling as he wrapped the blankets around himself.
"What are you doing here?" Seto mumbled, giggling at the blankets in Brice's grasp. He toppled over onto the floor, sniffling, then sat back up. He lifted up the blanket then huddled close, letting the blanket cover his whole body.
"The question is, what are you doing here?" Brice smirked, hiding himself in the blanket too.
"I'm working on the new album," Seto replied.
"Didn't you just come out with a new album a couple months ago?"
"Yeah, but—"
"You're on tour, give it a break."
Seto shook his head. Within the darkness he could see that Seto had already placed down the notebook and his pen. Brice lifted up the blanket and Seto shivered. This is when he noticed how sickly Seto had looked. His skin was paler than usual, his eyes were bloodshot, his whole face was bright red, and he was very stiff and tense. "Want me to get you some chicken soup?"
"I'm not sick," Seto argued, nose stuffed. "Just tired, that's all."
"Well, I'm your best friend of course, and best friends always know if their best friend is sick or not," Brice shook his head, chuckling a bit.
"The MTV Music Video Awards are happening tonight," Seto bit his lip, "I have to be there. I even have my suit ready. Adam and Ty really wants to show Mitch and Jer—er The Pack what we're made of. I'm just tired, that's all. It's nothing a coffee can't fix."
***
Brice spent the rest of the day talking to Seto, transfixed on his words and his silly smiles. The chairs that had been put back and the weird photo of Dan and Phil (Brice think they called their fans "Ladders" which was pretty strange; he also vaguely remembers their supposed band name—Phan apparently) had been put back.
Of course, the time had come where Seto had to leave for the awards ceremony. He had offered, or just vaguely suggested, for Brice to tag along, but the Aussie would have just felt out of place. He did, however, stay in the tour bus and kept an eye on the T.V. The event would be streamed on T.V. — right?
***
this is where i lost inspiration whoops
i may do a live stream next week but idk
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