Emo Trinity x Reader (Book 2)

Drabble Challange: Dallon Weekes x Reader

Prompt 2: "How long have you been standing there?"

Prompt 123: "Oh, did i scare you, big boy?"
Word count: 2 153 (Not a drabble anymore. Do I care? No. I just know now that I'm bad at writing short things.)

Lazily you walked down the corridor. The house you were in looked inconspicuous from the outside, but inside studios, sounds labs, and offices, all belonging to the label you were employed at, were situated.

It was getting dark outside, and you felt a little ripped out of time. You had spent the entire day inside a windowless studio, helping a band to record parts of their new album. You did not know them, they were new to the label, and while they were all very friendly in the beginning, they had grown more and more grumpy the further the time processed.

You did not blame them; you knew how exhausting it was to get the music out of their heads and out into the world. Luckily most bickering had been taken place between the band members, but you were glad to be out of there none the less. Almost twelve hours of being trapped in a dark room, with blinking, glimmering lights, separate sounds of different instruments, and only some Chinese take-out and tea to keep your strengths, always felt weird, like you had been on a trip to an alien planet.

Moving your feet had felt strange after all the hours in a huge chair, and the corridor seemed less real than the weird repeating of drum rhythms in your head.

The sounds that were still playing over and over in your memory got mixed up with the gentle strumming of an unplugged electric bass, and slowly a warm voice, humming a soft melody, seeped into your conscious.

Halting your steps you tried pulling yourself back into reality, until you finally identified the direction the sounds came from. It was not unusual for the studios being occupied in the night; many musicians were a lot more productive after sunset. But when you followed the sweet melody, that engulfed you like a warm blanket of honey and lulled you in, you found that it was not a studio from which the music sounded, but rather one of the break rooms.

Curiously you spied inside. The room was small, no windows. On two of the walls sofas were lined up, a coffee table standing between them. On one side of the room there was a side board with a coffee machine and cups, as well as milk and sugar sticks. A few magazines were placed on the lower board of the table.

And on one of the sofas sat Dallon. He was facing the door, but had his head lowered, the bass resting in his lap, and his fingers skipping over the strings in a never ending flow of little tucks and strums. From what you could see, he had his eyes closed. Which was a pity, because he had very nice eyes. But it also allowed you to watch him a little longer.

It had been a while since you had last worked with his band, or rather the duo he was playing in. You had been one of the people who had helped Dallon and his bandmate Ryan to turn their debut EP into what they had envisioned.

It had been nice working with them. You had known them for a while already, and they were great to work with. Dallon seemed to be the visionary of the band, but appreciated Ryan's suggestion which always ended up completing the songs in just the perfect way. Dallon was very precise on how he wanted things to turn out, and it was your job to tell the machines to do what he envisioned, but much to your content he was, unlike some other musicians, always very patient, when it took you a moment or two to understand the atmosphere he was aiming for. And he always thanked you over and over when the songs eventually came together the way he had wished them to.

You liked him, this you were sure of. And not just because he was a good musician. He was kind, funny, nerdy, not to mention incredibly beautiful. But probably also not interested in you.