The World Will Stain Us

Golden Gods, Part III

A/N: I swear I'm not dead! So sorry for the late update, I've been struggling with severe writer's block for the last two weeks and then I went on vacation.

CW: Epilepsy, parts of Andy's "speech" that could be read as fatphobic

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Jake was getting far too used to seeing the facade of Club Nokia, he thought.

While it was certainly exciting that they were back at the Golden Gods for the third year in a row (a feat that Andy consistently reminded them had not been accomplished by any other band), Jake was growing tired of the repetitiveness.

The routine was the same―arrive, unload, pile into the crowded backstage, spend anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour waiting for their turn, take ten minutes to pile onstage, accept the award, and give a short speech, then file backstage again for the rest of the show. It was a lot of standing around waiting, and Jake wasn't a fan―especially since they weren't allowed to leave.

Though, he reflected as they pulled into the parking lot outside Club Nokia, his boyfriends would definitely help pass the time.

They'd been on tour as their two-year anniversary came and went, but they'd celebrated it accordingly; Jake remembered that night mostly in a haze of laughter and his boyfriends' lips, and smiled every time he thought of it. The tour had continued as tours did, until the confusing mess of flights that CC had been so concerned about were upon them and they were crashing as the sun rose into Andy's sheets to catch some sleep before the awards show that night.

And now they were back.

"I still can't believe we're here for the third year in a row," Andy said as they piled out of the car, staring up at the club's facade. "How did that even happen?"

"We're just that good," Jake laughed, wrapping his arms around the singer's waist and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"And the Army is very vocal," Jinxx noted, grinning. "We wouldn't have won at all if not for them."

"We might've," CC said. "'In the End' is popular even among those who don't know us." He smiled. "But it's fucking epic that the Army's so devoted."

Andy turned in Jake's arms to kiss him properly, then looked back at the club. "We ready for this?"

"Are we ever?" Jake pointed out, and Andy grinned.

"Fair enough." He took CC's hand and led the way towards the doors.

Jinxx fell into step beside Jake, intertwining their fingers. "I'm not prepared for the crush of people," he said softly.

Jake shook his head. "Me neither. It's a lot to handle. And I don't think we're on until late in the show, either."

Jinxx sighed. "I know awards shows are a big deal, but I don't see why all the hype is necessary. Just present the bands, play the music, and move on―we don't need all the extra speeches and shit."

Jake glanced at him. "It may not be necessary, but it keeps fans engaged," he said. "Which is good, because a bored audience is likely to be a rude one."

Jinxx sighed. "Maybe I'm still stuck in the 1800s where that wasn't really a thing."

Jake grinned. "Wasn't really a thing, huh?"

Jinxx shrugged. "Back then, the only concerts were symphony shows, and those only for the rich since the working class largely couldn't afford tickets. Rich aristocrats would fill a theater's atrium, chat about whatever the rich chatted about, and then take their seats and watch the show with only a brief introduction of the orchestra from the conductor. No hecklers, no flashing light shows, no excess dramatization and speeches in between pieces. I know it's different than an awards show regardless, which definitely didn't exist back then, but...I don't know, I guess I kind of preferred that atmosphere to the one we're about to enter." He paused. "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"