Will you always be mine?
Jan. 16th, 2023 10:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oprorsk_sodeFor What are we? moments 6 looking for them in a crowd
Mikkel had gotten out of work early which meant he was arriving at the venue just after the end of the show, instead of Sigurd coming by the club to wait for him. It was a rare thing and tonight Mikkel was dressed to the nines, in slick leather pants and matching jacket. His current club was high end and demanded a better attire than his usual.
Of course, the young Dane was looking for Sigurd and Fredrik, mostly Sigurd for the moment since they had planned to get dinner after his night was over. It would be a surprise for the Dane to show up but that all sank when he saw Sigurd. As usual, a group of giggling, young, pretty women had him surrounded. This was one of the reasons Mikkel rarely came to venues anymore. It hurt his heart to the point he could feel the stabbing in his chest. He tried to tell himself that these girls were like the guys in the club. They were an attachment to the fame but nothing more, of no importance. However, here in Los Angeles where the standard was a rockstar with a pretty woman on his arm, knowing it and feeling it were two very different things.
Torden's words about people needing to see him to know he was there were ringing in his ears but he couldn't listen to them. His hands were shaking and cold as he paced in the space just out of sight and in the shadows. The Dane thought this might be a panic attack. It felt like what Rekker described though he never mentioned the burning eyes and lump in the throat that felt like tears were about to rip out of his eyes at any moment.
The hand on his shoulder caused him to jump and nearly cry out. If he wasn't so worried about Sigurd noticing him, or worse the women, he would have screamed from the fright. Fredrik's smiling face didn't make anything better. The lump got worse as he realized he could have them both taken away by someone prettier, someone who was a woman. Wasn't that what rockstars wanted?
“What's wr...” Fredrik's words trailed off. He must have noticed Mikkel chain smoking, biting at his long, fake nails, while staring at the women.. even more than a few moments ago... surrounding the dark haired Swede. “You should be out there.”
He stared at Fredrik when he felt the encouraging and gently friendly push. The panic made his ears fill up with the sound of his heartbeat. “I...” His eyes flashed back out to the group around the other bassist. “I can't.. no... I..”
Fredrik gave him a hug and he almost lost control of the tears that were threatening to ruin his make up. The Dane wiggled out of the hug because it brought a strange, claustrophobic feeling that he wasn't used to feeling.
“Mikkel.” Fredrik saying his name pulled his eyes back to the blonde beside him. “You'll be the cutest.. prettiest one out there.”
Mikkel shook his head only to have Fredrik kiss his cheek and oust him out of the shadows. His eyes fixed on Fredrik for a moment before he looked back out and noticed that Sigurd had saw him. What was he going to do? Slack jawed, Mikkel looked to Fredrik in terror as he mouthed something about going out there. He had to despite the terror.
A deep breath and standing up taller, Mikkel felt like that first night he went out on stage as a kid. When all the people seemed so big and terrifying while waving money at him and he knew he had to keep going. Then it was for Rik, now was for himself and that was infinitely harder. It was almost impossible but he could see Sigurd out of the corner of his eye, or maybe just feel that the Swede was looking his direction. Mikkel spun around and through sheer force of will, or something, fear. It was definitely fear and precision muscle memory of how to strut down a stage when he was so terrified that he worried about fainting. It took everything to walk the distance between where he had been standing and to the crowd. The crowd he would have to push through to get to Sigurd in the center. Eyes down he wove his way through the women but with his height, especially in heels, it meant some of them made eye contact with him. He hated it and felt the desire to run and hide so strong that the shaking started again. His legs felt unsteady but it was too late to run now as the sea of women closed in around him.
As soon as he came through the center, Mikkel grabbed on to Sigurd's hand like he needed pulled out of a storm angered ocean. He grabbed on so tightly that Sigurd flinched but he didn't pull away from the death grip Mikkel now had on his hand. Sigurd threw his smoke down to push back Mikkel's blonde hair that had gotten extra wild from his frantic pacing. It was the kiss to his cheek that reddened his cheeks and had him turn into Sigurd, hiding and feeling vulnerable blushing in front of all these girls. Through the haze of fear and anxiety he heard Sigurd introduce him as his partner. The sighs and moans of disappointment felt empowering but he clung to that word partner. It meant so much, and not just the idea of them being together but the underlying notion that Sigurd was protecting his work by refraining from revealing he was a.. well he and not a girl as everyone in the club thought.
Finally, his grip loosened and he leaned into Sigurd, so close that he could feel the slight dampness left in his hair from the shower after his set a couple hours ago. The anxiety was still there but the fluttering of affection and shyness were quickly overwhelming it, especially when he saw the flash of someone taking a picture of him with Sigurd, holding hands and standing close. The Dane was growing up and learning he was going to have to get used to this attention if he wanted to stay with Sigurd.
Another moment passed before Mikkel let go of Sigurd's hand to lean closer. Instantly, the bassist's arm was around his waist and the hand spread over his hip caused another wave of heat and redness to flush his cheeks. Then he looked up and things changed so fast it startled the young Dane. The giggling young women, so close, touching Sigurd brought up other feelings besides fear. He felt jealous, angry, possessive maybe. Mikkel had never felt like this before but it had his arm sliding around Sigurd's shoulders, pulling him in and locking eyes on the women closest to Sigurd's other side. Whatever his expression was, Sigurd gave him a worried look that quickly faded to a devious sort of smile. Mikkel had seen that exact smile before but only when he was bratty to others who deserved it. Sigurd's hand stroked his hip and another rush of heat flushed his cheeks and swirled with all that jealousy.
The bassist slipped away and Mikkel felt his heart lodge up in his throat when he glanced down to see Sigurd moving away. However, he grinned as that calloused hand grabbed on to his and the Swede told these girls he had promised to take him out to dinner. They had to go. Mikkel all but ran to press himself against Sigurd as they held hands and headed toward the back so the two of them could go to dinner. Mikkel still felt the worry about not being good enough but this boosted his confidence. Maybe Fredrik was right, he was the prettiest.
Mikkel had gotten out of work early which meant he was arriving at the venue just after the end of the show, instead of Sigurd coming by the club to wait for him. It was a rare thing and tonight Mikkel was dressed to the nines, in slick leather pants and matching jacket. His current club was high end and demanded a better attire than his usual.
Of course, the young Dane was looking for Sigurd and Fredrik, mostly Sigurd for the moment since they had planned to get dinner after his night was over. It would be a surprise for the Dane to show up but that all sank when he saw Sigurd. As usual, a group of giggling, young, pretty women had him surrounded. This was one of the reasons Mikkel rarely came to venues anymore. It hurt his heart to the point he could feel the stabbing in his chest. He tried to tell himself that these girls were like the guys in the club. They were an attachment to the fame but nothing more, of no importance. However, here in Los Angeles where the standard was a rockstar with a pretty woman on his arm, knowing it and feeling it were two very different things.
Torden's words about people needing to see him to know he was there were ringing in his ears but he couldn't listen to them. His hands were shaking and cold as he paced in the space just out of sight and in the shadows. The Dane thought this might be a panic attack. It felt like what Rekker described though he never mentioned the burning eyes and lump in the throat that felt like tears were about to rip out of his eyes at any moment.
The hand on his shoulder caused him to jump and nearly cry out. If he wasn't so worried about Sigurd noticing him, or worse the women, he would have screamed from the fright. Fredrik's smiling face didn't make anything better. The lump got worse as he realized he could have them both taken away by someone prettier, someone who was a woman. Wasn't that what rockstars wanted?
“What's wr...” Fredrik's words trailed off. He must have noticed Mikkel chain smoking, biting at his long, fake nails, while staring at the women.. even more than a few moments ago... surrounding the dark haired Swede. “You should be out there.”
He stared at Fredrik when he felt the encouraging and gently friendly push. The panic made his ears fill up with the sound of his heartbeat. “I...” His eyes flashed back out to the group around the other bassist. “I can't.. no... I..”
Fredrik gave him a hug and he almost lost control of the tears that were threatening to ruin his make up. The Dane wiggled out of the hug because it brought a strange, claustrophobic feeling that he wasn't used to feeling.
“Mikkel.” Fredrik saying his name pulled his eyes back to the blonde beside him. “You'll be the cutest.. prettiest one out there.”
Mikkel shook his head only to have Fredrik kiss his cheek and oust him out of the shadows. His eyes fixed on Fredrik for a moment before he looked back out and noticed that Sigurd had saw him. What was he going to do? Slack jawed, Mikkel looked to Fredrik in terror as he mouthed something about going out there. He had to despite the terror.
A deep breath and standing up taller, Mikkel felt like that first night he went out on stage as a kid. When all the people seemed so big and terrifying while waving money at him and he knew he had to keep going. Then it was for Rik, now was for himself and that was infinitely harder. It was almost impossible but he could see Sigurd out of the corner of his eye, or maybe just feel that the Swede was looking his direction. Mikkel spun around and through sheer force of will, or something, fear. It was definitely fear and precision muscle memory of how to strut down a stage when he was so terrified that he worried about fainting. It took everything to walk the distance between where he had been standing and to the crowd. The crowd he would have to push through to get to Sigurd in the center. Eyes down he wove his way through the women but with his height, especially in heels, it meant some of them made eye contact with him. He hated it and felt the desire to run and hide so strong that the shaking started again. His legs felt unsteady but it was too late to run now as the sea of women closed in around him.
As soon as he came through the center, Mikkel grabbed on to Sigurd's hand like he needed pulled out of a storm angered ocean. He grabbed on so tightly that Sigurd flinched but he didn't pull away from the death grip Mikkel now had on his hand. Sigurd threw his smoke down to push back Mikkel's blonde hair that had gotten extra wild from his frantic pacing. It was the kiss to his cheek that reddened his cheeks and had him turn into Sigurd, hiding and feeling vulnerable blushing in front of all these girls. Through the haze of fear and anxiety he heard Sigurd introduce him as his partner. The sighs and moans of disappointment felt empowering but he clung to that word partner. It meant so much, and not just the idea of them being together but the underlying notion that Sigurd was protecting his work by refraining from revealing he was a.. well he and not a girl as everyone in the club thought.
Finally, his grip loosened and he leaned into Sigurd, so close that he could feel the slight dampness left in his hair from the shower after his set a couple hours ago. The anxiety was still there but the fluttering of affection and shyness were quickly overwhelming it, especially when he saw the flash of someone taking a picture of him with Sigurd, holding hands and standing close. The Dane was growing up and learning he was going to have to get used to this attention if he wanted to stay with Sigurd.
Another moment passed before Mikkel let go of Sigurd's hand to lean closer. Instantly, the bassist's arm was around his waist and the hand spread over his hip caused another wave of heat and redness to flush his cheeks. Then he looked up and things changed so fast it startled the young Dane. The giggling young women, so close, touching Sigurd brought up other feelings besides fear. He felt jealous, angry, possessive maybe. Mikkel had never felt like this before but it had his arm sliding around Sigurd's shoulders, pulling him in and locking eyes on the women closest to Sigurd's other side. Whatever his expression was, Sigurd gave him a worried look that quickly faded to a devious sort of smile. Mikkel had seen that exact smile before but only when he was bratty to others who deserved it. Sigurd's hand stroked his hip and another rush of heat flushed his cheeks and swirled with all that jealousy.
The bassist slipped away and Mikkel felt his heart lodge up in his throat when he glanced down to see Sigurd moving away. However, he grinned as that calloused hand grabbed on to his and the Swede told these girls he had promised to take him out to dinner. They had to go. Mikkel all but ran to press himself against Sigurd as they held hands and headed toward the back so the two of them could go to dinner. Mikkel still felt the worry about not being good enough but this boosted his confidence. Maybe Fredrik was right, he was the prettiest.
