[spinners] starlit [charlie]

Surrounded by friends and family and coworkers and label employees, the little get together at Spinners was in full flow. The performance had gone well, really well, and Senna was still feeling that giddy, high flying emotion she got after a performance. Normally, she had drinks and food and hung out with Rheya after the shows to come down from that height in order to fall asleep at some point, but it was still early and it was still crowded and Senna still very much wanted to revel in their achievement with the people she loved most. Even her parents had stopped in for the performance, but had dipped out about an hour, citing the early day they had tomorrow at the shop. Senna was just proud that they had come and stayed so late at all.

The stage that had held their instruments not to long ago was now spotted with couches and slouchy chairs and many witches and wizards relaxing into them as they talked and laughed and enjoyed themselves as the cozy fairy lights that she had hung before the gig shone down on them. Senna flitted away from the label exec that she had picked up a weird vibe from, excusing herself with an excuse to use the little fairy's room, but really she headed to the bar instead. Leaning into it and standing on her tip toes in her heavy black combat boots as her emerald green velvet crop top rode up a little and she raised her hand to get the bartender's attention. He gave her a nod that he saw her, but was finishing a few drinks for a couple at the end of the bar. Senna eyed them with interest, noticing the way the wizard's hand were dotted with multi-colored flecked. Ooh, a painter perhaps?

She blinked a few times as she tucked a piece of her silver blonde hair behind her ear before she noticed a feeling of a particularly strong aura next to her. Senna glanced curiously to the man beside her before her face lit up in recognition. "Charlie?" she asked warmly. "Not the Charlie Baker?" she said, recognizing the fellow musician and lead vocalist for the uber successful powerhouse that was Banshee.

@Charlie Baker

Charlie was at the bar, ordering himself another beer. He’d come here with Liam, who was off with Ollie at present, and hadn’t realised this little soiree was for close friends and family. He ought not to be surprised that Liam hadn’t known this -- the other man was a stranger to the concept of private parties.

As it was, once he was here he couldn’t very well leave without risk of that being taken some way, so he was stuck trying to blend in as much as someone like him could -- which was going surprisingly well, either because he wasn’t as famous as he thought he was (maybe it was this particular group of people, they all looked a bit unique) or Oliver Rigby and the Band’s family and friends were trying not to bother him, which was fine too.

”Charlie?”

He turned apprehensively, thinking he’d jinxed himself by internally musing about how he hadn’t been approached yet and— Charlie blinked, surprised to see Ollie’s blonde guitarist standing there. Shit, which one was she? Liam had half-heartedly rattled off Ollie’s bandmates' names to him earlier in the evening but Charlie hadn’t paid too much attention -- figured he was here for Liam and (by extension) Ollie.

“The one and only,” he drawled with a soft smirk, standing up a little straighter and hoping it was obvious he didn’t really think that highly of himself (maybe he did, but it never really rubbed women the right way to say so, did it?). He gave her a quick once-over, down as far as her exposed abdomen, and back up to her face. The bartender came over then. “Let me get your drink,” Charlie offered, reaching for his wallet, “can't have you paying for your own tonight," he smiled warmly (by his standards) "and a beer please, mate,” he added, handing the money over.

He turned back to the petite blonde. “Sorry, I’ve met like, twenty different people tonight—” he lied, “— and names aren’t my thing,” much less of a lie, “what was yours again?”

Senna smiled, the corners of her hazel eyes crinkling, at his greeting as she tilted her head to look him over just as he was doing the same. His face, his fame felt familiar even though he was essentially a stranger, not that those labels really mattered to her. It might be silly to think she already knew part of him just by listening to his music, but for her, songs were a part of the soul and meeting him in person just clicked an extra piece into place. He was handsome, sure, and he had that orange aura that many of her artists friends had, but tinged with a deep, dusty red that made her.. pause. And lean away just a little.

"Kind of you," she quipped with a smile in thanks to him as she gave a nod to the bartender, her long fingers touching the napkin under the cocktail as she waited for him to be served too before she tasted it. "It's Senna, Senna O'Shea," she said with an indulgent smile at him. "I didn't expect to see you here. Did you come with Liam?" Senna asked, her eyes searching the room for a moment as she found Ollie in the crowd, Liam surely nearby somewhere, and then she turned back to lift her glass and clinked it against his bottle of beer. She sipped it and immediately liked the sweetness that hit her tongue. She found have to find Rhey and make sure she tasted this too, her friend would love it.

"So go on," Senna added with a secret smile as she leaned one elbow on the bar and looked over at him, turning her body to face him fully. "Tell me what you thought of the set," she elaborated, half hoping, half wondering if he had been paying enough attention to remember her little guitar solo in Hummingbird. If the Charlie Baker was going to listen to their songs, she might as well get the professional opinion to go along with it. After all, Banshee level fame was the dream, wasn't it?

Did he imagine that look? Maybe the one and only hadn’t been the best line to use on a fellow musician. He pressed his lips together--almost apologetically--and turned his focus on the bartender as he prepared their drinks.

“S’nothing,” Charlie replied, hoping she wasn’t going to take offence at being bought a drink too -- for once, it was a genuine offer (and maybe he wouldn’t have been mad if it scored him a few extra points, too). “Senna O’Shea,” he repeated, mirroring her infectious smile without really intending to.

“Er, yeah,” he admitted, almost sheepishly, glancing around for his bandmate and locating him with ease when the other man loudly exclaimed it was time for shots from across the room. “Twat didn’t tell us it was a private party.” He flicked his attention back to Senna and smirked knowingly. “I’d say he grows on you, but...” he trailed off -- there was no real need to finish that thought. Charlie’s dark eyes were drawn down to her glass clinking against his beer and he smiled again, lifting the bottle to his lips for a swig.

He lowered his drink and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly at her request, his expression neutral (borderline miserable). “Was alright,” he drawled, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after a second to try and hide the grin that broke through a moment later. He turned on the spot and rested his back against the bar, holding his beer low in front of him, his free hand peeling at the corner of the label. “Gonna give us a run for our money, I reckon,” he said, more kindly.

He tilted his bottle towards her as he brought it up to his lips for another drink, “You help write the melodies?” he inquired curiously; he’d been quietly impressed by her skill on the guitar, more used to witches whose musical ‘talent’ was limited to performing dance routines to pop songs written for them by somebody else.

She nodded as he repeated her name and wondered if he was repeating it because her parents had somehow graced her with a name that had its own musical ring to it or if it was so that he could remember it. Senna liked the look of his smile so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and nodded once as if to say 'that's me' before she took another sip of her drink. "It's alright," she said easily as her gaze followed his to where their bandmates were going in for shots. She might be tempted later to take a few as well. "The more, the merrier," she told him even as her lips quirked a little and lowered her voice a little as if telling a secret. "Even if it does make Rhey a little nervous."

Speaking of, she wondered where her best friend was and if she had already met the infamous Charlie Baker. His aura was certainly.. interesting, to put it nicely, but she wondered if Rhey would like him better than she did. Senna thought for a moment and then decided to clue him in with a knowing smile. "Our drummer," she explained lightly.

Senna's heart sank a little as she saw his less than enthused reaction and the glass that had been on the way to her lips slowed, her brows pulling together in a frown. Well then. He could have at least lied and said they were decent, she should have went with her instinct the moment she picked up on his aura and she knew that-- Oh. She faltered for a minute as he laughed and she tried to fight the embarrassment and the guilt of the bad things she had just thought of him. "I'll be sure to tell Ollie you hated it," she told him, going for a teasing tone as she tried to let go of her embarrassment. The kinder words helped a bit, and it felt nice to return to familiar ground of writing music.

She gave him a nod. "Ollie and I wrote a few songs together and some lyrics for others. A collaborative process, you know how it is," she explained, not wanting to take all of the credit. They had been doing so much promo lately to get word out about the new album that songwriting had taken a back seat and just the mention of it made her miss it. "Have you been writing anything new lately?" she asked, but her eyes were stuck on his hands. Guitarist hands. Peeling the label off the bottle.

With a hint of a smile, she glanced up at him, meeting his gaze as she crossed her legs. "You know what that means, don't you?" she said, flicking her eyes down to where he was peeling the label, letting the question hang there before she grinned wider and filled in the answer for him. "Sexual frustration."

Charlie smirked softly as Senna leaned in towards him, his eyes following her easily. “Ah,” he said, as she clarified who ‘Ray’ was. “I’m the opposite,” he revealed in an equally muted tone, with what could be considered a reassuring smile. “The more intimate the gig, the more it affects me, I think.”

He almost felt bad about playing with her like that, but she seemed to take it in good stride -- he’d be neither the first nor the last to cast doubts over their music, jokingly or not. They’d all have to develop a thick skin if they wanted to be in the public eye -- Charlie had learnt that very early on in his own career.

Senna said she’d tell Ollie his thoughts and Charlie grinned again. “You do that,” he said, taking a swig of his beer. Liam’s protégé already knew what Charlie thought of his songwriting talent. And he had been being polite, really, asking if she helped with writing, but he was both pleased and impressed to hear the blonde witch had contributed -- though he could probably have assumed based on her skill on stage.

He knew how it was. “Yeah,” Charlie nodded; he did. Had he written anything new? “Erm,” he hesitated, going back to absently peeling at his beer bottle label. “Bits and pieces, here and there.” He shrugged. “The odd riff or summat will come up in rehearsals,” he elaborated. “Tour starts in a week or so,” he explained. Charlie always thought after releasing something he’d have a mental break, but if anything it often served to unleash a whole new slew of ideas (nothing to do with moving onto the next source of inspiration). He was about to tell Senna this when she spoke again and he glanced up at her, caught out.

He followed her gaze down to his hands. Sexual frustration. Charlie flicked his dark eyes back up to meet hers, staring at her a little intently. Was she—? He wet his lips and smirked. He didn’t think he was sexually frustrated (considering), but denying it wasn’t going to further his cause any. “Does it?” he asked, far from innocently. His focus drifted over her pixie-ish features slowly, taking in her multiple piercings and warm hazel eyes, then down to the flash of pale midriff between her velvet crop top and her bottoms. With effort, he brought his attention back up to her face and lowered his voice a fraction: “I’ll have to do something about that,” he said, bringing his bottle up for another sip.

"Really?" she asked, curious, her head tilted to the side as she sipped at her drink. "Mr. Wrock God is still affected?" Senna asked with a smile, her tone so he could brush it off as a joke if he wanted, but the question still intrigued her. Sure, she knew the stats and headlines of Charlie and the rest of Banshee and a few tidbits here and there of what Ollie had told her about the guys, but getting to know someone underneath the fame was still way more interesting to her. If only he didn't have that icky aura hanging around him.

She supposed his smile was nice though, she thought, as he grinned about something that she had said. And the line of his bicep showing was pleasing. If she looked at specific things, perhaps she could look past the aura that made her want to scoot away to find Rhey in the crowd. Then again she was curious about him. What was a few moments more. "Ah, yes," she nodded as he brought up tour. "I'm sure you'll be so busy soon you won't know what to do," Senna mused, understanding to a point how tour life felt. Busy apparating from city to city, in a different hotel every night, schedule full of sound checks and interviews and staging rehearsals not to mention the press interviews and fan meets. And that was all on the small scale that she was used to. She could only image what magnitude Banshee was on for all of that.

Senna saw something in his gaze that made her smile turn a little sheepish. Maybe she shouldn't have said it, but it wasn't like it was an invitation. At least she hadn't meant it to be and still didn't. And yet she didn't want to hurt his feelings, the poor bloke. It's not like he knew his aura was rather repulsive to her. She gave him a shrug and reached out to pat his arm chummily, in a short two pat tap before drawing back. "I'm sure you'll find a lucky girl who can help. Or guy, whatever your preference," she said in reply and then sipped her drink again as she glanced at the crowd, seeing Rhey's braids for a moment before she disappeared behind someone taller. As her eyes slid back to Charlie, an idea made her sit up a bit taller. "Or actually I have a friend who helps cleanse such things from your aura. It's pretty harmless and I'm sure you'll feel loads better after. I can give you her card if you'd like?"

Charlie let out a light laugh and met Senna’s eyes belatedly. “Yeah, still affected,” he admitted, shifting his weight slightly. “Don’t throw up backstage before going out anymore, at least,” he joked — he hadn’t done that (from nerves, at least) in years. For some reason Senna didn’t give off the feeling that she did even now, as Ollie Rigby and the band or whatever they were called were gaining popularity and playing bigger and bigger crowds — she had a strange sort of calm and ease about her.

Charlie smiled lopsidedly. “Yeah. S’why I’m making the most of relaxing now,” he explained (lied) with a tilt of his beer bottle. If Senna had been privy to the planned Banshee tour schedule she might wonder what was so strenuous — it was almost a working week between each show, plenty of time for sightseeing. Back when they’d been starting out it had been a new city almost every night, trying to squeeze as much exposure into as many theatres and local halls as possible. On their last tour they’d had a couple of nights in each location, a couple more in the places they’d really wanted to spend some time. This one, well, it was practically a holiday — but didn’t they deserve it? For all the hard graft early on? People tended to forget that side of success, conveniently.

The blonde withdrew a little and Charlie kept his eyes on her, hoping to be reassuring (perhaps she’d never been hit on by a rock god before, as she’d put it) because she wasn’t his usual type but he felt drawn in, regardless. Senna reached out with her arm and Charlie watched her, dumbly, as her hand pat his arm in a very not-seductive gesture. His dark eyes flicked back up to meet her hazel gaze and he grinned vacantly, at a loss for words in response to hers. Whatever his preference. “What?” He laughed (a little nervously), his brow furrowing; “Are you not—” He stopped talking as she offered her friend’s services — to cleanse his aura. Charlie opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again; “If I get it cleansed will you give me your card?” he smirked.

He laughed, then, finding it all a bit ridiculous. Auras, for fuck’s sake. “Are you serious?” She looked it. He was still more amused than offended, so simply had another drink of his beer. “Why, what’s wrong with it?”

"Oh, you too?" she asked, surprised at the admission even if it was one of the past and thinking of how Rheya still got stage fright. Or maybe fright wasn't the right word, but it was something and Senna was always more focused on her best friend just before they took the stage rather than anything else. She wondered if Charlie might have some advice for Rhey and again looked for her friend in the crowd. But then the thought occurred to her. "I mean, not me," she clarified as an afterthought. "Rheya, our drummer."

Senna took a sip of her cocktail, licking her lips, as someone put their record on in the background. She smiled absently as she picked out the different layers of voices: hers, Ollie, even Jonesy's deep baritone. Tonight felt like a dream in some senses. Playing with the band, sharing their music for the people who mattered most to them, plus a few like Charlie who didn't but still seemed important. "Makes sense," she replied with a nod. "Live it up while you can," she said a little more ominously than she meant to. Oh well.

She met his gaze with a sunny smile, blinking as he laughed, curious at the confusion on his face as her eyes met his. She tilted her head as he adorably looked like a fish, his mouth opening and shutting a few times and she took another sip of her drink, patiently waiting. Maybe her first guess had been right. He had no clue about his aura. Poor man. "Maybe," she said with a huff of a laugh and a half-smile, wondering herself how honest her answer was. She just wasn't sure at this point, and sure, she knew it wasn't what most people considered 'normal' (how boring) chitchat, but she had learned and maybe still was that it was easier putting her cards out on the table from the get go and if someone else didn't vibe with that, then maybe it wasn't meant to be.

His laughter, as light as it felt, rubbed her the wrong way and she tried not to bristle. Maybe he just didn't know any better, she was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. "Very," she said with a nod and then a little sigh and shrug. "It's orange and red, not a good combo," she told him honestly, knowing very well that he might blow her off entirely, but she was willing to risk it for even the smallest chance that he would get his aura cleansed. He desperately needed it. "Maybe you just need a good reset. Too much negative energy hanging around you," she said with a grimace that verged on sheepish. She wasn't trying to insult him, but she felt like he ought to know at the very least.

Him too? Charlie second guessed himself for a moment, assuming Senna meant herself — or, he supposed, she could mean Ollie— or the drummer. Charlie nodded, not really sure why he did. “Yeah, you get used to it, sort of,” he offered as a weak reassurance.

Live it up while you can. “Exactly,” he smirked.

“Orange and red?” Charlie repeated, his eyebrows up in a show of amusement. “Doesn’t sound it,” he agreed, and had another sip of his beer, mostly to hide the grin on his lips. He kept his eyes on the blonde, and as he lowered the bottle he let out a derisive sounding snigger. “Been trying to reset for the last few months,” he told her, shifting to lean his back against the bar, his body facing out at the party with Senna to his side; he neglected to clarify that his version of ‘resetting’ was to get back to how things were before — his life had been simpler then.

“Think the negative energy is here to stay,” he said, wiggling the fingers of one hand on the inflection and laughing again.

Senna tried to keep in mind that he probably couldn't see how off-putting his aura was and also tried to remind herself that most people didn't really think they were real. As if she were making all of this up, as if she needed another reason for people to think her strange, but the edge to his snigger made her shift on her feet. A part of her wanted to give Charlie Baker, wrock god, the benefit of the doubt, and leniency was easy to give after she had been having such a great night so far, but she couldn't help the feeling that he was being a bit patronizing.

One moment she was thinking it had been a good idea to tell him about his aura in case he wanted to cleanse it and the next moment she was thinking that she shouldn't have said anything at all. Maybe he was one of those people who liked wallowing in their own negativity. Maybe it was just a side effect of fame? Merlin help her if her aura got as bad as his.

Either way, she gave him a smile. "Seriously, I do have a friend who can help you cleanse it. I can owl you her card if you want it," she said after watching him wiggle his fingers.

Lucky for her, she saw an out and took it. "Oh, Lina, hey!" Senna called as she saw her friend with dark eyeliner around her kohl eyes and a smile that was bright under her hair that was half black and half white. Senna glanced at Charlie and touched his arm. "It was good catching up with you, I'll see you around," she told him before Lina wrapped her arm around hers and pulled her away, Senna only glancing once over her shoulder to give a little wave to the wrock god that was Charlie Baker and his bad aura.

/end

Senna offered her friend’s card, and Charlie met her eye for a moment. “You’re alright,” he said, declining. The would rather have yours he might’ve used ten minutes ago dying before it got to his tongue — she might’ve been pretty, but she was clearly a bit of a lunatic and he’d resolved to try and only get involved with unproblematic women moving forward.

Charlie drank, unsure what else he was meant to say. Fortunately, the ethereal blonde appeared to find a familiar face—for a moment Charlie panicked that this was the friend—and seemed to provide them both with the out. Charlie’s eyes followed her hand to where it touched on his arm, before returning to her face. “Right, yeah.” He’d forgotten entirely that Senna was here as a member of the band — Ollie’s band, the Ollie that Liam was—

He watched her float away, effortlessly scooped up by the Cruella De Vil lookalike, and blinked: God help Liam if he was getting wrapped up in this lot.


[ end ]