A/N: Because I'm insane, I always imagine my character Damien to have the voice of Brandon Flowers, lead singer of the Killers. And thus I created an AU in my mind where Damien was a singer and might include something like this in the actual story... and Fujian was his guitarist...and then suddenly this happened...
I realized that I don't really describe the characters that much, mainly cuz I started writing this for myself... BUT HERE'S A PICTURE!!
Hope you enjoy this randomness... ^^;
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“So how exactly did you two meet?”
Damien Réul opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the happy-go-lucky guitarist sitting next to him on the stage. “We worked in the same field before starting the band together,” Fujian Qing explained quite eagerly, always ready to please their fans with a smile. Damien sighed and pulled on one of his ruby red boots. Fujian had always been the more charismatic of the two anyway.
The teenage girl who had asked the question immediately responded with another, “What field was that?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Fujian replied with a grin and a wink. The girl went bright red and immediately began swooning to her friends. Damien whacked the Chinese man upside the head.
“You’re not funny,” he said.
Fujian shrugged. “They think I am,” he said, motioning to the fans around them, who responded with cheers. Damien responded by whacking Fujian again. It was the stupid guitarist’s idea to have a “chat with fans” after their show. “Chat with fans” translated to “mob scene”. Damien was surprised he hadn’t been tackled off the stage yet. Security was keeping things fairly orderly, fortunately. And the fans weren’t even that loud, compared to during concerts or most other public appearances, at least. Maybe they were just eager to hear their “idols” speak. Damien sighed again. Didn’t improve the situation all that much.
The question-and-answers continued for a while. Most questions were aimed at both of them, and Fujian snagged those instantly, so Damien didn’t have to do much talking and was quite alright with that. Honestly, it couldn’t be over fast enough. He hadn’t eaten dinner yet, plus he was tired. More than once he found himself gazing forlornly at the clock on the wall, pulled back only by a question for him or a friendly push from Fujian that he returned with a well-aimed, “friendly” punch.
“How exactly would you two describe your relationship?” asked one fan, another girl probably in her twenties.
Fujian smiled wide. “Oh, our relationship is great! Right, Damien?”
“You wish.”
The guitarist put on a face of mock-hurt. “That’s not true!” he whined, sniffling a bit. He turned to the crowd. “Don’t listen to him, that’s not true at all!” Then his face switched back to that goofy grin, and he wrapped an arm around Damien’s shoulders and pulled him close. “We’re the absolute best of friends! We’re just inseparable!”
Damien pushed Fujian right off the stage.
