bottombitch | IC Contact @ Riverview

[ Aoba can't help but laugh, it's a confusing way to put it but he thinks he's got the gist. This is just how Karamatsu is, he's learning fast. ]

You have big dreams of becoming a star, don't you?

[ Finding an empty table is pretty easy, so he settles into a chair and starts to lean his chin on his hand but straightens up when Karamatsu indicates the performance has a larger audience than one would expect of some open mic night. Aoba blinks. ]

Eh? Is this being live-streamed or something?

[ Aoba glances around, because y-yeah... this place could fit maybe 35 people, but it's not exactly packed... ]

_{[ Karamatsu kicks a chair by the leg to scoot it away from the table and twirls once, reclining back in the seat and instantly crossing his ankle over his knee.

Distantly, as he looks off into the "horizon," his sunglasses still on even though they are inside a building.
Dramatically: ]}

It is live-streamed into the hearts and souls of his entire city. Tch. They will feel it.

Edited 2017-08-01 02:53 (UTC)

[ Aoba jolts upright in his chair when Karamatsu kicks it, makes it scrape loudly against the floor and then drops down into it with a flourish. Okay, that's. Actually kind of awesome that he pulled off that stunt without injuring anyone (or himself) but Aoba's got both hands gripping the table cloth afterwards. Tense because he really, really doesn't want his first time here to involve getting kicked out for rough housing. ]

A...ah. That's really something... [ Feel it? Like this overbearing sensation of second-hand embarrassment he's feeling right now?

He has no idea how he's supposed to respond to such a ridiculous statement, so he just defaults to that old standby - the non-answer. He tries to smooth the wrinkles he's put into the tablecloth and ignore the stares he's pretty sure they're getting right now. ]

Um. What kind of music do you like?

_{[ It's always best to just stick with the default answer, Aoba. Nice job. Karamatsu turns to Aoba slowly, his fingers curling together. He presses his knuckles to the table, leaning in slightly. You think he's gonna keep it down? Like he's telling a secret? You're wrong. ]}

Music.. that invigorates the soul! Ah!
_{[ there it goes. He leans back, throwing his arms up in the air. ]}
The kind of music that can change the entire world! I do not need music that shows the ugly face of anger, non! I desire the kind of music that inspires people.. that can make a difference! Thoughts that are happy and wholesome; that can cure the sickness of one's heart!

One that praises love and conquers hatred!

_{[ After all of that, he finally simmers down: ]}
But, I do enjoy the sound of American classics, such as Johnny Cash.

Edited 2017-08-02 02:53 (UTC)

[ Even Aoba's capacity to go with the flow and accept the many misfits in his life is being tested this day. Karamatsu is truly a rare individual, but that seems to be the kind of thing Aoba tends to surround himself with anyway. Aoba leans in, brows lifting as he half-expects to hear some conspiratorial whisper but instead flinches when Karamatsu's volume control completely fails. ]

I-inside voice, Kara-kun!

[ He reaches out, trying to grab his sleeve to pull him back into his chair. Please, for the love of god. People are staring.

Finally he does, and Aoba slouches in his chair a bit. Pouting, for the record, at least until he hears a name that... draws a complete blank. He blinks. ]

American classics... Is that like... country music? With harmonica and a banjo?

[ He's been raised in the slums so basically his concept of America is probably some futuristic cowboy, despite the fact he enjoys electronica and a lot of it features English lyrics... ]

JOH-NNY CASH!
_{[He says it again, and louder, as if he couldn't get more embarrassing. Aoba must want to die now.]}

Have you honestly never heard? Do you like music? I will show you some of his work!
_{[by like pulling out his phone and showing, right?]}

[ Tch!! Why must he be so noisy? Aoba resists the urge to kick him from under the table, which... takes an enormous amount of effort. His sinks a little more in his chair, weighing his chances of sneaking out without notice if he simply slips down under the table and crawls out to escape. Sigh, it'd never work.

After a moment, he sits up and scoots his chair closer in the hopes that this might encourage him to pipe down. Or at least he's within easier reach if he doesn't. ]

Okay, okay -- just... here.

[ He unhooks his large (and very pink) headphones from around his neck, being careful not to let it pull on his blue hair. He's modified it to sync with someone's comm device similar to how one might use it to pay for a meal - simply by tapping it against the display on the outside. ]

Let's use this so we don't disturb anyone else, okay? I don't want us to get kicked out.

Heh. Hah!
_{[ Wrong. Karamatsu shifts in his seat and pulls his guitar forward. With a single strum, he'll sing. Right here. Right now. Right at this table. ]}

Love, is a burning thing--
And it makes a fiery ring--
_{[ AOBA PLEASE STOP HIM BEFORE HE CONTINUES. ]}

[ Aoba stares.

It's not the polite, quiet kind of stare someone does when enjoying a performance.

It's a wide-eyed, slack jawed, vein-popping kind that weakens his limbs, making him drop his headphones a good ten seconds before he just slinks down over the table - face first - in a desperate bid in cooling his hot skin against the cooler fabric of the tablecloth and hide himself from the paralyzed smiles of others around them. ]

Why? Why are you singing...?

_{[ Karamatsu stops for a moment when he hears Aoba speak, smiling brightly the entire time and remaining completely oblivious to their surroundings. It's almost as if he blocked everyone out intentionally (he did.) ]}

I am singing.. for you, my friend! Come now, let me entertain you with my passion and spirit!

[ This is it, this is how he dies. Of embarrassment. He's being crushed by it! He puts his hands over his ears, his exasperated groan muffled against the tablecloth. He can feel the stares of other people all around him, boring into him.

There have been many moments when Aoba has questioned his life choices and he just carefully adds this one to the pile. That said, he lifts up his face a moment later to reach out and place a hand over the strings of his guitar and over Karamatsu's mouth, silencing both abruptly. ]

Don't you think you should wait your turn on the stage?

[ There's even a scandalized looking dude seated on a stool, glaring at them both for interrupting his performance. ]

_{[ Karamatsu knows he's attracting attention-- maybe that is the entire point (it is.) He looks at Aoba, blinking owlishly. If he strums, he know it won't really make sound, so he just lifts that hand to hold Aoba's hand, tugging his hand off of his face lightly. He keeps holding his hand, too.

It's a little gay. ]}

Don't be ashamed to let the world see our friendship, Aoba-kun.
_{[ q u i t. that has nothing to do with anything.. ]}

[ Aoba's frown retreats into something that hovers between awkwardness and surprise for each hand that is taken and then... held? Just... hang on, what is he doing? What is he saying?! This is bizarre! ]

W-what does that have to do with anything?

[ Just what is with this vibe all of the sudden? It's kind of - no, it's too embarrassing to be flirty, but it even has the same effect. Aoba tries to twist a hand free just so he can try to push him back down into his chair by the shoulder. ]

Quit it, you're making a scene...!

_{[ He knows it's exactly making a scene, and that's just fine. Let everyone look at him! He grins, lopsided, at the notion of Aoba pushing on his shoulder and merely brushes his hand off of him, sliding his hip out from behind his side of the table. He looks off to the side, almost trying to show Aoba that he's remorseful for his behavior (he's not.) ]}

Ah.. so I am. Of course, of course, I should save it for the stage, but then--

_{[ He turns to Aoba, sparkling: ]}
~*Won't you join me on stage, then?*~

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