we have not touched the stars
Thread Topic: we have not touched the stars
Nah but for real.
In a world where your soulmates first words to you are printed on your wrist from birth, C1 lives to make their own way. They resent the idea of fate and the thought of letting a skin abnormality dictate who they end up with makes them unreasonably angry. They'll do anything in their power to go against the current. They want nothing to do with a soulmate, and instead focus on their music career.
Enter C2, the soulmate. Very unfortunate. From the moment they meet C1, it's clear they're not going to get along. C1 seems to hate them, for no apparent reason, and giving them space proves difficult when C2 is hired as their personal bodyguard.
Full Name: Sadie Marie Ward
Birthday: May 5
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Romantic Orientation: Gyneromantic
Religious Affiliation: Atheism
Physical Disabilities: n/a
Weight: 120 lbs
Body Modifications: multiple tattoos and piercings
Languages Spoken: English, Spanish
Bio: Sadie has always been the rebellious type- that mentality has matured into something of an aversion to authority of any kind. As a result, she chooses to sleep around and tries to prove she can be perfectly happy without the "soulmate" the tattoo on her wrist promises her. She even went so far as to write a song whose first verse matches the words on her wrist, hoping she could never find her soulmate if everyone she meets says the words. She craves intimacy but has yet to find it with any of her one night stands- and she hates that. The words on her wrist are, "You and I fight like dogs, spit like snakes. At the end of the day you're my favorite mistake."
*Romantic Orientation: Panromantic
Selena112 Hot ShotFull Name: Remy James Ansel
Nicknames: Ansel, Adams, anything but RJ
Birthday: Sept 16
Gender: Man?????? Aaaaaaa?
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Romantic Orientation: Biromantic
Religious Affiliation: Hasn't given it much thought
Neurodiversions: anxiety and OCD possible
Physical Disabilities: nearsighted, wears contacts
Weight: I don't know weights. probs heavier than he looks bc sturdy
Body Modifications: none
Languages Spoken: English, some ASL
Bio: Ansel, called James growing up, was always stronger on his own than in groups. This comfort with making decisions on his own was what brought him into his occupation, knowing he trusted himself with the split-second decisions he'd have to make.
His outlook on the whole "soulmates" thing has never been optimistic, given that his mother worked in soulmate insurance— a branch of insurance planned around soulmate couples going horribly wrong. After his own parents' soulmate pairing fell apart, he no longer had any desire to even pursue the concept. The words on his wrist read, "Who the f--- are you?" Unfortunately, he hears this more often than he'd like.
Remy woke up a few minutes before his alarm went off, glancing at the fuzzy numbers glowing out at him from his nightstand. He reached out to turn off the alarm, he would get up in his own time, before he remembered what a bad idea that was. It never worked like his sleepy brain said it would. He pulled his hand back under the covers and closed his eyes tight, hoping to get whatever remaining peace he could.
After hitting snooze once, and then nearly a second time, he got up. He ran through the events of the day in his head as he went from his room to the bathroom, from the bathroom to the kitchen. It was 5:30 now, which meant he had two hours to pack and half an hour to get to his new job. He wouldn't drive, everything else would stay here, and his usual housesitter (a high school-aged cousin who lived nearby) had the instructions on when to come by and what to take care of around the house.
Taking the mug of coffee he'd prepared, he walked back into his bedroom. Packing for gigs like these was always the same, but he still put off throwing everything into a duffel bag until the last minute. He set down his coffee and set to work.
The night had been long for Sadie. What had started as a simple going away party had turned into something of an event, people dancing on tables and probable property damage she was glad she would be gone in the wake of. She hadn't taken anyone home with her, but she had vague memories of sitting on a couch making out with a woman whose name she didn't know. Who had invited all the strangers anyway?
She brushed her hair out the best she could before moving to the kitchen and pulling a liter of iced black coffee from the fridge and taking a few rushed swigs. Today was the day. She loved adventure, really, but going on tour always made her anxious. She had gotten all of her belongings together in the several days before- anxiety always led her to prepare more than she needed to- and had loaded them into the tour bus herself. She almost regretted that now, wishing she had something to do while she waited other than fixate on what was to come.
She settled on finding breakfast in a drive thru somewhere to preoccupy her time, driving around and mulling over her options with great care before settling on a McGriddle. Or three. (It was three.)
His duffel bag packed, he wandered back out to the living room with his empty coffee mug in hand. He placed the bag near the door, not close enough to where he would've been wearing shoes before, and walked back into the kitchen with the coffee cup.
Remy refilled the mug after realizing he still had some of his earlier brew left, and grabbed a wheat bagel from the freezer to stick in the toaster. He absentmindedly rinsed off his hands as he tried to decide what to do, settling on getting properly dressed. He changed the timing on his toaster, unsure of if it actually did anything, before heading off.
Remy came back to slightly-too-crispy bagel halves and nearly-lukewarm coffee, but at least he was almost ready to go— ahead of schedule, too. He spread a modest amount of peanut butter— a nicer, organic type that he'd splurged on— on the bagel and covered that with strawberries, feeling a small surge of pride at the fact that he was sticking to his decision to eat real and healthy breakfasts awhile ago.
He leaned against the counter as he ate, finally letting himself check his phone. It was the same as usual, for the most part. Before he knew it, he'd been sucked into his Twitter feed and was now running late. He slid his plate into the sink to clean later before he remembered that he wasn't going to be home anytime soon, turning back to quickly wash it by hand.
He rushed through brushing his teeth and put on his shoes, a sturdy set of boots, as quickly as he could. With that, he was out the door—wait no, he forgot his wallet. And his watch, and keys. He stopped the door before it closed and reached in to the table at the door, snagging all three and rushing down the apartment stairs.
He called a cab as he hauled his bag down to the street, then put on his watch while he waited. Remy had always worn a watch, from the time when he was old enough to put it on and take it off on his own. The cab was fast; he was on his way to the departure point minutes after he'd secured the watch on his wrist. It hid the words on his wrist, just as it always had; soulmate phrases like his, especially with the word choice in it, were generally considered taboo to show in public. He wasn't going to risk exposing anything on the first day with this new client.
((Damn, Remy, you haven't even met Sadie and you're already throwing shade with that breakfast.))
Sadie found herself at the lot where the tour bus was parked and waiting at least two hours before it was time to leave, despite having killed as much time as possible driving around browsing fast food places like the menu at a fine dining establishment. Her breakfast gone, she had little to do now, and she sat down on a concrete divider to browse social media.
First was Twitter. This held her attention for a while- she'd received a surge in notifications since this tour had been announced, and she must have scrolled for an hour at least before she noticed the sun climbing up the horizon. The colors bled through the tops of far away trees, casting soft golden light on the bus.
Sadie was by no means a morning person- she'd always been a fan of the nightlife, the crowded bars, loud music, dim lights. These mornings were rare for her, given that she'd normally crash some time in between midnight and sunrise. Something about a peaceful morning, before the sun turned into a little b---- and made the world sticky and unpleasant beneath it, was a treat for her. One that she only ever experienced when anxiety or just the wrong combination of caffeine and alcohol prevented her from sleeping.
She glanced at the clock on her home screen.
Dear god, could time pass any more slowly? She opened Youtube next- she could kill the rest of her free time easily enough by watching and commenting on fanmade covers of her songs, a habit she'd adopted early on in her career. Another half hour passed as she watched attentively, and she turned her phone off only when the others began to show up.
Pine NewbieHe practically leapt out of the cab as it stopped a block away, dragging his duffel bag behind him. With that Remy jogged the rest of the way to where he was told to meet the crew.
It didn't take him long to find the folks he was meant to meet. He wove through the roadies who hadn't packed up to leave yet, choosing to ignore the dirty looks he got from a few of them. He was late. Fortunately it didn't take him long to run into his supervisor.
The guys he was meant to report to on these jobs were always more or less the same— impatient, balding more than expected for their age, usually holding a phone that rarely, if ever, returned to their pocket. He'd had video and phone conversations with this man before, when he wasn't in town yet. They knew each other, but barely. Remy didn't expect to be taller than him.
"Sorry I'm so late," he gasped, switching his duffel bag over to his other shoulder. "Where do you need me for today?"
The man turned around, his frustrated expression becoming tired. Remy tried to remember his name... John? Robert? Something generic. "Just get on the bus. We can figure it out at the next stop."
That was plenty instruction for Remy. He headed over to the bus, stashing his bag with the others before climbing in. It was surprisingly empty, except for a man lounging on one of the padded benches in the kitchenette area. He was holding a cup of fruit, picking at it with a fork but not eating anything. He and Remy made eye contact, and without asking who he was, immediately said, "Who the f--- decides to put melon in fruit medleys?"
Remy's heart skipped a beat at first, a reasonable response to hearing the first few words of your soulmate's greeting. Of course, it didn't line up— imagine having that written on your wrist. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment as he took in his appearance. In any other situation, Remy would probably be attracted to him.
Catching himself, he replied just before his silence seemed weird. "That's what you're signing up for with a fruit medley. I can't blame you though, the name's deceiving."
The guy gave him a weird look before smiling and readjusting to give Remy room to sit. He didn't take it, leaning against the wall instead. This wasn't the star he was working with, right? He tried to remember exactly who, running gigs and dates through his brain. The man came to his rescue again.
"You're Sadie's new bodyguard, right? They mentioned that someone like you," he said, giving Remy a once-over, "was going to be taking Adam's spot, now that he's on leave. Guessing based on your reaction you don't know much about her."
Remy shrugged. "I know the basics, I mean. Specifically she's the one who caused all of that drama about wrist phrases— writing hers into a song, right? Something edgy too, like," he paused, tapping out a beat with his foot as he tried to remember the song. "You and I fight like dogs, spit like snakes. At the end of the day you're my favorite mistake. Right?"
As he spoke, movement towards the back of the bus caught his eye. As the woman walked out towards the two of them, he found himself turning towards her. She probably had her song recited to her all the time. That was what she wanted, right? Still, it made him a little uncomfortable as he realized he was saying the exact words on her wrist.
The man on the bench grinned, like this was what he wanted to happen. "Speak of the devil. Good morning, Sadie."
Sadie stopped dead when she heard the words. She didn't mean to, but in the rare instances in which she heard those words in a more one-on-one type setting, they always made her bristle. She could feel herself getting defensive against her own will, and without much thought, she spat,
"Who the f--- are you?"
Without giving the strange, and very suddenly unwelcome man time to respond, she turned to the one picking in disgust at his fruit cup, and answered him gruffly.
"Morning, Kell. Need some help with that?"
Remy cringed a bit at the woman's words as she approached. He hoped that she didn't notice, or that if she did she chalked it up to the aggression rather than the specific wording. He felt his right hand move a bit, about to grab his left wrist out of instinct. Fortunately, he stopped himself before it looked weird and grabbed his phone from his pocket. Reaching for his wrist right now after just meeting someone— two people, actually, would be too suspicious.
He was relieved when the attention switched away from him and back to the man on the bench, who he now knew as Kell. Kell sighed to Sadie, his breath full with melodramatic anguish. "It's our new tour nutritionist. The fruit's just melon anymore. Who even likes melon?" He paused, stabbing a cube of cantaloupe and glaring at it. "Cantaloupe. Who picked out the new team?"
He pouted for a moment longer, before seeming to get over it. Kell pointed the cantaloupe-fork at Remy, looking up to Sadie. "That's Adam's replacement, by the way. Didn't give me his name though."
So whether Sadie liked it or not, he had to introduce himself now. "The name's Remy Ansel, I'm your new bodyguard. I'll be traveling with you at least through the state, longer if I'm a good fit here."
As positive as he was aiming to be, he was sure it wasn't working. Still, she was technically his boss, and he wasn't going to give her any reason to dislike him more.
The woman plucked the piece of cantaloupe off the extended fork without a word, popping it in her mouth and turning to fix narrowed eyes on Remy.
"Remy? Like, the rat?" she sneered. "Great. What happened to Adam, anyway? I liked him."
Remy sighed. "Unfortunately. But no, it was my grandfather's name." Why was he explaining that? She didn't care.
Meanwhile, Kell had finally settled for picking around the melon, skewering a piece of pineapple as he talked. "His wife had their baby, he left to help out and be around for his kid. I know he didn't want anyone talking about it really, he didn't say anything. He only told me because we're such close friends."
He looked up, meeting Remy's hesitant gaze. Apparently, that was close enough to skepticism to weasel the truth out of him. "Fine. I walked in on him FaceTiming her after a doctor's appointment. But don't tell him I told you."