Chapter Text
Robert’s alarm blares far too early in the morning. He considers ignoring it and rolling over for a few more hours sleep in his hotel bed. As he stretches to hit the snooze button and do just that, he lets out a groan when he remembers that he has a sound check and dress rehearsal today and Lawrence will actually kill him if he misses it.
If someone had told Robert that he’d still be the lead member of a pop ensemble (he flat out refused to call it a boy band—always has, always will) when he was 29, he would have laughed in their face. Lawrence White, who had a track record of creating successful male pop bands, saw something in him, paid for his singing and dance lessons, and the rest was history. He joined Layby Lads, along with Joe Tate and a whole slew of Bartons (Finn, Ross, and Matty) when he was 19, the oldest in a ragtag group of ridiculously over scrubbed young boys. They started out singing in malls and at teen club openings, but soon their infectious pop sound spread like wildfire across the world. It didn’t take long for them to be at the forefront of the resurgence of pop—selling out stadiums, sitting for lavish spreads in teen magazines, giving performances and interviews on Total Request Live, and time hasn’t slowed down since. Fast forward a decade, and while their singles don’t climb as high and maybe they have fewer tour dates, they still sell out every show they book.
He reluctantly sits up in bed and throws his legs off the side and stands up to start his morning routine. His back twinges, his shoulders ache, and was that pain in his knee there yesterday? He never feels more his age than first thing in the morning. He stumbles into the bathroom and turns on the light. He shouldn’t have because he looks into the mirror and almost slams the light switch down. The lines around his eyes look deeper than they did just a few hours before, and the bags under his eyes were so dark it looks like he’s been punched. He looks at the expansive counter beneath him, already considering what product would make him feel a little less almost 30.
As Robert drives to the Leeds arena for sound check and rehearsal for their show the following night, he tries to move out from underneath his dark mood. His mood tends to depend on how many articles there are about the direction their music is going as they get older, how loud the whispers are that Matty is thinking of going solo, and every day he gets closer to his 30th birthday. He runs his hands through his blond spiked hair, shakes his head, and gets out of the car, determined to put his all into the rehearsal and forget all of this aging nonsense. He was still wanted by men and women around the world and if that’s not an ego boost, Robert doesn’t know what is.
He makes his way to his dressing room (thank god this arena had enough space so they could all have their own space–as much as he loves his fellow band members, there’s only so much of Joe’s smugness and Ross’ brand of wit Robert can take in one day). He refuses to look in the mirror again, choosing instead to focus on getting into his clothes for the first part of the show. Long gone are the days of matching jumpsuits and neon clothing–something for which Robert is beyond grateful. The first part of this show has them in far more comfortable clothing–tight t-shirts, fitted jeans and fashionable trainers. The audience will be appreciative.
He walks to the stage to stretch and get his blood flowing before they begin the arduous task of perfecting the sound and making sure that their dances are perfectly choreographed and in sync. The rest of the boys are already there and Robert gives them all a quick hug. “Took your time getting here, Sugden,” Ross says under his breath, earning a slap on the head by Matty, which didn’t stop him. “Couldn’t get away from your latest conquest? Lass or lad this time?”
Robert’s sexuality, once a sensitive topic, is now something that is just generally accepted. He came out as bisexual shortly after their first album went platinum. There was the expected media ruckus but for the most part his declaration just gained him even more fans. He was young, fit, and rich and now both men and women fawned over him equally. It's a tough job but someone has to do it.
Matty shoves Ross and rolls his eyes. “Ignore him, please. Are we ready for this, lads? Sold out show to over 15,000 fans! This is our biggest show in years.” Matty’s excitement is infectious–Robert starts to feel like he did when they were first starting out. Young girls chanting their names, crying over them, singing their songs loudly in the audience. They all begin jumping around the stage like puppies, warming themselves up and stretching. Finn, the constant worrier, calls over to Robert, “Do we have the final set list for tomorrow? I know you were making changes yesterday.” Before he can answer, the most beautiful man Robert has ever seen in his entire life walks on stage, wearing a headset and looking down at a checklist in his hands. Robert’s brain short circuits and his mouth drops open, like an actual idiot.
He stops, mid stretch and just continues staring. The man looks up at Robert and that does it. He’s got a scruffy beard, gelled hair, an absolutely fuckable mouth and the bluest eyes Robert had ever seen. His dick stiffens immediately which is frankly just embarrassing for a grown man to admit. Robert quickly looks out over the empty seats, willing his erection to just give him a break, ya know? The man walks over to Robert (because of course he does) and holds out his hand. “Aaron. I’m part of the sound tech crew here at the arena and it looks like you’re mine today. I’ll be getting you set up for the rehearsal and for tomorrow night’s show.” Robert’s not a religious man but commits to going to church as a thank you to whomever made this a reality. These thoughts meant that Robert had neglected to actually, you know, shake Aaron’s hand. All he had done was stare. Aaron scowls and pulls his hand back. “Great. Well, nice to meet you…” he glances down at his sheet of paper and then looks back up, “Robert.” He starts to walk away, and Robert blurts out, “Oh, didn’t know who I was? How is that possible?” (Smart move, Sugden). Aaron gives a short laugh. “Some of us aren’t 15 year old girls, mate.”