RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
He can't say much for the Taylor Swift song, but the man singing it is fine enough, and even better once the mic has its shit all worked out. Ronin is also left blinking as the lights go down all of a sudden, rubbing at his forehead and letting his hands drop to his sides when Bandcamp finally calls out to him and hops down off the stage. "What about dinner?" he asks, as if that would be less effort than an autograph - and honestly it should be, given that they've already sort of made plans.
"Hey," he greets, having been more than geared up for a clap on the shoulder or something suitably platonic, so to find Remi's hands in his pockets as well is an even further step back than expected. "This place is swish. I swear that crowd out there tried to mug me when they saw me coming in here, by the way. Your fans are vicious."
"Hey," he greets, having been more than geared up for a clap on the shoulder or something suitably platonic, so to find Remi's hands in his pockets as well is an even further step back than expected. "This place is swish. I swear that crowd out there tried to mug me when they saw me coming in here, by the way. Your fans are vicious."
show me your darkness.
