whenshewasnice | Some Festival, Somewhere, Thursday FT

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Some Festival, Somewhere, Thursday FT

Some shows seemed similar, blending into each other until Envy's recent past seemed like one big blur of stages and stages and stages that were all essentially the same.

And then some shows were wholly special. Some shows happened during sunset on stages under a big tent, with a gentle breeze blowing from the ocean. Some shows had Envy jumping and bouncing around the stage in her short sequined dress and feeling happy.

Some shows made it feel like everything was possible.

Some shows made it feel like it didn't matter whether everything was possible, because this was all that mattered. The stage and the breeze and the sunset and the sequins, and the roar and energy and smiles of the crowd.

This made everything else worth it.

[ooc: NFB but open for calls/texts/emails afterwards!]

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Peter had a few spare moments to himself - and a rudimentary idea of when Envy was done performing.

So her phone was running.

Envy was in the back of a taxi, halfway to her hotel when he called. No more sequins, but not yet the vaguely clinical solitude of a hotel room, either.

"Hello, Peter."

"Hello, Envy," Peter said, his mouth curving into a smile. "And good evening. How was the crowd?"

"Wild."

That was definitely the vibe she'd had through the show.

"Also drunk. These things are probably related."

"They do tend to correlate terrifyingly well, very often," Peter joked. "Did you enjoy it?"

"I'll send you the best of Instagram later so you can see just how much." Well. She was pretty sure it had showed on her face how much she'd enjoyed it. "It was a good show. A little different, I haven't really been playing festivals before."

"How is it different?" Peter asked, settling back against the sofa. "A show's a show, isn't it?"

"A show's a show, but a club isn't a festival," Envy replied. "It's not the same vibe. I'm not at a point yet where people come to a festival to see me, specifically. So to win over a crowd like that is special."

"Does it feel like a struggle?" Peter asked. "Winning over a crowd who isn't there for you?"

"Sometimes."

There were some muted voices in the background: the driver telling her they were almost at the hotel.

"But the only thing I can do is put as much of myself into it as I do every night. And if it doesn't work, then I guess that's a place we can consider crossing off the list."

Edited 2017-07-14 18:23 (UTC)

"Find a different path to victory," Peter mused, looking up at the ceiling. "Remind me - how many stops until you get home?"

Envy gave a little sigh. "Many."

They were numerous enough that 'many' covered it well enough. Wasn't coming home this week or the next.

Peter sighed. "I could make room for an afternoon, if you'll have me."

While she was getting out of the car, it was Envy's turn to have at least one side of her lips quirk into a smile. "Of course."

"When've you got some time?" Peter asked.

Not that he missed her, or anything. Perish the thought.

Far be it from the Hegemon to miss some singer.

She looked up at the hotel. At the fancier end of the mid-price range. "Most evenings." A beat. "They're evenings where I am, anyway. Multiverse, time differences. It's a whole thing."

Peter tapped his fingers against the edge of the sofa. "How about now?"

Oh, look. The smile was now accidentally a smirk.

"I'm in front of a hotel and not going anywhere else before the morning."

"Good," Peter said.

And then he hung up. He didn't see the point in wasting much time when neither of them had much of it.

Edited 2017-07-15 07:35 (UTC)

Envy still snorted at the abrupt ending to the call.

Then she went and got herself checked in. Her room was ready, complete with a bottle of champagne and a congratulatory note from her tour manager.

Along with a reminder of tomorrow's schedule. Business as usual.

She had maybe ten minutes to settle in - then the knock came.

Peter leaned idly against the wall. It'd been a few weeks.

Ten minutes was long enough for her to set some things out for the morning. And to pour herself a glass of champagne, and to brush the extravagant stage curls out of her hair.

She was still holding the brush when she came to the door. "You're looking awfully idle for someone who traveled across the multiverse just to see me."

"Maybe I had business here," Peter said breezily. "Diplomatic relations."

"Of course, how silly of me."

She opened the door wider, and gestured inside.

Peter breezed past her as breezily as he'd spoken, putting his overnight bag down on the floor. "Nice hotel room," he said. "Lots of personality."

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