Drabble #1: Orion Learns Internet Lingo (Patreon)

I was asked to write this scene and it made me giggle x thank u Sahara for commenting that because now I can't get over it lol 

quick and short, but now its officially in the Universe lol

Orion walks through the hall with his head down, his mind still piecing itself together from the onslaught of questions back in BOTB's studio. As manager, he thought he'd ride the tour's proverbial wave with relative ease. Managers aren't important, are they? They're not needed for anything beyond playing the role of professional guide post for bands who are anything but, and to serve as a convenient marketing ploy to show the audience that yes, music does happen. He's no band member, therefore he's not a cast member, which means he should've been left blissfully alone to waste away in his hotel room while the cast fulfill their contractual duties. Being part of the show means doing promotion, and sometimes that promotion consists of sitting in front of a camera, answering asinine questions that fans bring in because they are nothing if not curious of their favorite artists, curious of all their quirks, their likes everything in between. This is price of fame, as they say.

Orion should've been safe from that.

Unfortunately, he is not, and not only is he forced to walk around with this wretched mic strapped to his back, but he's expected to join in on the show's promotional activities he finds useless at best and demeaning at worst. God. Those questions made his head ache. He can only imagine what the rest are going to look like when they're scheduled to return.

But that's not what's important. What's important is finding Rowan.

Because he needs him.

"Gross," Orion mumbles as he quickens his pace through the hall. It's rare Orion needs anyone, even rarer he needs Rowan. Needing Rowan means trouble. It means that you're likely trying to find answers to ridiculous internet memes, answers to questions no one wants answers to, or information about something that is probably banned in multiple countries. Rowan Hart's brain is an endless well of knowledge that will probably make Orion blush.

But his curiosity has won this time. Damn you, thirst for knowledge.

The slip of paper burns in his pocket as he walks to the lounge. Rowan is likely taking his lunch break with the rest of the band. They've been at it since eight a.m. this morning. Even fifteen minute internet videos require hours of work.

His pace slows when he reaches the entrance to the lounge, where the band members sit sprawled on beanbags as they scarf down takeout food the crew bought. Rowan and August chat neutrally as [MC] watches a video with Devyn and Iris at their side.

Frowning, he reads the slip again, flinching at the words. He supposes he sort of understands? He's not old, but he's not big on social media either. [MC] had to explain to him what 'Rule 34' was (he regrets asking), and Iris spent fifteen minutes breaking down Rowan's nonsensical texts that are rife with silly GIFs and internet references that read more like hieroglyphics to him.

Is he out of touch? No. He likes to call it blissfully detached.

He saunters over to the group, and they all glance up at once. He doesn't look at anyone but Rowan, staring down at the boy who has his phone on his lap, watching what looks like a man playing a video game. "I need to speak with you."

Rowan stares at Orion, a noodle hanging from his mouth. "Fhwhaht?"

He huffs. "I have..." he looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets in an uncomfortable fidget, "...a question."

"Ooh." Iris sits up, grinning wildly. "A question? You never come to us for help. Is this a first?"

"It definitely is," [MC] says with a snort.

"I'm not asking for help--"

"Am I in trouble?" Rowan whines after slurping his noodle. "I swear I didn't mean to break the vase in the hall. It just...fell...conveniently...after my elbow knocked it over."

"What?" Orion blinks, and then shakes his head. "No. That's not what this is about."

"Oh." He barks out a laugh. "In that case, forget what I just said." He turns his body fully, leaning over with a wink. "So you've come to me for my services? I never thought I'd see the day."

"Neither did I," Orion says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"What is it?" Devyn asks, with more sincerity than both Iris and Rowan. "Maybe we could all help."

Orion takes another look around, feeling uncomfortable under the eyes of the group. In many ways, Orion is like their parent. He should be the one with the answers, the wise old crone in the stories who seems to always be one step ahead. When it comes to things that people his age should know about, it makes him feel a bit out of his depth. His old friend, Marty, would know the answer to this. Many of his old friends would.

He fishes the slip from his hand and lifts it in the air. "I need some clarification."

"Ugh." Rowan rolls his eyes. "Those questions. You know, I feel like they totally plant some in there for the drama."

"You don't say," Iris says flatly.

"Mine didn't seem all that bad," August pipes in.

"Nothing is ever bad to you because you're just..." Iris waves vaguely at them. "Too cool to care."

"I really like how you insist I'm cool," August says, face blank. "Thanks."

"See?" Iris gestures. "I can't even tell if that's genuine or not."

They laugh.

"We're getting off track," Rowan says, eyes still on Orion. "What do you need me to clarify?"

Orion stands there. He feels his face burn. His whole body burns, actually. Oh God, he's--

"Are you blushing?" [MC] blurts, wide-eyed.

He blinks, and then quickly turns away. "This was a mistake."

"Wait!" Rowan stands, and August fumbles to make sure Rowan's food doesn't topple over. He saunters over to a blushing Orion, his hands in his back pockets. "You came to me, right? Just tell me."

Orion nods in relief. "Okay."

It earns them both a choir of boos and comments like 'no fair' and 'that's so lame' but Rowan simply grins and guides Orion a few feet away. They stand close, heads bent low to look at the slip in Orion's hand.

"So?" Rowan prods, unable to hide his interest. "What's up?"

He looks at him, quirking a brow. "Promise not to laugh?"

Rowan's brows lift. Orion has never been this vulnerable. Usually, he doesn't care about getting laughed at, but for some reason, this feels a bit...embarrassing, to say the least. Rowan puts one palm against his heart, the other lifted in the air, right next to his grin.  "Scout's honor."

Orion shakes his head, not believing it for a second, but he unravels the slip anyway. "Can you explain this to me? It was one of the questions someone asked during my Q&A segment."

Rowan glances at Orion before looking down at the paper, reading it aloud. "Slutty waist AND man tits why are you a whore (affectionate)?"

There's a beat of shocked silence, and then Rowan quickly looks at Orion, slapping a hand over his mouth. It doesn't help the muffled sound leave his lips.

Orion drops his hand, irritated. "You said you wouldn't laugh."

"I'm not," Rowan says, but then he gasps out a sound that makes it obvious he's trying to physically swallow his laughter. "Um. You really don't know what that means? It's pretty self-explanatory."

"Is it?" Orion frowns, rereading it. He's used to not being in on the joke, but not being in on the joke and not knowing what the joke is feels like two different things sometimes.

"Well." Rowan puts his hands on his hips, chewing on his cheek. "I'll break it down for you--"

"Break what down?" Iris appears, grabbing the slip from Orion's hand. "I'll take that, thank you."

Both Rowan and Orion reach out to grab it back, but she's quicker, and reads it aloud.

Immediately, the group fall into a choir of laughter, mockery, and more. Orion is left to stand there, soaking in their teasing as they process the question.

"Alright, alright." He raises a palm. "Just explain it to me so we can be done with this."

"Well." Rowan claps his hands together like a professor trying to get the attention of the class. "August?"

August, who currently holds the paper, rereads it with a twisted expression on their face. "Slutty waist?"

"Pffft." Iris throws herself back on the chair and laughs. "You know what? I don't disagree with that."

"What does that mean?" Orion puts his hands on his hips, doing a slow turn. "It's a compliment, surely."

"I must be dreaming," [MC] says absently.

"I wish I was," Devyn adds.

"It means-" Rowan gestures vaguely at Orion's body. "It's just... it's very...cinched?"

"Cinched?" he blurts.

"You're just very..." Rowan fails to find the word, resulting in him awkwardly putting a thumbs up. He then drops it and looks around in realization. "Oh, wow. I'm surprisingly uncomfortable right now."

Iris clicks her tongue and grabs the slip from August. She reads it, frowning. "Why don't we get questions like this?" She looks over to August. "Did you get a question like this?"

August shakes their head very slowly. "Thankfully, no."

Clicking their tongue, [MC] grabs the slip. It's starting to look like a game of hot potato with the way it's making its rounds around the group.

"Man tits?" MC snorts. "I mean--"

"Self explanatory, as I said," Rowan mentioned.

Orion lets out a deep sigh. "You know? We don't need to do this. This is internet stuff I realized I'd rather be ignorant to--"

"Well," Rowan cuts in, "you're like a piece of freshly baked bread that's just been taken out of the oven."

Orion thinks about it a moment, surprisingly flattered. "Thank you." 

"Gross?" Iris blurts.

"I kind of see that," August adds.

"As for the whore part..." Rowan grins. "It's meant to be complimentary."

Orion rears back. "Complimentary?" That's what the producer said, but he didn't believe it.

"Yeah." Rowan shrugs. "Most people like bread, you know? You can dip it...bake it...toast it. Slather it with oil...very...whorish...food." Rowan narrows his eyes as he speaks. He's definitely lost the plot.

Iris shakes her head. "What are you saying right now?"

Devyn puts their head down, snorting.

"This is what happens when there's no HR department," [MC] says flatly.

"Even though you're not my type," Rowan continues as if no one spoke, "you're kind of a catch, man."

Orion makes a face, folds his arms, and then quickly drops them. "Why...why am I not your type?"

"What?" Rowan blurts.

He shrugs a shoulder. "If it's not my appearance, it must be my personality."

Rowan looks both amused and confused. "Why do you care?"

"He's using us as a focus group," Iris jokes.

"Is it my personality?" Orion asks. "You can say it."

The group is silent. Iris and Devyn share a look only they know the language of, and [MC] awkward scratches their neck. August looks between Rowan and Orion, lips parted in muted amusement.

"You're kind of..." Rowan weighs his palms as he thinks of the word, "a mood killer. Your vibes are totally off, like all the time. I can't be with someone who makes me feel like I'm always in the middle of a pop quiz."

August turns away, shoulders shaking as they stifle a laugh. MC and Iris share a snicker as Devyn looks at Orion pitying, unable to stop their agreeing nod.

Orion stands there, unmoving. Then he stalks forward and snatches the paper from [MC].

"Hey!"

"Thanks. I was just curious." He waves the paper in the air. "We don't talk about this. This conversation never happened."

Rowan raises his palms in mock-surrender.

Orion turns away, zooming out of the lounge. He could feel eyes on him and his neck flares with heat. If he were a weaker man, he probably would've quit because of this. 

He blows out a breath. This tour better be worth it.