this is screaming !

[zephyr drew clayton]

There was something about the way hundreds of screams all being amplified by one room that seemed to calm down the most nervous person in the dressing room that was feeling flight with nervousness about having to go and stand in front of all those people. But not one soul knew you personally. Well, maybe a few but those were only the people that weren’t packed tightly in with the many other bodies crammed into the venue space to get a glimpse of what this life of music was really like. Maybe that’s what seemed so calming to the boy who was currently leaning over the counter top toward the reflective mirror and staring hard at his reflection. Zephyr could see the flaws. They were all there; plain and simple for him to point out. But now wasn’t any time to be hating himself for how he looked or how he thought he looked. Now it was time to forget who he was just do what he liked doing best. Music was his one escape that didn’t come with any side effects. Sure, there was the reactions to the fame and the new found spy of eyes that seemed to always be lurking, but other wise he enjoyed what he was doing on tour. Zephyr loved being able to see other people lighten with what ever they were hearing because that way, he knew he was at least relating to someone in the way that music seemed to lift him, too. For someone who always seemed so alone for the past few years, music was his one connection that brought him closer with thousands of people. He wasn’t just sharing it with a few friends or people he thought he could get close to. These were complete strangers willing to give up a few hours of their time to come and enjoy music in the same way Zephyr had been since he had learned how to get the perfect tune out of an acoustic.

So, the soft sigh that drove from his lips then as he capped the eyeliner and lifted the corner of the cloth to dot away a little smudge was actually comforted. He was really comfortable in his skin; for once in a while. This was his escape; his fix of his addiction that he needed to survive on. He cleared his throat and grabbed the comb after dropping the eyeliner. The aerosol can of hair spray twirled around his head in his other free frail hand to get those caramel locks posed in the perfect position that he was so arrogant about getting perfect. But that was who Zephyr was. He was a perfectionist at their finest. He was never really satisfied with his work; no matter what it was. He always thought something could be better. But he was always a hypocrite against those who couldn’t accept what they had done was good. Ah, the wonders of having a multiple mind. Those hazel eyes stared back at him as he did one more once over of his appearance before he stepped back and forced his eyes away. Yes, he was finished. There was nothing more to improve on, no matter how easily he could pick out the few things that still needed work. He could hear; or more or less feel the roar of the crowd waiting eagerly at the stage front. It was then when his heart finally began to thrust against his chest in an erratic beat to warn him was what was about to happen. But Zephyr was going to step into the situation with his shoulders square and his chin held high. This was his time to enjoy life and his time to give other people a reason to love who they were for what they were instead of hating themselves for what they weren’t. Swallowing back on a slightly dry throat, his eyes caught a glimpse of that dark hair and that overly tight white shirt that showed every curve a delicious body could have.

Zephyr’s eyes lingered over his boyfriend’s backside; watching he was directed into what costume for that performance and given a quick prep of what was about to happen. The smile that wavered over his lips then couldn’t be contained. Knowing he was doing this with the person he admired most made everything even better. So Zephyr tore his eyes away and directed himself to the sound tech to retrieve the crisply cleaned guitar that fit a little too easily into that boney shoulder of his. Listening to the stage lights slam on from the power box that a security and stage director were currently occupying; he took the time to take in the way the crowd seemed to change. They knew what was getting closer. They knew what was about to happen. They were going to soon be graced with one hell of a rock show; or was that Zephyr actually being a little too cocky and confiding in himself and his bands mates a little too much? (Although he would never doubt Jayden, that is.) Inhaling through his nose, he listened to the stage director order them into play. He felt the brush of those hands; sure to be comforting as he directed his lanky body forward toward the stage entrance. The second he felt the lights on his face, a smile weaved it’s way against his lips while his fingers pressed to the metal cords that fit a little too well into his calloused fingers. Zephyr’s eyes slipped closed, feeling the weight of the lights against his face and the pressure of those screams beating along with his racing heart beat. The first song was always the hardest and the easiest at the same time. The music flowed through him, but it seemed like he couldn’t really focus and that was always the easiest time to fuck up and leave the whole band off. But in high hopes that that wasn’t going to happen, he tilted his head down and felt his bangs fall over his eye to temporarily shade the mixture of make up from the heavy stage lights.

It only took about two songs before the heat of working his body around the stage began to take toll on the creative design plastered onto his face that was all too removable. No matter how much water and sweat proof make up he tried to buy and ensure that it worked, there was always a fault to one of them that seemed to trigger all the rest to just cascade along with the other small smudges. Zephyr was always careful to never touch his face. After walking off stage with near black fingers and a horrid ruined make up job, he had learned from the first time. It was easier to keep himself from thinking about the tickle of sweat dripping from his hair or his forehead to his nose and sliding down his soft skin when he put his all into the music. Of course. The music. It was always the escape.

Stepping back from the microphone after letting his voice try it’s best; but obviously failing to harmonize with Jayden’s, he focused on the quick movements of his numb fingers over the thick strings. That was one thing Zephyr had never been able to understand. Their voices were so different yet they manages to make them mix without having too much of a problem. Of course, there was always a few squabbles here and there but nothing that ever turned into a big problem. But Zephyr had to admit; maybe he wasn’t just trying for the music anymore. The band was his perfect kind of rehab from all the shit he’d had to go through, but he wasn’t going to lie. Ever since Jayden had turned up and they had more or less turned into something that wasted to supposed to turn at all, he was a little more into other things than just music. The lighting change snapped his focus from his fingers to look up at the many faces tossing adoring smiling toward them on stage. Zephyr turned his skinny frame, facing Jayden and darting a smile before he crossed his feet and stepped forward to let his warm lips press to the refreshingly cold metal of the microphone face. Hearing the dull sound of his voice in the back of his mind, he slipped his e yes closed again and focused on what he was singing and how his hand had to move over the strings. But he didn’t need to focus. This was the one thing that came to him so naturally. Zephyr didn’t just have a talent; he had the way of making everything look effortless when really, he wasn’t doing something that was really that simple. It wasn’t just him though. He’d gotten plenty of help since the band had been on tour. He didn’t just take credit for everything he didn’t perfect or try to perfect all to himself. Zephyr was far too easy of a person to be that selfish and egotistic. Ha. The day he took the time to brag about something would probably make a lot of people pay to see.

The way his thoughts happened to get so distracted when he was sitting here in front of all these people was a little frightening. Yeah, his focus should have been on something more relevant to what he was doing but honestly? Zephyr felt like he couldn’t be bothered. He was enjoying himself too much to try too hard. Besides, he knew the song well enough to get through it on auto pilot. His body easily stepped forward when he needed to assist with the quick acceleration of lyrics and it also stepped back when he was allowed to simply the space he had to himself. Yes, there was the temptation to invade that invisible barrier that was keeping him from being closer to Jayden, but really he didn’t want to take the chance of getting too distracted. Zephyr wouldn’t flatter himself; nor would he lie. Jayden was the main reason why his thoughts seemed to just draw blank. You could ask him what his name was when those hands were against his skin and he wouldn’t have a clue. Silently, a secretive smile lifted against his plush lips and he allowed himself to sneak a peak over at the singer. Once again, his eyes scanned down that frame with the normal feeling of affection strengthening inside his chest to make his heart rate skip to a hyper active beat that was driven by just a simple image of another person. Yeah. Zephyr was more than in too deep. He was in over his head alright. Way in. But that was okay. His still had plenty of air left as long as Jayden was around. Though he was very dependant on the other boy, let’s not forget how long Zephyr had lived his life believe that isolation was the easiest way to go. Really, his time spent with Jayden had a lot of catching up to do.

But that could way.

His fingers worked their way through the end of the song, feeling his body easily sway with the heavy weight of the guitar to assist in the way his feet carried him around the platform with that smile more of a showy type grin as he slipped the pick down the tight strings to get the perfect sound for the finish. Zephyr felt his chin dip with acceptance and follow while the song jerked to a halt. Not a beat later were they being bombarded by many hands slapping together and voices aching out of peoples mouths to shower them with noise. His spidery fingers slipped the guitar pick into place on his microphone before he stepped back toward the drum platform to grab his bottle of water. Zephyr’s fingers clasped around the bottle while his free hand untwisted the cap to quench that slight ache in the back of his throat. He downed the water, being careful to take in in slowly so he wasn’t tempted to just let it ride back up his throat if he moved too fast or turned the wrong way. Placing the cap back in place and then following with the bottle, his eyes subconsciously found themselves hooked on Jayden again as he adjusted the guitar over his body and returned to his position on the front of his stage; fully prepared for the next drift of a song to start with the bass line giving them the que for the start. When it didn’t come, Zephyr’s soft hazel eyes turned up to glance over in curiosity.

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STATUS finished.
WORDS 2,124 words.
COMMENTS i wrote this from 2:40 to 3:10. yeah. that's over 2,000 words in a half hour. i love zephyr and jayden. they give me so much fucking muse. and i actually like this post. i rambled some yeah, but i thought it was well put together. and now i'm going to bed.
TAGS jayden.
CREDITS yeah, all this and that up there? i made it. i don't own the picture of ross, i just cropped it and made it look better.
MUSIC the world would never do - cobra starship

[jayden]

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we like to watch you laugh.

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(no time to think of consequence.)

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Jayden was obnoxious.

To anyone that had ever met the young singer, that was pretty clear.

A constant need for movement, noise, and interaction ran thick through his blood, carried throughout his veins to every bone and muscle in his pretty little body. He could annoy people for hours with his constant need for conversation. He probably was going to die from a Red Bull over-dose someday rather than the typical heart attack or stroke. He enjoyed staying up far past the normal mark (2AM was his “quiet time”), and he probably ingested more sugar than a six-year-old who had just discovered the wonders of candy bars or chocolate chip cookies.

Perhaps, though, his ADD and hyperactivity were what made him such a good frontman. Performing, being on that stage, bouncing and jumping around in that boundlessly energetic way of his, belting out melodies and lyrics into the mic was a part of him: such a big part of him, that it hurt to think about it not being a part of him. Music had always been his escape. Yeah, yeah: cliché, cliché. But, it was truer than true for Jayden Davison, and he was never going to deny the fact that he needed the notes, the screaming crowd, and the rush of performing like he needed air to breathe. Ever since he was little, music had always been safe. It wasn’t “sinful” or “anti-Mormon” or whatever crap his parents threw at him when he did something wrong (which was often). His father was the one who first encouraged him to pick up that guitar when he was six, after all, and that branched off to Jayden growing up and exploring every possible instrument he could get his hands on. It was a beautiful thing, the music. It offered such freedom, such opportunity to a boy who needed choices, needed constant room for change and options; he couldn’t be held back, couldn’t be kept in a fence, in the boundary of a “church” or a “religion.” Of course, that little fact cost him the very family that had first introduced him to his passion, but, hey. No one ever said life was perfect, right?

So, it was only fitting that Jayden was the lead singer of a band; he lived and breathed music, and the energy required for the job wasn’t hard for to him to come by. Though, he had started out as a sound tech, touring with his ex-boyfriend’s band all around the US with some indie label Jayden couldn’t even remember the name of, now, but “behind-the-scenes” wasn’t for him. He always found himself standing on the edge of the stage every night, staring out at the crowd illuminated by the bright, fluorescent lights, and he always found himself sighing, wishing he could be the one out there, singing his heart out, giving something to those kids that so desperately needed to let go for a little while. He knew what it was like to feel lost, a little helpless, when the only answer seemed to be a song. He sympathized, empathized with them, and he wanted to get that out there: get his passion, get his understanding to as many people as he possibly could.

And, being Jayden, made that dream happen.

It didn’t take long for him to slip into the role of frontman at all. He was a natural at the job, really, with his boundless energy and bright smile. He wasn’t even nervous when Love Is Like A Relapse had their first gig; he remembered that night all too clearly, but nerves were never a part of his performances. That he was so thankful for. A frontman had to be fearless; he had to get in the fans faces, to sing out songs and be the one to really “bring it” if the rest of the band wasn’t up to putting on a super show that particular night. Or, at least, that was all what Jayden believed; he could never “tone it down.” He was obnoxious, he was loud, he was flirty, and he knew it. The fans loved it, and it was never hard for Jayden to be any of what they loved, because that was just who he was (not to get too cocky, or anything). He was never really putting on a show. He was just being himself, because he was obnoxious, loud, flirty, and the music did run through his body like blood.

Though, that didn’t mean didn’t try to get in “prime shape” before a show to be in his best “front-man” mode.

And “prime shape,” of course, meant drinking three Capri Suns, two Kool-Aids, and one Red Bull with about ten minutes to show time.

His bandmates were going to kill him later when he was racing around the bus and jumping on the couch and blabbering about things that probably didn’t make sense at all.

Oh, well, Jayden figured as he inhaled deeply, seated on the ratty back longue couch, listening to the dull roar of the crowd awaiting them. One hand rested on his right leg as it held a half a can of Red Bull, and the other just rested atop his left knee as it bounced up and down madly with the sugar-rush shaking of the limb. His entire body was pulsing with excitement for their upcoming set along with the millions of grams of sucrose and caffeine he had just ingested, and he was having issues staying still. Luckily, he was all nice and dressed (he didn’t have the more…elaborate costume of the bunch, unlike Zeph, who seemed to adore putting as many roses and frills and 1800s style clothing on his skinny body as he possibly could) in a tight white top and an even tighter pair of black pants, makeup and hair already styled; he didn’t exactly have many “last minute” things to do besides getting miced up.

“Jayden, come here for a second?”

The voice of the lead sound tech suddenly rang through his ears, and the singer quickly obeyed, standing up and half-hopping, half-skipping over to the doorway that lead to the dressing room. Immediately, once the boy stepped inside to the other area, a soft smile arose on his lips. There stood his boyfriend/guitarist of the band (which could be both somewhat frustrating and completely amazing at the same time), newly eyeliner-coated, beautiful hazel eyes staring at the huge mirror in concentration as he finished the last few touches on his already perfectly-styled hair. Jayden let his eyes linger a little longer than they probably should have on Zephyr’s pretty little face, and for the first real time that night, he felt his stomach flutter with a bit of nervousness (or maybe love— something along those lines). Thankfully, Zephyr didn’t notice him watching, and Jayden decided to hold back the smart, “you’re still getting ready?” comment he was about to playfully throw out. He knew Zephyr got a bit self-conscious and distracted when people watched him get ready, and Jayden didn’t want to worry him while he was working on getting every little thing perfect like he always did.

Instead, with a soft breath out, the singer directed his attention back to the sound tech, and the other man proceeded to tell him something about his microphone, the sound settings for tonight’s show, double-checking the set list, blah, blah, blah…Jayden was really only half-listening. He nodded his head at all the appropriate places, letting out t he occasional “mhmm,”” shifting his weight from one foot to another as he watched the tech, looking much more interested than he really was. His mind was still pretty numb with the whirling excitement of what was about to happen, and of course with the Red Bull. He was half-aware that Zeph finished up his makeup and hair at some point during his little “run-down” of the show, and Jayden had to resist the urge to turn and watch his boyfriend walk out.

“You know, I really wish you’d actually listen to me one of these days, Davison,” the tech murmured, suddenly, as he finished his speech about the logistics of the show. A smirk was on his face though, and Jayden easily returned it.

“Ah, you love me, anyway,” the singer replied with a soft wink (because, yeah, even as obnoxious as he was, the crew and his bandmates loved him and Jayden wasn’t going to deny that), and then the tech then looked right back at the twenty -year-old, suddenly looking quite serious.

“Are you still planning on, you know, doing what you told me you were gonna do, earlier? We have to make sure the soundboard guys know so they don’t expect a song and worry about the tech and shit.”

Jayden’s throat suddenly felt dry.

For the first time that night, for the first time maybe ever, Jayden Davison really, truly, felt uneasy. His typical fearlessness was suddenly completely gone. Tongue darting out and moving across his chapped lips, the singer shifted his weight. He was silent for a moment; the tech gave him an odd look, because, seriously, when was Jayden Davison ever silent? But, easily catching the other man’s confusion, Jayden immediately re-gained his composure, shooting a smile at the tech as if nothing had even happened. “Yeah,” Jayden replied, finally, his voice sounding strangely subdued and far-away to his own ears. “Yeah, I am. Just let the other guys know it’ll be right after the first four songs, and I’ve got a hold of everything else, ‘kay?”

With a small, mocking salute (people seemed to enjoy playing off of Jayden’s rather strong, “front-man” attitude), the sound manager turned away, marching over toward another techie, whereupon he started ordering some final amp checks or something or the other, and Jayden was left to himself. Since Zeph had walked out, no one else was in the dressing room, and Jayden suddenly felt very, very…alone. Which, as one could probably expect with Jayden Davison, the man who constantly needed conversation or cuddles, “alone” was not a good thing. The singer just stood there, for a few moments, eyeliner-coated eyes scanning the room blankly, even sadly for a bit, his mind whizzing at 100 mph as he listened to the muffled screams of excitement from the crowd awaiting him and his band to take the stage.

Jayden knew that the anxiousness he was feeling wasn’t going to be a long-term thing (and thank God—it was kind of driving him insane to feel all uncharacteristically nervous like this); it was just due to what he had planned for tonight’s show in particular. And, now, as Jayden exhaled deeply, moving forward in a few hasty, nervous steps to the couch, he realized the fact he was alone, as much as he didn’t particularly enjoy it, was a good thing. Swooping down, leaning over the couch to reach behind where his bright red suitcase rested, packed with a set of post-show clothes, the dark-haired boy began to rummage around. Soon, his calloused fingertips brushed over the item he was looking for, the soft, velvet-y texture sending a new bout of nerves down his spine, and he swallowed lightly, plush bottom lip tucking under his teeth as he straightened back up. In his hand, he held a small, navy blue box, and after a moment of just staring at it, Jayden gently flipped the top open. There, encased in the soft, protective fabric of the case, lay a simple, shiny silver band.

Okay, so maybe Jayden Davison was crazy, but he really, really, really wanted to ask Zephyr Drew Clayton to marry him.

They’d been together for only about a year, yeah (and probably not even that), but he’d known Zeph for more than two. The boy was his best friend, and he loved him with all his heart, more than anyone or anything else in the universe. Call it cliché or whatever you wished, but he knew he wanted to spend forever with Zephyr, no matter who he was, no matter that they were in a popular band and the risks were high, no matter what either of them had been through, what they would go through, what would happen if Zeph said "no" (Jayden shivered at that thought, Jayden knew he never wanted to let Zephyr go.

He just prayed the other boy felt the same.

The screams out by the stage suddenly got louder, and Jayden blew out a breath, grabbing the silver band out of its spot carefully and stuffing it deep into his pocket. The whole box itself wouldn’t exactly fit into his tight stage pants, so he would just have to use only the ring. The show was starting soon, and as Jayden stuffed the case back into his suitcase and straightened out his clothes as best he could, he inhaled deeply, shakily, trying to calm himself down.

He was Jayden Davison, after all.

He couldn’t be nervous.

Immediately, as soon as he stepped into the hallway, a microphone was shoved into his face along with an earpiece, and some sound tech was hastily telling him to “get his ass out there.” Jayden was all but pushed over toward the stage, not able to protest even if he wanted to, and he only managed to halt his rapid movement to the entrance for a moment just long enough to reach out and gently rest his hands on Zephyr’s hips, giving him a light squeeze, half-hug (he hoped that Zeph wouldn't sense his nerves). He smiled gently; the touch was supposed to be just as comforting to Zephyr as it was comforting to him, because Jayden sort of felt like that by reaching out to Zeph, even for just a second, he could be assured of the fact the other boy really, really loved him, and he had no reason to worry at all.

God, this whole “anxious” thing really did not work for him. He couldn’t wait until it was over.

Quickly, the singer’s skilled fingers fitted the sound equipment into his ear, and, inhaling deeply again to hopefully stop the fluttering in his stomach, he stepped out onto the stage.

As soon as he did, felt the warm heat of the lights beat down on him, hear the screeches of the crowd get louder, the nerves were gone. Bam, just like that. It was all about the music, the fans, the show. The oh-so-typical, killer “Jayden Davison” smile spread wide across his beautiful lips, and he brought the microphone up, loudly greeting,

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman!”

His voice boomed through the speakers, teasing, sexy, playful, and just like that, the show began.

The songs moved by perfectly, and the ring in Jayden’s pocket went forgotten for the first half of the show. He just sang and sang, belting out the lyrics that weren’t his own, voice moving up and down the scales and the notes in that crazy way he had as he himself moved around the stage, swinging his hips, teasing, smirking, and driving all the fans crazy. This was his life; it took him over, and when he was performing, everything else was gone from his mind.

But then, the music stopped.

They finished the third or fourth song, and the sound went low, the bass line didn’t cue up, and Jayden was suddenly whirled back into the reality of what he was about to do.

He stood there, on the stage, for a moment, blinking once, twice, and suddenly, the ring was burning a hole in his pocket.

But, no. Jayden was too good of a showman. Despite the moment of faltering, a huge, playful smirk spread across his features for what might have been the millionth time that night (and it never got old), and he began to twirl the microphone cord in his hand, back and forth. He could see the confusion, hear the murmurings of the crowd as they wondered what happened, and Jayden quickly opened his mouth. He hadn’t exactly planned for this, what to say, really, how to explain himself, and, honestly? It was mildly terrifying. But he turned, and he saw the bassist give him a small, reassuring smile, and then, Jayden turned his gaze on the crowd.

“So, you’re all probably wondering what’s going on right now, aren’t you?” his voice came out smooth, controlled, so unlike how he felt. “I should be starting the next song. But, I’ve kind of got something else planned.” The fans began to scream a little louder, almost like they knew (Jayden half-hoped they didn't).

And then, Jayden turned. His smirk set on Zephyr (who looked rather…confused, to say the least), the singer moved closer, sauntering, moving across stage in his typical teasing, hip-swinging way. “Yes, I’ve got something else planned entirely,” he continued, voice still light, still with its very “showman””-esque sound. “As many of you may know, this lovely boy here—” Jayden tilted his head lightly in Zephyr’s direction, giving a rather…playful look to the crowd. “—And I are together, and we have been for quite some time now.” Cue the lovestruck, “Jazyr-shipping” fangirls’ screeching. Even though this was a personal thing, in true Jayden Davison fashion, he had chosen to do it in front of their fans, during a show, surrounded with the music that brought he and Zephyr together in the first place, and he knew that he still had to put up some entertainment for the crowd. At least, until he actually popped the question. Then it was going to be all about Zeph, and no one else.

Jayden started to feel, no, hear his heart beat, echo in his head, his ribcage.

Th-thump.

Swallowing a bit, Jayden moved closer and closer to his boyfriend, gaze going from him to the crowd, and back again as he carried on with his little “speech.” “And even though I normally get up here in front of you guys and sing and talk about lying and cheating and whores and hot, crazy, monstrous fucking…” More fangirls squealing. “What I’m about to do is so very, very, very far from any of that.”

And now, Jayden was only a few feet away from Zephyr, and he turned his gaze straight onto the other boy, eyes not letting up, staring hard into Zeph's hazel. “Because, here’s the thing. As cliché and stupid and silly and ridiculous as it is, I’m kind of in love with this kid here.” Jayden paused, for a moment. “Like head-over-heels, in-too-deep kind of thing.” The crowd screamed louder, and Jayden let out a playful laugh. “Ohh yeah; it’s pretty serious.” Now, any fan in the audience, anyone listening, they would just think Jayden Davison was goofing around, playing around with the fangirls like he always did. He loved to tease, after all.

But then, Jayden moved forward the last few feet, and the singer was standing so close to the guitarist he could just lean in and kiss him (but, not now—hopefully in a few moments, though). Jayden’s face suddenly went dead-serious, and his voice was a little less playful then before, his ever-present "front-man" persona slowly faltering as he continued into the microphone, “And I was just thinking the other night how I never want to lose him. And I kind of wanted to ask him something.” Suddenly, the crowd wasn’t so loud, and Jayden reached into his pocket, fingers, though they were shaking, easily finding the silver band. “So, I was just thinking, and, like, I was just thinking, and I was wondering, if, maybe…”

Jayden felt like his heart was about to explode out of his chest with the way it was pounding so hard, and he took a step back to get more space between the two of them as he bent down, on one knee. The crowd suddenly went dead silent for a moment before the screeches started again, even louder this time, ear-splitting, and Jayden put on his best smile for his boyfriend, for himself, for the crowd as he held up the small, silver band, and laughed lightly, asking, his voice booming through the microphone for everyone to hear,

“Zeph, would you like to marry me?”

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WORDS:[/size][/color] 3374
TAGS:[/size][/color] zeph<3
NOTES:[/size][/color] laahve them. excuse any crappiness. 'tis late.
CREDIT:[/size][/color] me. and lyrics: mgmt.

[zephyr drew clayton]

There wasn’t such a thing as perfection. It was just a stand that people thought they had to live up to, but that standard changed with every other person you tried to be perfect for. When a task wasn’t ‘perfect’ for Zephyr, he’d have to do it all over again until he got it right by the standard of his own set perfection. In his eyes, that sloppy caramel fix of hair that he had been working with for the past hour and a half was still far from how he had originally wanted it since he had been thinking about the costume appeal and material works for this show. Never did he repeat a look. It wasn’t that he was the type of person that thought an outfit should only be worn once, but it was the fact that he had such an original mind that he enjoyed bringing up new ideas for his personal appearance. His creativity was displayed out on the heavy make up that covered his face, but tonight the simple design had actually been easy to colorize on his high cheek bones. A rather hot piece of hair fell against his forehead, making him flinch from the sudden temperature change interrupting his thoughts. The boy cleared his throat, staring forward at his far too unattractive appearance. Zephyr hated his body. Everything was just too lanky and too thin. He ate, he really did. Maybe not as much as the average person, but he still put food in his mouth and kept it down. Food was never the issue. He was just terrified of ever gaining weight to where his body would be too disgusting in his own opinion for him to live with himself. It wasn’t like skin and bones were any better, but for now he was happy with that and the bit of muscle that clung to his tiny body. Every time he heard the banters of him needing to eat more and him needing to take better care of himself, he just brushed it off with another ‘cute boy’ blush and a simple excuse. He hated people feeling concerned about him, especially when he already had other, more impending concerned eyes on him already. Jayden wasn’t aware of the affect he had on Zephyr. But in turn, the boy knew what every expression; every action meant. Maybe Zephyr was just too observant, but he had known what those chocolate eyes meant every time they would pass down over his tiny frame with those pouty lips turning down in a disapproving frown before the expression was by passed and changed so it wouldn’t be given away. But he knew.

Being watching while he was doing something always had a way of affecting Zeph. It didn’t matter who it was. When ever he felt those eyes on him, he always managed to smudge his eyeliner or burn his ear or something when he was getting ready. But it seemed it was different with Jayden. At least, this particular instance it was. He hadn’t saw his boyfriend enter the room, but he had felt, yes, felt it. His heart started to race and a smile instantly wove over those beautiful, soft lips. He watched the boy walk with the sound tech toward the edge of the room, pausing the iron over his hair. Trying his best to avoid a straightener mark, he quickly tore his eyes away and tugged the flat iron farther over his hair. This was it. It was show time. The way that the crew were shoving them toward the stage was a great example of that. If Zephyr was half as open mouthed as he was open minded, he would be shouting a piece of his mind right now. But that wasn’t like him. Oh no. The frail, innocent boy would never speak out of his turn. He understood that some things had to be rushed or at least he tried to understand. He hated being touched so roughly; actually, he hated being touched by people he didn’t know well. It was just the OCD part of him that had his mind churning with the information of knowing how many germs were now crawling over his skin because of that simple contact of skin on skin. But, he pushed it into the back of his mind and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. It didn’t help, obviously. I mean, this was clumsy, lanky Zephyr Clayton we were talking about here. He still managed to stumble over his own feet and crash into the side of the barricade that held part of the backstage away from the make-shift door way for the VIP members of the current show. He could hear their chatter over the wall; the excitement in some of their voices as they noted how the wall had just been violently shoved from Zephyr’s small weight falling against it’s soft surface. Yeah. Some wall. He took a deep breath, looking out at the crowd of people he was about to go and stand in front of. For someone who hated being the center of attention, he sure as hell loved the stage performances. He felt comfortable with knowing that he’d be up there with some of his closest friends, though. Had it been himself, Zephyr wouldn’t of had the courage to get up on that big stage and put on a show for all those watching. But, with the guitar strap now settled over his shoulder and those hands on his hips--

What?

He froze, but not the whole ‘oh my god, who’s touching me?!’ freeze. Turning his head and leaning into those warm hands that happened to brush part of the skin that was freely on display from his shirt riding up some. A smile instantly started to grow over his mouth when he let his soft honey eyes connect with those much darker chocolate ones. But there was something different in that dark array of easily arranged color. Zephyr easily picked out the way that they seemed to dart even too quickly for Jayden’s constant hyperactive personality. Besides the change of some emotion Zephyr couldn’t exactly put a finger on, everything else seemed normal. So, he just pushed it off as him having maybe one too many sips of that precious energy drink he insisted on having before each show.

Zeph shoved the ear piece in place and easily bounced on stage after Jayden. The sound of his boyfriend’s voice was a dull hum at the back of his thoughts as he focused on making sure the sound was actually working for the guitar was well. Listening to the way the strings played the sharp half melody, he flinched at the way the last note was out of tune for his own liking. Quickly adjusting the setting, he willed himself to glance up at the maybe faces that were al spreading with the excitement that boy just a few feet away from him was letting them feed off of. Zephyr couldn’t help but smile. Jayden always did know how to set the pace for a show. That was one of the reasons why he was glad they had Jayden. He certainly couldn’t put on such entertainment for all of their fans. Though he understood the importance of each member, he also knew how much his own participation in the band was valued. Without Zephyr, there wasn’t any lyrics. Without Zephyr, there wasn’t an composure of hard to understand guitar meshes. But he didn’t see himself as the main energy focus for when they were in front of who knew how many people like they were now. Really, right now, Zephyr wasn’t even sure what state, let alone city they were in. As long as he knew the people he was around, he’d be perfectly fine. Oh, and the fact that they happened to be playing music. Or at least they were. The silence that had filled a crowded space with compacted bodies all probably well over the capacity limit of what ever venue they were in now. At least he wasn’t the only one that was confused, right? But looking around the faces of the people closest to him, he saw the ease and the knowing of something he didn’t have a clue about. Had he forgotten something? He was positive he knew the whole performance script. He knew what songs they were playing and he knew all the lines he had to cut in and help with. So what was this? Suddenly, a fear spread over him. Zephyr Clayton never forgot. He was the one that remembered to get you a birthday card when no one else did. He was the one that always knew when anniversaries were coming up or special events or days. This was completely out of the blue. So, he turned to the one point of comfort he knew he’d be calmed with.

Catching Jayden’s eyes made that eager rush of his blood slow down in his system. He swallowed past the lump of worry that had grown in his throat. There wasn’t a need for him to be panicking. What ever was happening must just be some random idea that Jayden had that hadn’t been passed on to Zephyr before the show. It was understandable. They had been rushed, after all. Pulling the ear piece from his ear, he let it settle against his shoulder so he could take in the sound of Jayden’s voice better. The guitar settled over his shoulder, hanging loosely down by his sharp hips. Stepping back, he grabbed the water bottle that was placed on the drum platform. Carefully picking out the bottle that had the black ‘Z’ plastered on the cap, he unscrewed it and swallowed a good mouthful of water. Finally, he caught on that what ever Jayden was doing now did in fact include him. Those innocent honey eyes countered back against those chocolate ones, watching the way that the boy was swinging his hips in his normal flirtatious dance over the stage. For being in the band for almost two years, you would think Zephyr would get used to seeing the way he so easily swung his hips and made his body follow in that amazing swaying step. But he wasn’t. Not one bit. His eyes were glued to those hips, watching the way they were rolling his body so easily forward toward himself at which Zephyr didn’t notice until he heard his name screamed from one of the fans that was close to the front of the stage. He looked up; back to Jayden’s face to catch that mischievous smile on his lips. In return, his eye narrowed at his boyfriend but the way his teeth hitched over his lip was a dead give away that he wasn’t about to pull off the glare he was trying to get to show on his face. Publicly, they were a couple. Privately, he loved it when Jayden announced it to anyone that would listen. He loved being the one that was able to hang off Jayden’s arm or be the one that could walk up behind him and hug his waist and burry his face into those shoulder blades just because he could. He was still getting used to the whole ‘it’s okay to show affection in front of other people’ thing, as Jayden called it. After all, they had only given their relationship so long in the public spot light (okay, so it had been about four months, but still). Zephyr wouldn’t doubt what he had. He never would. The way he felt for the boy that was closing the distance between them now could never be replaced or changed for what ever reason possible. He was in love and it was the kind of love that had you hung over but still intoxicated out of your conscious mind. It as that kind of love that had everyone wishing they were in his place even if he told all of them that they shouldn’t wish for anything such in lyrics that were twisted into riddles that only he really understood.

But he knew that Jayden got him. That was one of the things that had Zephyr standing her with his eyes focused on the boy across from him and the way his lips moved close against the microphone. Sometimes he tried to convince himself that he hated it when Jayden spoke about their relationship in front of the crowd. Other people knowing that they happened to be sharing not only an apartment together but a bed as well was hard enough to have to fight the friendly banters of people actually knowing about their sex life. But the fans trying to comprehend their feelings was such a bigger deal. Zephyr couldn’t take people who didn’t even know him feeling strong feelings of disappointment or some sort of negative feeling toward him. He didn’t like being the attention grabber on the cover of a magazine or some interview on the internet. Sure, it was okay to love Jayden out in the public eye, but the way he was suggesting what seemed like to so little to everyone else was actually really a big deal for Zeph. Those nervous hazel eyes flickered toward the crowd, only to be slightly blinded by the flash of the stage lights angling more toward them instead of fixed on the whole stage front. Swallowing, he started to toy with the strap that was starting to cut into his boney shoulder. Honestly, he didn’t have the slightest clue at what Jayden was getting to. Was it possible for Zephyr to be confused by the boy he was so madly in love with? Yes. It was. The way that Jayden had seemed to keep what ever he was about to do from Zephyr kind of amazed him. He was so used to being able to tell when something was off, but this; whatever it was, was a complete surprise. Watching that face start to mold into the one that only Zephyr was so lucky to get glimpses of when Jayden was in his vulnerable position, the nervousness seemed to jump up another few notches. His heart was rasping against his chest, thudding faster than he had ever really felt it move before. He felt a strange feeling of jealously for those who were close enough to see that face. But he fought off the temptation to hide it from the other’s view and let Jayden continue. After all, who was Zephyr to interrupt what ever he was doing? He had to let Jayden finish, no matter how much this secretive little plot of his was minutes away from driving Zeph toward insanity. He couldn’t stand seeming to be the only one (of the people on stage) that were unaware of what ever his boyfriend was doing. How unfair was that? But Zephyr wouldn’t pout. It would be far too embarrassing, along with the coloring that had easily spread over his cheeks so easily that it had slipped his mind. Hopefully the stage lights that was creating the swelling heat over his skin would be good enough to hide the flush of color currently running into his make up covered cheeks.

It wasn’t until he watched that boy drop down on his knee that he felt the connection start to break through his thoughts. Oh. Ohh. How had he not saw that before? Why hadn’t he made the connection sooner? Because for once, Jayden had kept something from Zephyr without the younger boy having a way of finding out. And now, here he was with those lips forming those beautiful words and holy shit. Did Jayden just ask him to marry him? Zephyr was frozen. His fingers were still fixed on the strings and his other hand still have the pick gripped tightly between his thumb and index finger. He was literally froze there; looking down at Jayden while his heart began to sputter out a healthy beat again before accelerating into something entirely different from that fast beat he had thought was bad earlier. Finally remembering how to breath and be human again, he started to move in what all felt like a blur. Zeph yanked the strap over his head, quickly forcing the guitar back into the almost not there in time hands of the guitar tech. Oh well. They had plenty of money to get him a new one. So, hardly caring if his guitar had broken or had made it safely into the hands of the guitar tech, he was now breaking the space between them and pulling Jayden up with his hands fisting tightly into his shirt to get the boy to his feet. Since when had he ever been that strong? Though that wasn’t really his care right now. Using one hesitant hand, he batted the microphone away from Jayden’s face. Replacing the space with his own body, he was sure to press flush against his boyfriend before smashing their lips together in a tightly met kiss that had his body demanding that he get closer to this wonderful person he was grasping so tightly. Zephyr had been convinced before that he wouldn’t be able to live without Jayden. He had been what had saved him from an impending life of nothingness. He had been what had brought out the talent and the general person in Zephyr. He was what had the boy head over heel in love. There wasn’t the slightest chance that he was going to give any of that up. Jayden was everything that Zephyr had ever secretly wanted in that special someone. He provided the boy with all of his wants and then added on a few special effects that had Zeph winded and not knowing what to expect next. But he loved it. He loved the unknown with Jayden. Because as long as they were together, he was accepted for being the person he was. He didn’t have to pretend to be someone else to get Jayden to likelove him. Everything was real.

So, he wrapped his arms around the other’s neck with his long, spider like fingers curling into those dark strands to hold their mouths together for a few seconds longer. They needed oxygen, of course; which was the only thing forcing Zephyr away from him. He could taste that sweet kiss still present on his lips. Living the rest of his life with Jayden sounded like the best kind of fairy tale that never got published. But it didn’t have to be. It could be their own private story that they passed on to who ever was interested in reading it. Because this was what perfection felt like. Sure, Zephyr was a little battered and used but Jayden fixed up those bad things and made Zephyr whole again. For him, that’s what love was.

The microphone was still close enough to record his whispered answer.

“Yes,”

That smile was so wide against his lips it seemed like it should hurt. But he couldn’t control the spread of happiness he felt working through his system. There was a part of him that was praying that this was real; that it wasn’t just some simple show Jayden was putting on for the middle of an act. But he had saw the ring, even though it didn’t really matter. He could of got him one of those little mood rings that were only a dollar at a dollar store and Zephyr wouldn’t care. The ring didn’t matter. He had Jayden and that was all he needed. Pressing their mouths together again, he adjusted his hold and let his body bounce in place to wrap his stick thin legs around his fiancé’s waist. The guitar pick was still held tightly between his fingers. Maybe it wasn’t such a coincidence that it had the letters ’J’ and ’Z’ etched into the center of the vintage heart pattern.

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STATUS finished.
WORDS 3,339 words.
COMMENTS they're amazing. just <3
TAGS jayden.
CREDITS yeah, all this and that up there? i made it. i don't own the picture of ross, i just cropped it and made it look better.
MUSIC three cheers for five years - mayday parade