whiskey, smoke and aces high

bandcamp

A lot's been changin' lately and I can't tell
If it's me or if it's everybody else

It's far grander, that's for sure. The room has a vaulted ceiling and can probably seat about 2000 between the floor and the balconies. Remi looks wildly out of place even if his music rises and falls with utter ease. For all his talent and his aspirations, the musician would sooner be playing in a small bar where he could throw on a jacket at the end of a set and have a beer at the bar without being swarmed. Ronin will likely have had to push his way through the crowd outside who've been lined up since about noon.

"We good, Charlie?" Remi asks into his mic which crackles with feedback and thus answers his own question. Sighing, Remi sings a few bars of a Taylor Swift song until Charlie has worked out the levels with his mic. Raising an appreciative hand before setting his guitar onto its stand, Remi squints out into the theatre, blinking stupidly as the lights are turned down with a mechanical thunk.

'I said no autographs until after the show.' He calls once he's able to make out Ronin. It does take a moment given his friend's dark hair and dark shirt, this poor attempt at humour a reflex meant to hide how nervous he suddenly felt to be here in this place, in this theatre, with this man. Shuffling himself off the stage, Remi walks down one of the aisles toward the back of the theatre toward Ronin, his lips moving slightly as he mumbles something over and over to himself under his breath.

"Hey." He says awkwardly, cheeks flushed (probably because of the nerves and being under the lighting), torn between a high-five and a hug, and so just shoving his hands into his pockets instead.

we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses
So stop and sm?ll the fuckin' roses

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!