creve coeur

The night had been a dream.

In between each moment as it passed by like a freight train, fast and fleeting, Oliver Rigby found himself somehow still in search of that one familiar face— not his family or friends— but another. He'd succeeded in brushing it aside, for the most part, the inexplicable reason why Liam wasn't there when the band left the stage, but the lingering question of why did just that... linger.

Thankfully, at what point Ollie wasn't sure, someone had jumped on stage and elicited an impromptu show of their own that sparked another, and then another. Not karaoke, though. He wouldn't demean his friends like that. It helped, of course, that it seemed everyone he knew was impossibly talented, putting the professionals to shame.

He found himself comfortably on the dancefloor with a glass of champagne in hand that had miraculously kept topped up. He swayed along to the sounds of something from the sixties, something he'd heard from his mother's radio once upon a time. Fuck, he wanted to make something like that. Back to back with someone, he pushed the damp curls of hair from his forehead before— another brief moment of clarity.

Taking a mouthful of his drink, the wizard made his way through the crowd, a kiss on the cheek of his brother he ran into (where had that come from), then to the stairs. All at once, he knew he needed to take time to process this, on his own. To make sense of everything. He wasn't sure if it was the potions, the champagne, or the general overwhelming sense of being on the precipice of something— but he needed it.

Outside it was hot, sticky, and Summery in London. Oliver had been a dreamer to think he might get something refreshing. He let out a breath of air from deep in his chest, a brief chuckle to himself,  then he realized he wasn't alone. Green eyes landed upon the other man and he grinned. "Record store boy..." He said as if he might know that Ollie had noticed him, noticing Rheya all those times at the shop.

@Ezra Cohen

The party had been more than Ezra had bargained for, and for once he felt as young as he was—still eighteen, a fresh graduate. It had been kind of Rheya to invite him to this “friends and family” album release party. He had felt like family at first, when it just started. He didn’t know anyone but Rheya and regretted not bringing his friends Jam and Janae, but he hadn’t asked if they could come and didn’t want to assume that they could. He regretted it a lot, though. They would have made this fun for him. As it was, he was feeling awkward. Everyone was drinking, high, or just high on life, and Ezra was standing in the corner, a wallflower—something so unlike him. He was usually the life of parties, joking and laughing and having a good time. He felt like he wasn’t cool enough to be here, and that was a new feeling.

He had stuck by Rheya, trying not to be a nuisance while also trying to keep himself entertained. After a long bit of considering, he decided he needed to go out for a smoke. That would help relieve some of his anxiety—make him more social again, happier, better adjusted. He was well into it by the time Ollie—the coolest cat of the bunch—made his way outside into the ally Ezra was inhabiting. Ezra coughed a bit, quickly hiding his pipe behind his back. What if Ollie wasn’t into it? Would Ezra look like a loser or a dork or something? He didn’t want that. He just wanted to feel welcome, and at the moment that was the farthest thing he felt.

Record store boy the other called him, and Ezra’s stomach filled with knots. He cleared his throat,  inhaled a deep breath of fresh—albeit thick—summer air, and forced a smile. “I’m, uh, Ezra.” He offered, looking him over. “Your band is kicking it off, huh? That’s so cool. Congrats, dude.” He managed. “”I’m a…” regular at the shop? Rheya’s pet stalker?  â€œâ€¦friend of Rheya’s. She invited me, but I haven’t met you yet. Of course, I already know who you are. I mean, who here doesn’t know who you are?” He was rambling. He was still too sober for this, but he was getting there.  A little haze was settling in, and it felt warm and familiar.

“You know, my friends and I are in a band.” He offered, still rambling. “I should have brought them. You would have loved Janae, she’s the frontwoman, a real powerhouse.” He grinned. “Actually the whole band is good. Except the bassist, he’s kind of a rambling nerd.” He said self-admonishingly.

So, the record store boy had a name— Ezra. It suited him, Ollie thought, record store boy, but so did the real one too.

"I know," The wizard couldn't help but smirk a little as he hoisted himself up to sit on the brick ledge of a window behind Ezra. "I've seen you in there," He nodded to Spinners. He would have said it sober too, it didn't seem all that strange to him, but then again he wondered if he should be a little less himself— Ezra seemed a bit out of his element as it was.

"Oliver," He extended his hand, grinning at the idea that a room full of anyone (albeit those who were legitimately only friends and family) knew who he was. He'd gotten a taste for it, and he feared there was no coming back from that.

"Really?" Ollie sat forward, leaning on his palms as he looked sideways at his new friend "Well, I like the sound of that..." His Scottish drawl lingered on the vowels, no doubt more pronounced because of the champagne, the potions, that natural damn high. Speaking of— he took a quick sip and eyed while eying the mystery cigarette in Ezra's hand by his side. "Bit like Rheya, then," He commented. A powerhouse. That woman was the absolute bones of everything they were.

It also couldn't hurt, he thought, to bring up their mutual friend as much as possible in the hopes that this kid would confess his love for her— that way it wasn't just something Ollie had dreamed up on his own.

"What's the—" Oliver tried to summon the right word, green eyes shooting up to the sky that crept between the buildings of the alleyway. Not genre, he hated to put things into boxes. "— the, je ne sais quoi... the sound," He finally landed on, clearly pleased with himself as he turned back to Ezra again. Looking at him, he couldn't place what kind of music he would imagine he liked to make, and those were the best kinds of people.

Ezra blushed a little bit, taking Oliver’s hand and shaking it. Rheya was a powerhouse for sure, but she came off a little bit shyer than Janae. Janae was just so exuberant, so angry, so passionate about their music. It was a surprise she didn’t help write more of it. Maybe she just wasn’t talented in that way—she was better at screaming and singing.

“Rheya is really great.” Ezra assured with a light little smile. He really liked her. He knew he had no chance to date her, but that didn’t stop him from thinking she was the bee’s knees. She was gorgeous and smart and strong. He liked her a lot. He didn’t necessarily take things seriously between them, though. He would have been surprised if she reciprocated his feelings, and maybe, just maybe, a little disappointed?

When asked about the sound, Ezra didn’t know how to answer. “Eclectic.” He decided, taking another drag. “We’re hip hop punk with some… humor and… it’s interesting. Real political lyrics most of the time. Some love songs, I dunno. We’re a touch of everything.” He shrugged.

“I like you guys’ music, though. Totally different than us, but really cool vibe, yeah." He smiled lightly. Oliver was so handsome, but with this certain… something that made him irresistible. Ezra felt very shy standing there talking to him.

Studying Ezra as he contemplated what their je ne sais quoi—sound— was, he grinned. "Well, who doesn't like a touch of everything?" On a personal level, musically, Oliver was inspired by so many genres; 60s funk, 70s punk, 80s electric. He had a palpable level of appreciation for artists who teetered all of the lines, those who blurred them just enough to make way for their own.

"I'd like to hear that," Ollie commented sincerely, eyes looking up once again to the sky before flicking back down slowly to meet his gaze "Do you write?" He prompted, curious as to where their political lyricism stemmed from.

"Ha, thanks," He said through a laugh, face flushed despite himself, a mouthy grin in tow.

"May I—" Ollie gestured to the mystery cigarette in the man's hand with a quirk of his eyebrow. Once confirmed, he pulled Ezra's hand (the cigarette, by proxy) to his mouth to inhale deeply. Holding it on his own was too much commitment. "Phew," The sound of his laugh reverberated off the brick alleyway more than before. "Really, thanks, it means a lot," He said, more seriously as he dropped Ezra's hand, exhaling in the process. To have any kind of recognition felt monumental.

Ezra couldn’t stop blushing. He felt so terribly, horribly bisexual at a time like this and worried it showed. There was something about Oliver, that same je ne sais quoi he had mentioned earlier. He could feel it in his mouth, making his tongue heavy—or was that the drugs?

“I don’t usually write. My best friend Jam is the writer. He basically runs the whole thing. Writes the music, the lyrics. I just show up and play the notes he tells me to.” He shrugged, feeling lame. He would love to take credit for it, but there was nothing for him to take credit for. “I never expected to seriously be in a band. I only started playing to impress him and his hot sister.” He admitted. “But now I can’t imagine not having it.” He admitted. “What got you into—ahh, yeah, sure.” He offered the cigarette but instead Oliver took his whole hand up to his mouth, and Ezra felt a shiver down his spine. NO, NOT in public.

“Ahhh, yeah.” He took in a deep breath and another drag, remembering the other man’s mouth was on the same cigarette and so they were indirectly kissing. Stupidly, he laughed. “Indirect kissing, my specialty.” He teased, unable to stop himself from making the stupid comment. He felt so gay right then he didn’t know what to do about it. His heart was racing a mile a minute.

“Um, should we go back in now, or did you want a little more..” He coughed. “Fresh air?”

Oliver suspected that despite his new friend's nonchalance there were creative bones underneath it all. He could tell from the way that he spoke about their sound. Passionate and proud, words tripping over each other in a feverish attempt to manifest that feeling. Even just happening upon a band and sticking with it was a testament to that same dreamer tendency that had carried him to where he was.

However, for Ollie, not being in music had never been an option.

As the smoke dissipated into the night sky where he'd turned his gaze, he grinned then looked back to Ezra. He could feel the nerves by proxy and his grin fell a fraction. It was a familiar feeling, remembering that not everyone was the same as him. Green eyes that still shone despite their haze watched with interest as he took a drag. Indirect kissing, he said. Oliver grinned. "I've not heard that before," He let out a little laugh in the process of speaking. 

"Can't be as nice as the direct kind," He shrugged, not meaning it at all in a salacious way.

"It's nice out here," Oliver decided, looking at what was left of the other wizard's cigarette. "Finish that, no hurry," He leaned back on the window sill and rested his head on the otherwise uncomfortable brick frame. "So, this hot sister..." He began with a laugh, unsure if he was curious about their status more for Rheya or himself.

Ezra blushed a little more. Had he really made the indirect kissing comment aloud? “Um, heh. Sorry.” He managed, but he didn’t know what he was apologizing for. His eyes fell to Oliver’s lips and he blinked and tried to look away. “No, you’re right. Not as nice as the direct kind.” He cleared his throat and took another drag. He offered it to Ollie again. “Another?” He asked, secretly hoping Oliver would take his hand again.

He laughed a little more genuinely as Oliver homed in on Janae. She really was gorgeous. “Best friend’s sister, totally off limits. She’s the frontwoman of the band now. Like I said before, a real powerhouse like Rheya. Maybe that’s what I see in Rheya, who knows. She does remind me of Jae.” He smiled. “But of course, I kind of grew out of the crush. Jae’s in another league, and my best friend would murder me.” He laughed.

“But, I dunno. I like lots of people.” It was not a lie. He was always developing crushes on anyone who was nice to him. He very recently started liking a girl in the year below him, Wini. He also had crushed on Circe for like 10 years and, had a giant crush (that was never going anywhere) on Rheya, and was feeling a strong desire to pin this interesting gentleman against the wall, not that he had the nerve. He never went after people he liked. He was always too shy, and Oliver was… wow. He was way too cool for Ezra.

"That's alright," Oliver said almost as a question as he watched Ezra seemingly flounder. It was clear that he was nervous but he couldn't imagine why.

"All yours," He nudged his arm to push the proffered cigarette in hand back to him. More than enough substances had been mixed that night and he was all too aware that he was treading the line of a place that would no longer be fun. He liked to think that he knew his boundaries. "Ha," Oliver let out a chuckle as he watched the man light up when talking about their frontwoman, smiling in return. It was nice to see people talk about the things they loved.

He liked lots of people. He would have been lying to say the choice of pronoun, people, hadn't caught his attention. Ollie was the same and he nodded in agreement to say as much. For him, it was more about the internal than external when it came to rules of attraction. Those days, though, there was only the one, Liam.

"A good problem to have," Ollie commented dreamily, finishing what was left of his champagne. "Want one? He waved his empty champagne glass in the air when he noticed that the smoke had stopped lingering. "Think it might be from a box, but—" He hopped from the window sill and looked back to Ezra with a grin. "Best champagne I've ever had," He meant it, too.

Ezra finished up what was left of his cigarette and put it out on the ground, picking up the butt and putting it in his pocket when Oliver declined. He laughed a little at Ollie’s comment, but didn’t comment on the fact that it was actually not a great problem to have. He hated being so easily taken. He coughed a little, feeling a little better and starting to relax.

“Uh, sure?” He decided. Box champagne sounded par for the course, not that Ezra usually drank champagne. Or wine. Or anything other than flavored vodka and firewhiskey. He smiled at the other. “Yeah, let’s go back in.” He agreed. “I wish I had brought my friends. You would have loved them.” He decided. Ollie would probably have thought Jam and Janae were way cooler than him. Sid might have pushed his buttons but probably in a good way, because that’s how Sid was.

He felt floaty a bit when he turned towards the door, waiting for Ollie to follow. He didn’t want their time to end yet, but he knew he couldn’t usurp all his time that evening. It was Ollie’s party, after-all.

"Next time, then," Oliver wiped his hands on his pants after jumping from the window in the direction of the back entrance to Spinners. "When's the next show?" He offered a sleepy grin, stepping beside Ezra to open the door and walking straight into when it didn't immediately open. For a moment, he panicked thinking that they'd been locked out but then he remembered the was also a front door.

"Usually gets a bit stuck..." It had happened to him before, at least. Pushing tufts of damp curls off his forehead, Ollie gave the door another shove, nearly falling over himself through the threshold when it finally popped open.

"Ha," He regained his balance, mouth pulling into a full grin. It was an adjustment on the eyes being in the back corridor that led into the store. All around them, there were shelves of overflow records, nicknacks, polaroids of the staff tacked to the walls. Oliver couldn't help himself— he touched a hand to a few of the records dreamily. "Magic, isn't it?" He looked back to Ezra to affirm, their journey for shitty champagne all but the front of mind.