𝟪 | the calaveras zipline

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klutz .

↳ currently playing ;; ♫[ hot fudge ] - [ vance eris ]↺       <<          ll          >>     ⋮≡ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ————•

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↳ currently playing ;; ♫
[ hot fudge ] - [ vance eris ]
↺       <<          ll          >>     ⋮≡
ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ————•

"𝓝o—no, T what the hell are you doing again?" If it isn't obvious enough Uncle Jonah is annoyed at T, irked even—he slung his headphones around his neck letting go of the intercom button after the boys had heard his reprimand.

In the other side of the room is the rest of them whining that this has been the third time Aaron T seemingly—and I mean, purposely messed up the flow of their session.

"Uh, just adding a little something to the song—My vocals deserves the listeners' main focus." It's been an hour and T hasn't been cooperating with my uncle, Why is that? He looked at me through the glass barrier from the other room and I conveyed a smile that says 'Please just abide to your manager.'

My uncle clucks his tongue in disapproval and sighed tapping back onto their two way communication system, "Okay this is obviously not working out, Enough practice for today—tomorrow, We'll do a few minutes of warm ups with Z and after that, It's the real deal alright? We can't delay the release, Now scram!"

My very own headphones echoed with their cheers, finally removing the heavy band off my head I eyed them exit out of the room, the boys pushed T around like a vultures' prey. It looks like they weren't fond of what he did back there too, and I'm not sure if he just did it for comedic purposes—or to just piss people off.

I watched him strutting towards me, he lets out a nervous chuckle scratching the back of his neck, and I playfully punched his shoulder standing up from where I'm seated, "You were doing that on purpose weren't you." I mumbled low enough for my uncle not to notice,

"Duh!"

"But why you nitwit!" The energy has shifted, a shadow of stern sheathed over his expression, he longingly stares at the ground, What is it?

"Don't laugh okay?" My eyes widened in anticipation and I just nodded—grabs a hold of my arm pulling me farther away from where the rest of the crowd is, the entire time he's dragging me all I could think of is: It can't be that bad—then we stopped by the end of the hallway where we both panted to catch the lost breath.

"You also have to promise not to tell anyone." He's honestly starting to scare me, my face scrunched up in utter confusion. It really can't be that bad.

"I promise! Just spit it out!" Exasperated, I crossed my arms and he heaves out a sigh recollecting himself before answering.

 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓 | 4townWhere stories live. Discover now