The Voice of An Angel, the Voice of the Devil || DNF

404; why the hell are you so gorgeous?

The car ride to the studio was quiet. Music played softly on the aux as Wilbur and Evander hummed along. Quackity and Tommy were messing with something on Tommy's phone, and George leaned his head against the window and watched the world go on in a blur.

It was a comfortable silence.

When they arrived, they went straight to their dressing rooms and a young lady--George's favorite--named Forest was waiting for him.

"George! Are you ready for tonight?" she asked as she handed him his outfit for the night. He couldn't exactly tell what it was, even though it was him who helped Evander pick them out.

He shrugged. "I mean, yeah, obviously. I love performing but I honestly hate the fact that Take Me To Hell is with us for the next couple of concerts."

Forest tilted her head as she walked with him. "Really? Why's that?"

George stopped in front of his dressing room, the door slightly opened. "You know why. It's Dream. And I'm happy for them, I really am, but it's just so goddamn annoying that we're so close every time, and every time I think we made it, Take Me To Hell is right there."

She tilted her head. "Okay, that explains why you don't like the band, but why don't you like Dream?"

He frowned and said, "He's kind of a dick, and that's way different than what I expected."

She raised an eyebrow as George began closing the door. "Oh? What were you expecting?"

He shut the door in her face and scowled as she laughed on the opposite side. Instead of going on with the conversation, she said, "Tell me when you're done. You four are wearing make up tonight!"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered as he placed the clothes down on a stool and began unraveling the pile, looking at the simple baby blue sweater and white jeans ending at the ankles.

George tilted his head. "I don't remember choosing this."

"Evander mixed and matched!" Forest responded.

With a roll of his eye and a mutter of "of course he did", George quickly changed. He opened the door and Forest perked up.

"That looks great on you, dude," she said.

He smiled with a "thanks" as she led him to where the band members always got their makeup and hair done--if they did get something done. Tommy and Quackity were already there, but Wilbur was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Wil?" George asked as he sat down.

Tommy shrugged. "Taking forever, per usual."

George laughed a little as he sat back and let Forest deal with his hair. He chatted with the other two until Wilbur came. They teased him about taking forever and trying to be a pretty boy. Wilbur scowled and flipped them off as he sat down on the other side of George.

Forest then moved onto his makeup, and George--having quite literally zero knowledge on makeup, even if they did use makeup quite often for concerts--let her do whatever she wanted, not worrying whether it would turn out good or not, George knew it'd be great.

When she finished, George looked at himself through the mirror before him and said, "Wait, I look pretty good."

Thick wings and a shade of blue that matched his shirt outlined his eyes, bringing out the doe-like eyes that his friends seemed to love. More was done to his face, but as he said, he had no idea what.

Wilbur laughed beside him. "Uh oh, you're going to make him cocky."

It was George's turn to flip off the taller man as he stood up and stretched. He hadn't noticed that Tommy and Quackity had left, already finished and probably grabbing a snack before they began their drive to where they would be performing--somewhere down in Brighton.

When George and Wilbur finished, they thanked the two ladies in the room before heading into the main area. And, George had guessed correctly, because the two younger band members were eating donuts from the open box on the counter.

"Don't get it on your clothes," Wilbur said.

"We aren't two," Tommy scoffed.

With that and a couple of words from Evander, the five got in the car, with Tommy immediately calling the passenger seat so he could put on his choice of music.

When they arrived and entered backstage, Take Me To Hell was already waiting. Techno and Dream were talking quietly, Karl was strumming his guitar gently, and Ranboo was talking to Lynx.

Dream looked up as the five walked in. He gave a lopsided grin and said, "Oh! 404 has arrived; you ready, sweetheart?"

George's jaw dropped for a split second before he snapped, "Do not call me that!"

Dream's wicked smile never left as he turned away from Techno and walked over. He lifted his hand for a high-five from Tommy without ever breaking his gaze from George's. "Okay, fine... sweetheart."

George groaned exasperatedly as he turned to Evander and Lynx. Lynx said, "Did Dream tell you the layout of how y'all are going to sing?"

The brunet tilted his head. "Uh, no?"

Lynx scoffed playfully. "Of course he didn't. Anyways..."

George wasn't paying attention to Lynx entirely. Instead, his eyes wandered over to the other band grouped up and laughing with his members. Dream was in clear view of him, and George couldn't help but notice his outfit for tonight.

Tight black jeans with rips scattered about, black converse, and a white button- up with a couple undone.

He looked good, and George fucking hated the fact that he thought so.