Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

JANUARY 14

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Jasper says for the hundredth time. He’s pouting, and even though Monty knows he’s making the right choice, he still wants to give in and unpack and tell Raven she needs to find a different roommate.

“I know,” he says, instead of explaining that even though he doesn’t have to, he wants to. He loves Jasper, and he adores Maya. Maya is sweet and sharp and definitely going to say yes when Jasper invites her to move in later tonight. Monty has spent three years watching them make eyes at (and occasionally make out with) each other. This has been a long time coming.

Monty loves Maya, and he loves Jasper, and they’re great for each other, but he refuses to live with them both. He’s known he was going to move out since Jasper first mentioned that he wanted Maya to move in. It’s nothing personal, but they’d be hard to stomach together 24/7 even if he hadn’t been hopelessly in love with Jasper for most of high school. Even though that crush is long gone, that’s still a situation worth avoiding.

“No, really,” Jasper presses, and there’s a raw note to it that makes Monty look at him. Jasper’s eyes are wide and a little sad. “If you want to stay, then stay. It’s fine.”

The fact that he means it - that he’d suck it up and live with Monty when he’d rather be with Maya - makes Monty square his shoulders and say “No, c’mon, Raven’s waiting.”

Raven’s apartment isn’t far from Jasper’s, and all of Monty’s belongings fit in three suitcases, so Jasper takes two, Monty takes the third, and they walk together. It’s an unnervingly quiet trip. Jasper normally chatters as easily as he breathes, and Monty loves listening to it. But now he has nothing to listen to. In fact, he realizes with a jolt, this is probably his last chance to be alone with Jasper for weeks. They don’t have many classes together - electrical engineering and chemistry don’t exactly overlap - and for the first time since possibly birth, they’re not going to see each other on a daily basis.

Monty racks his brain for something to talk about. There’s no way he’s going to let his last few minutes with Jasper go by in silence. Sports? No, baseball season doesn’t start for a few months. Movies? They haven’t gone together in months. Maya? It’s a good way to be sure that Jasper talks, but Monty’s not ready to listen to that.

Jasper clears his throat loudly, and Monty pulls himself out of his head to look at him. He’s smiling fondly, and it makes Monty’s heart clench. This is what he’s leaving.

“You were talking,” Monty guesses.

“I was talking.” Jasper grins. “But if you’re more concerned with whatever you’ve got going on in your head than making sure we stop in front of the right building, then keep on thinking.”

“The right-” Monty looks up, and they’re indeed in front of Raven’s building. No, wait, his building now. That’s going to take getting used to. “Oh.”

“Let me guess.” Jasper nudges his shoulder. “You’re trying to figure out how to stop global warming with the power of static electricity and forgot to stop walking.”

Monty knows it’s a joke, but he can’t help running through the possibilities in his head. It only takes a second to decide that it’s pointless, but when Monty pulls himself back to reality, Jasper’s smiling at him again.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he laughs, trying to hide the uncomfortable pull in his chest.

“You were just trying to figure it out,” Jasper says, mock-accusingly. “Monty Green, don’t you know how science works?”

“You’re the scientist in this relationship. I’m the engineer.” Monty shrugs. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Monty met Raven when she showed up to the first day of math class fifteen minutes late, hair falling out of her ponytail and grease smudged across her cheeks. She slid into the seat next to him, out of breath, and he handed her his thermos of coffee. “You’re my new best friend,” she whispered before downing a third of it, and that had been that. Every day, she sat next to him, drank some of his coffee, and argued with him whenever they got different answers on homework problems. She was a good friend.

It’d been easy setting up a move-in date. She knew Jasper, she understood the situation, and she needed someone to help out with rent. (“It’s not that I can’t afford it,” she’d explained to Monty, when he first called her to talk about moving in. “But I have this friend who has a complex about helping people, and also happens to be rich. So she insists on helping me out with the rent. Most of the rent, really.”

“Is that really something worth complaining about?” Monty wondered. He hadn’t grown up as badly as he suspected Raven had, but having someone offer to help with rent didn’t seem like the worst of all fates.

“Would you let Jasper pay your part of the rent because he’s, quote, ‘just worried about your personal finances?’” she asked. Monty considered it and decided that he would hate that, and he stopped asking.) Raven’s name will be the only one on the lease, but Monty will pay her back half of rent and help with groceries and so on.

They already have a system in place. Everything is set. There is absolutely nothing to worry about. So naturally, Monty feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest as he and Jasper make their way to Raven’s second-floor apartment. He knows, logically, that he has nothing to worry about. Raven is great, and they get along, and her rich friend got them some furniture. He’s still going to see Jasper, either around campus or when one of them visits the other. Hell, Jasper Snapchats him every five minutes when they’re in the same room; there’s no way that’ll change when he moves out. There is nothing to worry about.

“Ready to move in?” Jasper asks, bumping his shoulder against Monty’s, and there’s a quarter-second where Monty is ready to say no, let’s go home.

Instead, he grins. “Course I am. Let’s get this show on the road.” And he knocks on the door to Apartment 2F.

It feels like a personal victory. He’s lived either with or directly next to Jasper as long as he can remember, and he knows that it’s developed into… not quite codependence, but something close. He relies on Jasper as a constant, something that doesn’t change when every other variable does. And now he’s subtracting the constant and changing the equation. It’s terrifying, of course, but it’s also exciting.

Raven opens the door immediately, smiling broadly at them. “Welcome to mi casa,” she says, then looks at Monty. “Whoops, nuestra casa, right? Let’s get you moved in. Also, check out all this shit Clarke bought for you.”

Apparently Clarke, the rich friend, had been so excited that Raven was getting a roommate that she’d gone to a Goodwill and bought half the furniture section. Next to Raven’s shitty old couch, there’s a huge, squishy-looking armchair and a coffee table that are definitely new. Monty’s bedroom, formerly Raven’s pseudo-workshop with the random burn marks on the wall to prove it, has not just an already-made bed, but a nightstand and a dresser.

“Remind me to thank Clarke when I meet her,” Monty tells Raven, staring at the new furniture. “How rich is she exactly?”

“Her mom works for the government. And used to be a surgeon. And her dad was a civil engineer with a lot of life savings.” Raven shrugs. “I’ve never asked her, but I think she’s really, really rich.”

“I need a rich friend,” Jasper mutters. He puts the suitcases on top of the dresser, looking around the room speculatively. “Or maybe I need to move in.”

“That would defeat the entire point of all of this,” Monty says reasonably. Jasper pouts at him, and Monty can’t help but stick his tongue out in reply. (Childish? Maybe. Worth watching Jasper and Raven’s faces scrunch up into laughter? Absolutely.)

“Damn it,” Jasper sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “So… were you going to unpack now, or later, or did you want help, or…” He pauses, looking at his feet, the ludicrously fluffy pillow, the closet door, anywhere but at Monty.

“Um.” Monty looks at Raven, who offers them both sympathetic looks and makes her way out of the room. No help on that front, then. He looks back at Jasper, who’s now determinedly watching the hardwood floor. “I was going to wait till later tonight. Are you and Maya still having dinner?”

“Yeah, we’re meeting in…” Jasper pulls out his phone. “Shit. Half an hour.” He looks up at Monty, face pained. Monty reads it easily: I don’t want to leave. “I mean, this is the night I was going to ask her, I should probably…”

“Yeah, you probably should,” Monty agrees. He’d be embarrassed by how choked up he sounds if Jasper didn’t sound the same. “So… good luck, right?”

“Thanks,” Jasper says. He clears his throat and looks down. “I guess I should…”

Monty rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on.” Jasper looks back up and Monty lunges at him for a hug. Jasper lets out a surprised huff of air and sighs, dropping his face into Monty’s neck.

“I am going to text you every single minute,” he mutters, and Monty tightens his arms around Jasper’s shoulders. “Like, really, you’re going to get a play-by-play of what happens tonight, and of my biochem classes, and everything else.”

“Oh, so nothing’s changing, huh?” Monty manages, voice wavering, and Jasper squeezes him. “I’m going to do the same thing. All the time. We’re going to talk every day.”

“You better believe it,” Jasper answers. They could be there for a few seconds or a few minutes and frankly Monty wouldn’t care either way. This isn’t a goodbye, but it’s not an I’ll-see-you-later either. It’s something in between, and he doesn’t want to let it go.

It doesn’t last, of course. Jasper’s phone starts buzzing. He sighs and pulls away, one hand snaking into his pocket as he goes.

Monty reluctantly unwinds his arms from Jasper’s neck. “Maya?”

“Maya.” Jasper pockets his phone again. “She’s going to say yes, right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought she wouldn’t,” Monty tells him honestly. Jasper smiles that slow, grateful smile that he always wears when he remembers that Maya loves him as much as he loves her. “Now go get the girl.”

“I already have the girl,” Jasper argues, but he doesn’t look as torn up as he did a minute ago. “Get ready for me to blow up your Snapchat.”

“I’m always ready for you to blow up my Snapchat.” Monty offers a watery smile. “Have fun.”

Jasper smiles at him, rough around the edges, and nods. “See you… Tuesday, right?”

Monty nods. “Tuesday.” It’s six days away. Normally he’d try to visit before then, but with Maya moving in, he’ll wait for an invitation. He walked in on them having sex enough times when he lived there, he’s not about to risk it now that she lives there. But six days isn’t that long, right? He reaches out and clasps Jasper’s shoulder. “See ya.”

Jasper’s smile blooms into a full-on grin. “Yeah.” He squeezes Monty’s hand on his shoulder and lets go. And then he turns, and leaves, and says goodbye to Raven, and the door opens, and Jasper’s gone.

By the time Raven comes to check on him, Monty has not only unpacked all three suitcases, he’s moved his clothes between the dresser drawers and the closet twice. He’s lying on his bed, glued to his phone, waiting for Jasper to send him anything. Nothing yet, and he feels like he's dying inside.

“You look like your dog died,” Raven says.

“That bad, huh?” He looks over. Raven’s leaning against the doorframe, mouth twisted into something sympathetic. “What’s up?”

Raven holds up a bottle of Bud Light. “You want a drink?”

“I’m not legal yet.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Monty pauses. His parents had never really cared if he drank or smoked weed (they’d be hypocrites if they did) and there wasn’t much else to do where he grew up. But he also had a couple of bad incidents where he’d had too much of one thing or another. He hasn’t had a proper drink since leaving high school.

“Yeah, sure,” he decides. Raven won’t let him drink till he pukes, and he’s sad and a little empty right now. Beer helps that. He slides off the bed, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Do you normally drink at 6:30 on a Wednesday, or is this a special occasion?”

“Little bit of both.” Raven grins. “It’s not every day I can convince Clarke to buy me new stuff. Also, you look like you could really use some beer.” She turns, and he follows her out to their combined living-room-slash-kitchen. “Let me guess, you’ve never lived anywhere but with him?”

“Yep,” Monty admits. “Kinda sad, I know.”

Raven laughs as she goes to the fridge, but she doesn’t sound very happy. “Are you kidding? This is my first apartment away from my childhood best friend. It’s not kinda sad, it’s really sad. Take it from me.”

“Gee, thanks,” Monty says sourly. Raven takes another bottle out of the bridge, grabs a bottle opener magnet off the fridge, and pops the top off. “At least we can be bitter together.”

“I’m mostly not bitter anymore,” Raven answers, holding out the open bottle. Monty takes it wordlessly and takes a long drink. “It’s been a few months. It gets easier.”

Monty hums thoughtfully. “You think it’ll be easier for me because I have a roommate?”

Raven shrugs, pops the top off her own beer, and takes a drink. “So I gotta ask: you’re not legal, and I’ve never seen you drink, but this is definitely not your first time drinking, right?”

Monty is about to ask how she knew when he realizes that his one drink was a quarter of the bottle. “Uh, no. Not even close.”

“When do you turn twenty-one, anyways?” Raven goes back to the fridge, rummages around, and pulls out a pizza box. “It’s gotta be this year, right?”

“March,” Monty answers, reaching for the pizza. “So not far.”

“Not close, either.” Raven takes a bite out of her slice of pizza. “Got any good classes this year?”

Monty shrugs. “Just major classes, I’ll see how they are when the year starts. You?”

“Same. How’s your job?”

“Still lots of broken computers.” Monty used to have full faith in the future of the human race. He wouldn’t say that he’s completely lost that, but working in a tech repair shop has darkened his outlook on life. “How’s yours?”

“Lots of cars, lots of fun.” Raven offers a grin before taking a drink of her beer. She pulls a face. “You know, I hate beer.”

“Which is why you have a full six-pack in your fridge.”

“That’s my friends’ fault. They only drink beer.” Raven pauses. “That reminds me, you shouldn’t expect to see me Sunday or Thursday nights.”

Monty frowns. They’d swapped copies of their regular work schedules, so they knew when to expect each other to be home, but Raven doesn’t work Sundays or Thursdays. “Did your hours change?”

“Nah, I’m-” she laughs quietly. “I’m actually in a band.”

Monty whistles. “No shit? That’s cool. What do you play?”

“Bass. Childhood friend plays drums, and rich friend plays guitar and sings.” Raven smiles, half wistfully. “We’re almost good. It’s fun. We don’t have a name, though.”

“Really?” Monty frowns. He and Jasper have discussed what they’d call their band if they started a trumpet-piano folk duo (Monty’s favorite is “Houston Has Their Own Problems”) but Raven’s band is probably nothing like that. “What kind of music do you play?”

“Rock.” Raven pauses. “Actually, it’s pop-punk-rock… fusion. But Clarke doesn’t have an electric guitar, so we also sound kind of indie.”

“Hm.” Monty contemplates that. “I got nothing.” He takes a bite of pizza, hoping that it’ll give him the perfect band name. No such luck.

Raven shrugs. “We’ve been trying for months, don’t worry about it.”

Monty nods and takes another sip of beer. “So, if you don’t normally drink beer on Wednesday nights, what do you do?”

“Watch Jeopardy and crime dramas.” Raven gestures her beer towards the couch and TV.

Monty, who also spends his Wednesday nights watching Jeopardy and crime dramas, clinks his beer bottle against hers and makes his way to the armchair. Home sweet home.

therealjasperj
could tell this girl every day how much i love her and still not get tired of it. @cestmayavie

haaaaaarper, noteasybeing_green, cestmayavie, and 17 others like this

cestmayavie <3
itsvickiiii wow jasper i haven’t seen you since high school! hmu we should catch up!
noteasybeing_green You two are saps.
therealjasperj @noteasybeing_green But you love us anyways.

Monty and Jasper grew up next door to each other in a town that Jasper calls “Bumfuck, Wyoming.” Monty doesn’t understand why, considering that they’re from Missouri. (Maybe calling it Wyoming emphasizes how much nothingness was around them.) There was never anything to do in town, but their windows were across from each other, and they could talk to each other across the gap between their houses. Monty only remembers a handful of days where they didn’t, and that was either because one of them was gone or they were avoiding each other after some pointless argument.

Their parents loved both of them. Jasper’s parents are benevolent, bland school teachers. Monty’s parents are professional stoners, in his opinion, but to the rest of the world they’re geneticists that moved to corn country so they could improve agriculture. He thinks of Jasper’s parents and sister as his family, just as close as his own family.

Of course, being a Korean kid in racist Bumfuck, Wyoming wasn't easy. Monty tried not to let it bother him, but Jasper constantly got in trouble for trying to fight the bullies. He never seemed to care - he gleefully accepted detentions and referrals and everything else the school district could dish out, and kept picking fights.

They’d made it to ninth grade before some assholes tried to physically assault Monty. They cornered him, but he gave as good as he got. Unfortunately, what he got was a black eye and a bloody nose. He’d been home, trying to clean himself up and ice his eye, when Jasper had gotten there, taken one look, and exploded.

“It’s not a big deal,” Monty said, trying not to wince as Jasper adjusted the ice pack. “It happens. I can deal with it.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Jasper snapped. Monty’s chest twisted into pretzel knots, and that was how he discovered that he was in love with his best friend.

Coming out in high school was never an option. An Asian kid in a white town gets bullied; a queer Asian kid in a straight white town gets killed. He didn’t tell Jasper until they were in college because he knew Jasper would insist that there was nothing to hide or be ashamed of. He’s right, but Monty always placed self-preservation above honesty, and he wanted both himself and Jasper to get out of that town more than he wanted to be out of the closet.

And they did. They applied to most of the same colleges, and Monty refused to admit that he’d gladly turn down any Ivy if Jasper wouldn’t be there with him. Mount Weather University in Virginia accepted them both. It was a fair distance from Missouri, and apparently their engineering program was to die for. The minute they both got their letters, they accepted their admission and never looked back.

That had been the end of the crush. When they committed to going to the same school, Monty looked at Jasper’s grin and thought, I’m not in love with you anymore. It’d been that easy. To this day, he’s not sure why it was that moment, but he’s glad. Being in love with his best friend sucked.

Monty’s also not sure why he didn’t anticipate Maya coming into the picture. Jasper started his quest for the perfect girlfriend when they were thirteen. He always wanted a picture-perfect happily-ever-after. Maya is going to be that for him, Monty is sure of it. From the day Jasper had come back from some science department student mixer professing his undying love for the biotech major he met, Monty knew they’d be perfect together.

It‘s just (and this is the part that he hates thinking about) that Jasper was supposed to be his. It’s selfish, but he always thought he and Jasper were going to be together forever. He loves Maya, and he loves that Jasper loves Maya, and he’s happy for them. He just wishes it was still simple, like it used to be.

From: Jasper (8:23 PM)
she said yes!!!!!! :D :D :D

To: Jasper (8:24 PM)
Told you. Congrats. Tell M I say hi.

JANUARY 17

Monty is pretty adaptable, even if he feels off balance for the first few days. Other than his address, not much changes. He eats, he sleeps, he works, he hangs out with his roommate. It’s just that now it’s Raven and not Jasper. Nothing is different.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Raven tells him on Saturday night, “but you've got to start going out more.”

Yeah, that’s not different, either.

“Classes start in two days,” Monty points out. When classes start and homework kicks in, he won’t have time to mope about how his old apartment is now Jasper and Maya’s apartment. (He’s happy for them, and it’s not like he didn’t move out voluntarily, but he thinks he’s allowed to be bitter on principle. What principle, he’s not sure, but there has to be one. Maybe the principle of “they’ve probably had sex in my old bed by now.”)

“So you’ll have even less of a life than you do right now?” Raven’s eyes narrow. “No doing things? No hanging out with people?”

Monty frowns. “I hang out with people.”

“Only on alternating Tuesdays.”

“And the rest of the time I have you and my co-workers.”

“Including the guy that you described as ‘probable serial killer who won’t leave me alone?’ Does that really count as company?”

Ordinarily Monty would say no, but he’s not in the mood to admit that she’s right. Instead he pointedly turns back to the TV and says, “I don’t think their suspect is the killer, I think it was the neighbor.” He’s fully aware that he’s being a dick, and he feels guilty about it when Raven groans in frustration, but he’d rather just pretend that he’s content with his minimal social life.

Ah, denial. Monty is going to miss it when he caves.

haaaaaarper
three days till i see my study boys @millernathan @therealjasperj and @noteasybeing_green !! kids that survive terrible classes together stay together! #studygroupssavelives

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therealjasperj That is an OLD picture, why would you ever put it up?
haaaaaarper @therealjasperj #tbt to dr tsing’s class?
noteasybeing_green @haaaaaarper it’s Saturday.
haaaaaarper @noteasybeing_green killjoy. #tbs doesn’t have the same ring to it.

JANUARY 20

When Monty and Jasper were picking classes for their second semester of freshman year, they discovered Dr. Tsing’s Human Biology and Report Composition class. It fulfilled a school-required biology credit, but it had so many essays and lab reports that somebody had complained to MWU and got it to count as an English 102 equivalent. They hadn’t thought twice before signing up - two birds, one stone and all that.

The first sign that they’d made a mistake was when Jasper told Maya that they’d signed up and she said that she would really miss them when they were gone. Given how dramatic Maya normally wasn’t, Monty realized that they were probably fucked.

Dr. Tsing’s class had almost a hundred people in it on the first day. On the second, the number had dropped below fifty, and by the third, there were only two dozen. (That was the second sign.) By the fourth day, Monty was committed to finishing the class. He’d already made it through one lab and an essay - no point in quitting.

The fourth day was also when Dr. Tsing began targeting students. She began singling out one girl that Monty recognized from his first-semester English class. She was smart, but science clearly wasn’t her forte, and Dr. Tsing was terrorizing her. Naturally, Monty jumped in, interrupted her, and asked something ridiculous and mostly off-topic to distract her. Blonde girl mouthed thank you at him from across the room, and Dr. Tsing gave him an extra essay assignment for that weekend. It was totally worth it, even if the essay sucked ass.

In a show of solidarity, he and Jasper started sitting next to the blonde girl (Harper, a sharp-minded business major who needed the double-requisite to graduate in four years) and so did a guy with an impressive array of beanies (Miller, a sarcastic psych major whom Monty recognized from their first-year seminar). They were the only students who sat together. They were also the only ones that didn’t dread the class.

The study group was Harper’s idea. “We’re already barely scraping by in class by sitting together,” she reasoned. “Why not barely scrape by this test by working together?” And so began the Tuesday night study group. The group was the only reason Monty got a B in the class, and even then he thinks that was the lowest grade Dr. Tsing could give him without actually tampering with his assignments.

The class ended, but the study group didn’t. It morphed into less of a study group and more of a coffee meeting at the cafe where Miller works, but it persisted through harder classes and becoming biweekly rather than weekly. Monty hopes that it’ll survive him moving apartments, too.

The coffee shop, Grounders, is barely off campus, but far enough that when his class lets out at 4:25 on the first Tuesday of the semester, Monty knows he has to book it to get there by 4:30. It’s January in Virginia, which means it’s pretty damn cold, so he slings his bag over his shoulder, huddles into himself, and starts walking. He’s just outside the edge of campus and heading towards town when someone calls out, “Monty! Hey!”

Monty turns and sees Harper, pink-cheeked and blue-scarfed, hurrying towards him. She smiles as she gets closer. “Happy new year!”

“Happy new year, H.” He pulls her in for a hug. “How was break?”

“Awesome, thanks!” Harper gives Monty a quick, cold kiss on the cheek and leans back. “I spent the whole time filling out internship applications so I have somewhere to work over the summer.”

“Yeah?” He bumps his shoulder against hers as they start walking, slower now that they’re together. “Any luck?”

“Well, have you ever heard of a little company called Grant-Allen?”

“What, the appliance company?” Monty glances over at Harper and sees that her smile is practically incandescent. “Holy shit, Harper! When do you start?”

“Not till June, it’s a summer position. But I’ve got the spot guaranteed!” Harper claps her hands together, beaming at him.

“Congratulations,” Monty tells her, hoping she can tell how much he means it. He’s always suspected that Harper would be the first out of the group to get her shit together, and now she’s proving him right. “That’s incredible, you’re going to be great.”

“Thank you! Oh, but it’s a surprise!” Harper’s hands drop back to her sides. “I was going to say it over coffee, but I figured I might as well tell you now.”

“I’m glad you did.” They stop at the street corner, right in front of Grounders. "Ready to do some catching up?"

"Says the only one of us who sees another group member regularly.” At Monty’s blank look, she snickers. “Jasper? Your roommate? Remember him?”

Oh. Right. Harper and Miller don't know yet. Not everyone's world got flipped on its side during the move.

"Yeah," Monty says, kind of pathetically, as he opens the door. The roommate thing either will or won't come up in conversation today, and whichever it turns out to be, Monty will be okay with it.

Grounders is a hole in the wall. There’s plenty of space, but the ceilings are low. The lights perpetually seem like they’re about to burn out, flickering yellow against the ugly dirt-red walls. It feels like a cave, with good coffee and artsy black-and-white photos of rock bands framed on the walls. Monty loves it more than it deserves to be loved.

Jasper has his feet kicked up on their regular table, leaning back in his chair as he fiddles with his phone. When he sees them, he swings his legs down and grins. "It's about time!"

"Yeah, really," Miller adds from behind the counter. "I'm not even working today and I was ready to start serving customers."

"It's 4:32," Monty points out, even though he knows it’s pointless. "We're not really late."

"I was here first," Jasper declares, standing up. "I beat Miller here. He works here."

"Miller's not working today," Harper reminds him.

"And yet he made us all drinks," Jasper says, lifting his own cup. "Which means that I'm going to be nice to him for being late."

"He only got here first because I held the door open for him," Miller announces. "Also, in the spirit of Christmas, drinks are on me today."

"What, no way!" Harper protests. "This is your job, you can't pay for drinks that you made."

"Nope, too late, already done." Miller shrugs. "Sorry, Harp, looks like you're just gonna have to pay for mine next time."

"Ugh, you bastard!" Harper laughs and finally steps forward to give Miller a hug. "How was your break?"

"What break? I worked the whole time." Miller gives Harper a visible squeeze before letting go. She goes to Jasper, and Miller turns to Monty, arms still open.

Monty, who would be an idiot to refuse a Miller hug (they're second only to Jasper hugs, and that's because Jasper hugs have a lot of childhood nostalgia), goes in without hesitation. Miller is much, much warmer than the cold outside, and Monty has to stop himself from clinging to him. Instead, he pulls away and smiles. "You think you got my drink right?"

"I had Jasper help me this time," Miller says smugly. "It took two years, but we got it."

Monty raises his eyebrows. "I'll be the judge of that." Miller is chronically incapable of making Monty's double-shot latte with the perfect caramel-coffee ratio. He thinks that it legitimately bothers Miller, but it's his drink and he doesn't mind.

"Ooh, this'll be good," Harper says brightly. Last semester, she invented the Green Scale, a way of measuring how close Miller had come to the perfect drink based on what she calls "Monty's weird micro-expressions that he makes the first time he takes a drink." Monty doesn’t know what she means, but the Green Scale is frighteningly accurate. It's best to just accept that Harper knows what she's talking about.

"Nah, he got it this time," Jasper says firmly. "I'm sure of it."

"I'll be the judge of that," Monty laughs. Christ, he missed this over break.

Miller hands him a cup, smarmy look already in place. "Then judge away."

Monty's eyes flick from Miller to Harper to Jasper to the cup. "This is a bizarrely high-pressure situation."

"And you're dragging it out," Harper says.

"Good point," Monty concedes, and takes a drink. It's not exactly like the ones from the library cafe back in Bumfuck, Wyoming, but then again, nothing is. Either way, it's pretty damn good.

"Harp?" Miller says impatiently.

"I like it," Monty interjects. As far as he’s concerned, his opinion of his coffee outweighs Harper’s view of his opinion.

"I think that's the first ever perfect score," Harper announces.

Miller doesn't actually cheer, but Monty thinks that he would if there weren't other customers there. Instead he half-smiles, painfully smug, and high-fives Jasper. “Thanks, man.”

“Hey, anything for Monty’s coffee, right?” Jasper hooks his arm through Monty’s. “All right, sitting time, c’mon, it’s been six weeks, time to catch up.” He tugs Monty over to the table and pushes him into a chair, elbows still linked. Miller gives Harper her drink and an inscrutable look before they take a seat.

“Well, like I said, nothing happened for me,” Miller announces. “I didn’t go home, all my classes are decent, textbook prices are disgusting. Nothing important.”

Monty nods. “Ditto. I went home, nothing happened, I came back, my coworkers are the same as ever.”

“Including the serial killer?” Harper asks.

“Especially the serial killer.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that you think one of your coworkers is a serial killer?” Miller demands. “Just a little bit cop-worthy?”

Monty shrugs. “Ever since Connor and Myles quit, he’s gotten a lot less creepy. Harper, how was your break?”

Harper smiles at him appreciatively before leaning in. “Alright, so like I said in December, my winter break plans were internship applications, right? Trying to find somewhere for the summer.”

Jasper blinks and sits up a little straighter. “You found somewhere?”

“Yeah, you might've heard of it. It’s called Grant-Allen,” she announces brightly.

There’s a beat of silence before Miller whips around and stares at her. “Grant-Allen like the giant kitchen appliance company?”

“Who needs a few extra hands over the summer,” she finishes, beaming at Miller. “So it looks like I’m spending three months as a part of the company!”

“Harp, what the hell!” Miller swings an arm around her shoulders. “That’s great news, congratulations!”

“Yeah, H, that’s so cool!” Jasper chimes in. “Where are you going to be?”

“Chicago, at the headquarters. I get a stipend and an apartment.” Harper clasps her hands together. “It’s like a dream come true.”

“And you earned it,” Miller says warmly. “You’re going to be one hell of a business executive. Remember us when you’re running some kind of insurance firm.”

Harper wrinkles her nose. “Why would I run an insurance firm?”

“You’d be good at it,” Monty points out. “If you wanted to, you could run the world.”

“So could you.” Harper raises her eyebrows. “Hack Google and take over everyone’s Chrome accounts? You’ve never thought of it?”

Monty, more out of curiosity than any actual ambition, runs through it in his head. “Maybe,” he says thoughtfully. Harper giggle-snorts, Jasper elbows his ribs, and even Miller throws a half-exasperated, half-fond look his way.

“And last but not least, Jasper.” Harper picks up her drink and gestures towards him. “Other than going back to Wyom-braska with Monty, how was break? And how’s Maya?”

Jasper takes a lazy, long drink from his hot chocolate. “We’re from Missouri.”

“Which you call Wyoming,” Monty reminds him.

“For dramatic effect!”

“There’s nothing dramatic about Wyoming.”

“That’s exactly the effect I’m going for.”

Monty rolls his eyes. “Quit complaining about the bastardization of our terrible home state and talk about your break.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jasper sets the hot chocolate down. “So, as far as big news go… I asked Maya to move in with me.”

Harper’s jaw drops and Miller’s eyebrows raise. Monty could not have asked for better reactions.

“She said yes,” Jasper adds quickly. “So she’s all moved in now.”

“Congrats,” Harper says, voice strained. “That’s… really cool.”

“Yeah, that’s great and all,” Miller adds, “but we’ve been to your place. And it’s really, really small.”

This is true; it’s barely a step up from a studio. He can also tell where they’re going with this. Jasper cannot tell, judging by the confusion written across his face.

“Ooooookay,” Jasper says slowly. “And…?”

“And how are all three of you going to live in the same place?” Miller asks.

“Three-” Jasper turns to Monty. “You didn’t think that was important enough to mention?”

Monty shrugs. “We’ve all moved before, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Moved?” Harper echoes. “Wait, Monty, did you move out so Maya could move in?”

“Not just because of that,” Monty protests. It’s a blatant lie, but Harper and Miller would throttle him if he moved out just for Jasper and Maya’s sake. “I have a friend who needed a roommate to help with the rent, and her place is way bigger. It’s a win-win.”

Harper settles back, looking mollified, but Miller seems unconvinced. “You know you could’ve called one of us, right?”

“Absolutely,” Monty lies. Harper’s apartment is even smaller than his old one with Jasper, and Miller has two roommates already, and they’re both better off without him moving in. They would’ve let him, sure, but Raven actually needed a roommate, and that’s more important.

“His roommate’s badass,” Jasper cuts in. “She’s a mechanic.”

“And she’s in a rock band,” Monty adds.

“Okay, that’s pretty cool,” Miller allows. “She’s good people?”

“She’s great people. Don’t worry about me, I’m set.”

Miller’s expression smooths over. “If you say so.”

“So is anyone else keeping big secrets because they don’t think it’s a big deal?” Harper turns to Miller, eyes narrowing. “Don’t tell me, you published a paper over break and now everyone in the psychology world is calling you the modern Freud.”

Miller snorts. “I wouldn’t let them call me that, Freud was a dick. And no, the most interesting thing that happened was Drew trying to bleach his hair and almost burning the building down instead.”

“What?” Jasper laughs. “No way.”

Miller nods, mock-serious. “On Christmas.”

“Okay, you have to tell that story,” Harper says, grinning. Miller’s eyes slide from her to Jasper to Monty, who gestures for him to go on.

Miller leans forward. “All right, so it all started with his little brother, right?”

JANUARY 23

From: Raven (6:17 PM)
gna be home late

From: Monty (6:19 PM)
Cool. You gonna need dinner?

From: Raven (6:23 PM)
not if you’re cooking

From: Monty (6:24 PM)
Ouch

Monty hates textbooks. He hates technical jargon and fine print and boring examples. He has to read them out loud to focus on them, muttering under his breath as he goes. Jasper used to tease him for it, but Raven doesn’t care. This is why, when Raven gets home from class, he doesn’t pause in muttering about control systems.

“Is this how he normally says hello?” says someone who is decidedly not Raven.

Monty pauses. “Well, yesterday, I was reading my communications textbook.” He sets the book down and turns around. Raven is closing the door, but she smiles at him over her shoulder. With her, she has a bag of take-out, a blonde woman with watercolor tattoo sprawling across her collarbone, and a man with floppy hair and a bright smile.

“Is this rich friend and childhood friend?” he guesses, standing to his feet.

“Yup,” Raven answers, heading to the kitchen. “Friends, roommate, roommate, friends.”

The blonde woman smiles. “I’m Clarke. I’m assuming I’m rich friend?”

“If you’re the one who paid for the bed and that armchair, you are.” Monty shakes her hand and smiles back. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Thanks for moving in.”

“Yeah, we’re glad Raven has someone to remind her to sleep,” childhood friend adds. Monty turns to him, hand still held out, and he shakes it. “I’m Finn.”

“Monty.”

Finn smiles, then turns towards the kitchen. “By the way, why am I childhood friend? That doesn’t sound as cool as rich friend.”

“Uh, because we grew up together?” Raven says. “And I’ve known you since childhood?”

“Yeah, but why not… badass friend, or something?”

Raven returns from the kitchen with the takeout and some paper plates. She sets them on the coffee table and turns to Finn, looking unimpressed. She points at him. “Librarian.” She points at Clarke. “Tattoo artist. If either of you would be the badass friend, it’d be her.”

“But I’m a sexy librarian! I’m even sexier than Marian the librarian from The Music Man.”

“Yeah, you’ve got better curves, too,” Monty says. Clarke barks out a laugh, and Raven cracks a smile.

Finn stares at him for a few seconds. “Nice,” he says at last. “I see why Raven likes you.”

“Yeah, that’s why I brought him surprise Chinese food.” Raven frowns at him. “You ate something today, right?”

“Yeah, breakfast,” Monty tells her. He’s pretty sure he actually did, too.

“Good job. C’mon, we’ve got orange chicken.” She grabs his and Clarke’s elbows and pulls them down onto the couch on either side of her. “It’s Friday, what’s on TV?”

“I dunno, let’s find out.” Finn picks up the remote and turns the TV on. “CSI?”

“Sure,” Monty says, at the same time that Clarke says “Absolutely not.” He turns to her in surprise; she shrugs. “The two of them can never agree on what they think happened. It sucks the fun out of it when they’re arguing the whole time.”

“We’ll keep it to the commercials,” Raven offers. “It’ll be fine.”

Clarke sighs. “You’d better.” Finn perches on the arm of the couch, next to Clarke. Raven hands a plate to Monty, who goes immediately for the kung pao chicken. It’s easy to lose himself in the plot and banter of the episode. And then --

“It was the best friend,” Finn says, as soon as the commercials start, and Raven almost drops her plate in whirling around to say “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Clarke leans forward, out of yelling range, and offers Monty the best I told you so look he’s ever seen. He pulls a face, trying to say yeah, you did, this is ridiculous, how did you live with them both in one expression. He must succeed, because Clarke grins at him before going back to her chow mein. Monty counts that as a win.

rockin_raven
csi, chinese, and cool people. perfect friday night. @cgriffin @notfinncollins @noteasybeing_green

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cgriffin started following you.
notfinncollins started following you.

JANUARY 24

“I think this is the longest I’ve ever seen you take to fix something,” Murphy says thoughtfully. “Is the mighty Monty Green finally stumped by technology?”

Monty absently flips Murphy off. They’re in the back room of TekFix, an abominably-named appliance repair shop that has brought Monty several paychecks and household appliances. The previous owners had had an appliance recycling service, so people think they can drop off their broken shit to be recycled. Monty realized that most of it got junked, and also that he could fix it and get dibs.

Murphy thinks he’s amazing. For all that Monty calls him a serial killer, he really doesn’t mind Murphy very much. He’s a bit of a dick, sure, but Monty is a dick right back at him. (Not to mention, Murphy has paid Monty to fix random kitchen appliances in his apartment. Extra money is always nice.)

“No, seriously, can you even play that?” Murphy adds.

Monty shrugs, looking down at the electric keyboard. “I played a lot in high school, but not after graduating. If nothing else, I can give it to my roommate for the band.”

Murphy snickers. “Jasper’s in a band? Seriously?”

Monty, who remembers Jasper playing trumpet all through high school, bursts into internal laughter. “God, no. I moved, I have a new roommate.” He leans in to examine the wires, lifting his pocket scissors as he does. “Pass me the duct tape?”

Murphy hands it over. “Do you actually use all the things you fix here?”

“What else would I do with them?”

“I dunno, give them to charity? I thought this was just about proving you could do this.”

Monty snorts. “I’d be a terrible electrical engineer if I couldn’t fix a couple toasters and a keyboard.”

“Technically, you’re not an electrical engineer at all. You're a cashier.”

“At a technology store. And I’m going to be an electrical engineer, so I might as well figure out how to engineer electronics.”

“Makes sense.”

After that, Murphy falls silent, watching him intently. Monty can’t tell if it’s because he wants to learn how to fix his own things or because there’s nothing better to do. Either way, he doesn’t care enough to ask.

“What time is it?” he asks absently, taping two wires together.

“It’s eight. Shift’s over. You can leave as soon as you’re done.”

“Like right now?” Monty drops the wires, flips a switch, and taps a key. A perfectly synthesized note sings out.

Murphy shakes his head. “I swear to God, you’re some kind of fucking wizard.”

“Damn straight,” Monty answers, closing the panel that hides the wiring. “Hey, did this come in with a stand of some kind?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get it.” Murphy stands up straight. “Play me something pretty when I come back.” Monty rolls his eyes. Murphy chuckles and disappears into the store, leaving Monty staring down at the keyboard. Tentatively, he lays his hands over the keys, trying to remember how to play something. It’s been a long time since he had a piano, and he can't think of anything yet.

“Nothing?” Murphy says, returning with the stand. “Here, let me play.” He reaches for the keys.

“Do not play Chopsticks,” Monty orders.

Murphy pulls his hands back.

Monty has a lot of Saturday nights home alone. Normally, they’re not sad unless he makes them sad, and that tends to involve either marijuana or realizing that his only company is a true crime marathon. But out of all of his Saturday nights, he thinks that this - alone in his apartment, staring at the keyboard - might be the saddest.

The way Monty sees it, he has until Raven gets home to either relearn the piano or figure out where to hide it. If she comes home and sees it, she’s going to want him to play it. If not, he’ll just hide it until he can play. He knows he should be able to play, but he never had any formal training beyond YouTube, and he feels uncoordinated and clunky whenever he thinks about anything he used to play. Tentatively, he puts his thumb down on middle C but doesn’t press. He looks down at the keyboard and wills himself to remember anything, anything other than Heart and Soul.

After a solid three minutes of staring at his right hand, Monty sighs. Looks like his return to the piano will be the single most annoying song a pianist can play. Great.

He turns the volume output down as low as it goes. He takes a deep breath. And he plays Heart and Soul. Damn it, he plays it twice. He plays Chopsticks, too, because he might as well ensure that he’s going to piano hell. And Monty looks down at his hands spread across the keys and thinks oh, right. Every memory comes back to smack him upside the head, and he launches into a slow, clumsy rendition of Pachelbel’s Canon in D.

He misses notes, but then he plays it again, much faster, and doesn’t miss nearly as many. By the time he launches into Someone Like You, it feels like he never stopped playing. It’s like riding a bike, he figures. You never forget, even though getting on a bike for the first time might involve falling on your face.

After a while, he pulls out his phone and starts Googling songs from the radio. He’s picking at the chords to a Bruno Mars song, humming tunelessly, when he hears “What the hell!”

Monty jumps, thankfully without knocking either the piano or himself off balance, and looks at Raven. She’s in the doorway, staring at him like he brought Christmas home eleven months early.

“Um,” he says eloquently. “Fix any good cars today?”

“You didn’t tell me you could play piano,” Raven accuses, sounding both indignant and impressed. “Where did you get that?”

“Someone dropped it off to be recycled at the store.” Monty shrugs. “I haven’t really played since high school, but I still know how.”

“Holy shit,” Raven laughs. She drops her bag to the couch and walks over to the keyboard, running her hands along the sides. “Monty, oh my God, you have to join the band!”

“You barely heard me play.”

“We have practice tomorrow, you can come!”

“Finn and Clarke?”

“Clarke thinks that we need a piano to round out our sound, and whatever Finn thinks, we’ll outvote him.” Raven crosses her arms resolutely, and Monty realizes that the question isn’t whether or not he wants to go to band practice. The question is whether he goes willingly or not. “Just one practice?”

“Do you guys perform often?” Monty asks warily. He’s not ready to commit to playing concerts every weekend.

“Never. And we only practice two days a week.” Raven leans in across the keyboard. “Please?”

Monty sighs. “One practice. And then we’ll go from there.”

“Awesome.” Raven smiles warmly. “Okay, my turn, move over. I’ve got a little piece I want to play for you.”

“Is it Heart and Soul?” Monty asks warily.

Raven scoffs. “What do you think I am, an animal? No way.”

It’s Chopsticks.

JANUARY 25

“Knock, knock,” Raven calls as she opens the door to Finn and Clarke’s apartment. “Brought him!”

Finn is busy setting up his drum set, but he flicks a wave over his shoulder. Clarke looks up from tuning her guitar and smiles at them. “Hey, how was the walk?”

“Still two blocks, still not bad.” Raven goes over to an amp off to the left, with a dinged-up bass leaning against it. Monty closes the door to the apartment and takes a moment to look around. Knowing that Clarke is the kind of person who buys her friends furniture to celebrate a new roommate, Monty is unsurprised to discover that the apartment is huge. There’s no rehearsal space in his apartment with Raven, but with all the furniture pushed against one wall, this place has more than enough space.

“Monty, you can set up next to Finn,” Clarke instructs. “And Raven, move forward a little?”

Monty slips to the back of the group, keyboard tucked awkwardly under his arm. He has no idea what to expect; even Raven had admitted that he was the first new person they’d even considered auditioning for the band. He sets up quickly, silently hoping that he doesn’t have the mental lapse that he has yesterday. That would be bad to do in front of people.

Clarke continues tuning her guitar, and Raven starts in with her bass. Monty takes the opportunity to start running through the chords to his audition song. It’s not hard, but this is no time to feel under-prepared.

“You ready?” Raven asks, pulling him out of practice mode. Monty looks up and nods. Raven turns to Clarke. “All right, you want to run this?”

Clarke nods. “Monty Green, we’ve brought you here today to audition you for…” she pauses, eyes flitting to Raven. “What name are we using right now?”

“Raven and the Reyeses?”

“Nope. Finn?”

“I like Bridge Bomb,” Finn offers, twirling one drumstick around his fingers.

“You’re the only one,” Raven says, mock-apologetic in the way that only close friends can be. Finn flips her off nonchalantly.

Clarke sighs and turns back to Monty. “For this band, name pending. You play us a song and if you don’t suck, you’re in. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” Monty affirms, flipping the keyboard on.

“You can turn that up, by the way,” Raven says. “This place is soundproofed.”

Monty raises his eyebrows at Clarke. “You got your apartment soundproofed?”

“No, it actually came like this. Pretty shady, right?”

“You weren’t calling it shady last Stanley Cup when you were screaming at the TV,” Finn mutters.

“I stand by my screaming. Monty, you ready?”

Monty turns the volume up on the keyboard and glances at Raven. “You’re still singing?”

“If you’re playing.”

“Awesome.” Monty taps a few notes, just as a sound check, and looks back up at Clarke. “So. Imagine Dragons.”

“Nice,” Finn says appreciatively. “Go for it.”

“Did you tell him we’re a rock band?” Clarke asks Raven skeptically.

“We’re kinda pop-indie-rock,” Raven points out. “And this is pop rock. He makes it sound good.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush,” Monty replies in a monotone. Raven rolls her eyes but shifts her bass and gestures for him to start. He listened to the radio in 2013, just like everyone else, which means he could sing Radioactive in his sleep. Playing it is trickier, but only because it’s new.

Raven comes in right on time when he hits the verse. “I’m waking up to ash and dust-”

“Can you jump in?” Clarke says. Monty doesn’t look up to see what she means. Just because the song is easy doesn’t mean it has to be boring. He knows enough music theory to improvise on chords, and that takes focus.

“--the chemicals,” Raven sings, and stops. Monty would ask why, but he’s trying to show off with an arpeggio, and before he can, Finn is playing too. His tempo’s just a couple clicks faster than Monty’s, and he rushes to compensate, slipping between Finn’s beats easily till they have a steady rhythm going.

“I’m breaking in, shaping up,” Clarke sings, guitar hanging at her side. Her voice is nothing like Raven’s - it’s clearer, brighter, and better suited for melody than harmony. Monty listens appreciatively for a moment before returning to his part, more focused than before. Finn has a solid sense of tempo, and it keeps Monty honest. They hit the chorus easily, Clarke singing and Raven humming along.

“All right, stop,” Clarke says as soon as the first chorus is over. Monty stops immediately, with Finn a second after. She looks over at Monty, smiling. “We rehearse Sunday and Thursday, from 6 to 8:30. You can leave your keyboard here if it’d be easier than carrying it. You’re in if you want in.”

“Seriously?” Monty stares at her. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. I’ll transcribe all the chords to all of our songs, Raven already has mp3s of them that you can listen to, and you’re set.”

“We should add Radioactive to the set list,” Raven muses. “That was damn good.”

“So you’re in?” Finn clarifies. “We should do that again, just to be sure.”

And that’s how Monty joins a rock band.

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Songs

Have fun.

Attachments: BID chords.docx, Redo chords.docx, BB chords.docx

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Songs

Thanks. You too.

Attachments: radioactive chords.docx

noteasybeing_green
Music, music, music. #practicemakesperfect

therealjasperj, cgriffin, and 5 others like this

haaaaaarper what!! text meeeee
cestmayavie looks fun!

JANUARY 30

Monty opens the door to the apartment, and Raven yanks him inside, barely closing the door behind him.

“Uh, hi,” Monty says, and then, quite reasonably, “What are you doing?”

“You’re in a band now,” Raven says, giving him a significant look.

“Um.”

“That means that we have to have jam sessions.”

“Our instruments are still at Clarke and Finn’s place.”

“Okay, fine, we'll have a session where we listen to the songs until we’re both sick of hearing them, how about that?”

Monty stares at her, brow furrowing. “...why?”

Raven huffs exasperatedly. “Oh my god, Monty, Fridays are the only nights where neither of us have work or band practice, and we live together. We should hang out.”

Monty considers it for a minute. He and Jasper never really had to hang out, but this isn’t Jasper, and there’s no reason not to hang out. He likes Raven. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

“Awesome, I made grilled cheese. Now it’s a real party.”

Monty silently curses college for ruining his definition of “party” before following her into the kitchen. “What do people normally do when they hang out, again?”

Raven looks at him incredulously. “You aren’t seriously that antisocial, are you?”

Monty shrugs. “How many people really want to hang out with the computer kid in the marching band?”

“You were in marching band?”

“Are you really surprised?”

“What’d you play? No, wait, let me guess.” Raven taps her chin, eyes narrowing. “Clarinet.”

“Nope.”

“Trumpet.”

“That was Jasper.”

“...French horn?”

“Three strikes, you’re out. Marimba.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Pit percussion for life.” Monty reaches around Raven to grab a grilled cheese. “I’d demonstrate, but there’s a stunning lack of public access marimbas.”

“Yeah, funny how that works.” Raven rolls her eyes. “I changed my mind, we’re not doing music. We’re going to watch cop TV.”

“Again?”

“We can bond over Spencer Reid’s cheekbones. C’mon.” Raven heads out to the couch, taking the plate of grilled cheese with her. Monty’s about to follow, but first he takes a bite of his own grilled cheese, and his eyes widen. “Oh my god.”

Raven looks over her shoulder. “What?”

“This is amazing, what did you put in it?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Your grilled cheese recipe is a secret? Why? Can't you tell me?”

Raven laughs at him. Monty would complain, but he’d rather eat the grilled cheese, so that’s exactly what he does.

FEBRUARY 3

Harper is already waiting for Monty when he reaches the edge of campus. Her arms are folded, and she’s giving him her best glare. (The glare isn’t intimidating, but the fact that she’s trying is.)

“Whoa, what’d I do?” he asks, coming to a stop a few feet from her.

Harper’s scowl deepens.“So, your Instagram.”

“My Instagram,” Monty repeats.

“It has a lot of pictures of musical instruments. And people playing them.”

“...and?”

Harper smacks his arm, her face finally melting into a smile. “And you didn’t tell us you joined a band, asshole!”

“It’s only been a week,” Monty protests, starting towards Grounders. Harper ambles alongside him. “I wasn’t in the band last Tuesday.”

“We exist the other six days of the week,” Harper mutters. “Did Jasper know?”

“Yeah, and he’s been trying to get us to name the band chemistry puns.”

“Chemistry puns?”

“My favorite was Fluorine and the Machine.”

Harper groans. “How have you put up with him your whole life?”

“Never had a choice.” Monty shrugs. “He was always just sort of there.”

“You’re a saint.”

“It’s not so bad. Sometimes he buys me presents, that’s nice.”

“So sweet,” Harper says drily. “What about Miller?”

Monty pauses in consideration. “Maybe? He follows me too, he could’ve seen it.”

“And you just have something against talking to us?”

“Nah, I just don’t talk to most people.”

Harper rolls her eyes as Monty opens the door to Grounders. “Well, you should maybe start. We like you, too.”

“Agreed,” Jasper says from the table, tapping at his phone. “Not that I know what you’re talking about.”

Harper sticks her tongue out at him, and when he looks up enough to see it, he sticks his right back out.

“So I guess we’re on babysitting duty,” Miller tells Monty as he hands him a cup of coffee.

Monty flashes him a grateful smile as he takes it. “Depends on whether or not they grow up in the next two minutes.”

“This hasn’t happened in a while, I thought they were getting better.”

“It’s been a year, we were due.” Monty takes a sip of the coffee. It’s just as good as the last cup. “You’re getting the hang of this caramel thing.”

“I’d be a terrible barista if I couldn’t.” Miller grins, and it’s so bright that Monty can’t help but grin back. Miller’s hugs are great, but Miller’s smiles are better.

“Hey, if you two are done, this is normally a four-person thing,” Jasper says. When Monty and Miller look over, Harper is sitting next to Jasper, looking at his phone. “I’ve already got our first conversation topic lined up.”

Monty glances at Miller, who looks as wary as Monty feels. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he says cautiously, starting towards the table and sitting across from Jasper. Miller takes the seat next to him and leans back, arms crossed. “What are we talking about?”

Jasper leans forward, looking directly at Miller. He jerks a thumb at Monty. “Did you know he joined a rock band?”

“He joined a what?” Miller says incredulously.

“Great,” Monty mutters.

“He apparently only bothered to tell me, and left the rest of the world to find out through Instagram.”

“Which is how I found out,” Harper interjects.

“But that’s not my point.” Jasper pauses dramatically. “The band needs a name.”

Monty groans. “This again?”

“I still say Density’s Child.”

“Can we go back to the part where Monty’s in a rock band? Because I totally missed that.” Miller turns to Monty, eyes alight with interest. “What kind of stuff do you play?”

“Anything.” Monty shrugs. “We’ve got obscure pop, popular pop, indie rock, take your pick.”

“Are you good?”

“I mean, I like us.”

“Who all is ‘us’ anyways?” Harper asks, scrolling through something on her phone. Probably Monty’s Instagram.

“My roommate Raven, and a couple of her friends, Finn and Clarke.”

“Which one is which?” Harper holds out her phone to him and Miller. It’s a picture from Monty’s Instagram. The focus is on Clarke, laughing at something Finn was doing, but Raven and Finn are in the edges of the picture.

“The one on the left is Finn, he’s our drummer. The blonde one is Clarke, our singer and guitarist.”

“Nice tat,” Miller notes.

“Yeah, that’s her job. I can hook you guys up if you ever want one. And the bass is Raven.”

“Do you guys perform?” Miller asks.

“Not yet, no. And we don’t really talk about performing.”

“You should!” Harper gasps. “We’d all come see you. We’d make T-shirts!”

“The band would need a name for us to have T-shirts,” Jasper points out. “Which is why we need to think of a name. So they can start booking gigs.”

“Booking gigs,” Monty repeats. “You know a lot about booking gigs, Jasper?”

“I’ll be your agent,” Jasper decides.

“Says the chemistry major,” Harper says.

Miller smirks. “Hey, Harp, we’re psych and business. Between me and you, we’ve got a marketing major.”

Harper’s eyes crinkle into a smile. “Perfect. And Jasper can run your social media!”

Jasper turns to Monty. “Do you guys have a Facebook yet?”

“We don’t even have a name,” Monty says in exasperation.

“Grounders has Music Mondays,” Miller says, apropos of nothing. “Where we have bands come in and play. Mostly it’s terrible indie shit, but lots of bands don’t have names.” He pauses. “Well, that or they’re embarrassed to go into performances with names like The Lamentable Decadence of the Balkans.”

“Tell me that’s not an actual band you’ve had,” Monty says. Miller doesn’t answer, which means that it probably is.

“Wait, this is awesome news,” Jasper says. “And not just that you can name a band something like The Lamentable Decadence of the Balkans. You guys can perform here!”

“I can book you,” Miller says agreeably. “If you guys want.”

Monty stares at him. “Seriously?”

He shrugs. “I work on Monday nights, I see all of the shitty bands come in. Just based on that picture of your setup, you guys would be a damn sight better than most of them. And the manager listens to me. If I suggest a band, she'll let you come in. You want the gig, I’ll get the gig.”

“Can I talk to everyone else first?”

“No, I need an answer right now. This second.” Miller rolls his eyes. “Of course you can. It’s on the second Monday of the month, which is next Monday. Just let me know by, like, Friday if you can.”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“And then tell the rest of us so we can come see you,” Harper adds brightly. “Or talk to us! We like that. Most people like it if you talk to them.”

“Jesus, you sound like Raven,” Monty mutters.

Jasper sighs and leans across the table to clap a hand on Monty’s shoulder. “Monty. I love you. But when your own roommate thinks you have communication issues, you should try to communicate more.”

“Thanks, Jasper. Great.” Monty rolls his eyes. “Speaking of communication issues, it’s been two whole days since you updated me on how Maya’s doing, is your phone broken?”

Jasper’s eyes narrow. “You’re baiting me to change the subject.”

“It’s working,” Monty replies, sitting back in his chair and taking another drink of his coffee. “Just give in.”

“Or don't,” Harper mutters, but Jasper is already ready to get started, and she can tell. She makes a face at Monty, but he just shrugs at her. He'd rather hear Maya stories than talk about his own life.

Jasper sighs dramatically. “Okay, fine, I’ll talk about her. But because I want to, not because you’re trying to change the subject.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Monty says blandly. Miller snorts into his coffee.

From: Raven (7:01 PM)
what time do u finish coffee?

To: Raven (7:02 PM)
Already done. Why, what’s up?

From: Raven (7:04 PM)
wanna become my favorite person?

To: Raven (7:06 PM)
You mean I’m not already?

From: Raven (7:09 PM)
ofc you are. but you’ll be my real favorite if you bring me mcd’s for dinner? :)

To: Raven (7:11 PM)
What’s your work address?

Raven works until closing time most days. Monty thinks she would work later if the garage were open later. The way she talks about it, he thinks she would move in if she could. He doesn’t blame her - Raven takes to machines the way Monty takes to computers. If he could move into a really good tech store, he would. Unfortunately, all he has is TekFix.

Raven, lucky bastard that she is, adores her garage wholeheartedly. As soon as Monty gets there, he can see why. It’s the only body shop within several miles, and because of that, it’s alive with action.

Raven’s two cars down from where he walks in, arguing viciously with a blond man. By the set of her shoulders, he can tell she’s not really pissed, but he can also tell she’s not going to let this go for just anything. Hopefully dinner will be that thing.

He intentionally makes his footfalls heavier as he gets closer. Raven turns when she hears them, and the irritation melts off her face. She turns back to the blond and says something (it’s witty and cutting, he’s sure) before heading towards Monty.

“Do I at least get food?” the blond yells after her.

“Only people with good ideas get food,” Raven calls back, but she’s smiling. She stops in front of Monty. “I’m heading to the break room. You can come if you want.”

“Yeah, sure.” He hands the McDonald’s bag to her.

“God, that smells good, thanks for bringing it. C’mon.” Raven starts off down a row of cars. Monty trails behind, looking left and right as he goes. “How was coffee?”

“Bitter as my soul, just how I like it. How was fixing cars?”

“It’d be better without dickish co-workers.” She smiles fondly. “Wick’s an asshole, but he gets shit done.”

“Oh, he’s one of those people.” The kind that you like but don’t admit you like? Monty knows them.

Raven scrunches her nose at him as she pushes open a door to a white room with a couple of couches and a fridge. The walls are smudged with oil, and Monty’s not sure the couches are actually couches so much as piles of grease that took on solid forms. He understands why Raven likes it here.

“Did you get anything for yourself?” Raven asks, crashing onto a couch with the ease of someone who crashes onto that couch regularly. “This doesn’t look like enough for two.”

“I ate already,” Monty answers, sitting next to her. “Not to mention, I had coffee.”

“Yeah, you should bring your coffee people home one day, they seem cool.” Raven unwraps her burger, breathes in the burger grease and cholesterol, and takes a huge bite.

“Yeah, they’re great.” He thinks back to Harper, and how she’d seemed so excited to ask about the band. “Actually, about that?”

“Mmf?” Raven leans back and looks at him, still chewing burger. She gestures for him to talk.

“Does Fluorine and the Machine ever play in public?”

Raven visibly freezes before swallowing. “Only once,” she says, so cautious that it alarms him. “Why?”

“Miller - one of the coffee people - works in a coffee shop that has bands in sometimes. He says he can book us, if we want.”

Raven eats a french fry, taking her time to think. “I think it’s a good idea,” she says slowly. “We don’t really perform much, but we should.”

“Why are you in a band that doesn’t perform?”

“Why are you?”

“Because I figured we’d start eventually?”

“Good point.” Raven sighs and pushes the McDonald’s bag off to the side, and Monty realizes that this is serious. “We’ve only done one gig before, and it was - do you remember the Mount’s Battle of the Bands last year?”

Monty cringes on reflex. He didn’t go to the competition, but one of the bands brought a smoke machine that malfunctioned and caught on fire. There are still scorch marks around the edges of the open-air pavilion on campus. “You weren’t the smoke machine band, were you?”

“Fuck, no.” Raven looks offended. “We entered because Clarke’s girlfriend thought it’d be cool to be dating a rock star. Except we sorta sounded like shit, because Clarke doesn’t like to play an electric and the person doing soundboard sucked. But we won third.”

Monty whistles. “Not bad.”

“Yeah, except music was never the plan for any of us, y’know? Finn wanted to keep playing, he was ready to roll with anything. But Clarke and I had it all figured out. We knew exactly where we were going, and the band sort of fucked that up.”

“But you’re still in it.”

“Yeah, we are. Finn convinced us to keep it going, but only as a casual thing. And it’s fun, it makes sure we see each other. The same way coffee does for you guys, right?”

Monty can’t argue with that. If the study group didn’t have his best friends in it, he would’ve dropped it after Tsing’s class, but Miller and Harper are too important to let go. “Didn’t you live together when you started the band?”

Raven takes a long drink from her soda. Monty decides maybe he should ask another question. “So you’d be okay if we started performing?”

“I don’t see why not.” Raven shrugs. “I can be a bassist and a mechanic, right? And I’m pretty good at both. When’s the gig?”

“Ah.” Monty doesn’t duck his head, but he’s a little tempted. “Next Monday?”

“As in, six days from now?” Raven sighs and shakes her head. “Clarke’s gonna be pissed.”

“What about Finn?”

“He's gonna be over the moon that he’s in the majority again.”

“So we’re going to talk about it?”

“Yeah, why not? Worst that happens is Clarke says no.” Raven smiles at him before taking a bite out of her Big Mac.

FEBRUARY 5

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Clarke says flatly.

Finn rests his drumsticks on top of his snare drum and looks at Raven. “Why the change of heart?”

“There’s no point to being in a band that doesn’t perform.” Raven squares her shoulders and looks at Clarke evenly. “It’s not a big deal, it’s three songs.”

“It’s in four days!”

“And Re-do has been ready to perform since last year.”

“Well-” Clarke presses her lips together, looking viciously unhappy. Monty gets the distinct feeling that he’s missing a piece of this story. “We don't have a name.”

“I vote Skywalkers,” Monty mumbles. Clarke glares at him.

“We can’t rip off Star Wars, don’t be ridiculous,” Raven says.

“Guys,” Clarke pleads. “You know that-”

“Monty, does the coffee shop keep any record of who performs?” Finn asks abruptly.

Monty frowns. “I doubt it. Not publicly, anyways.”

“So nobody’s going to know that it was us?”

“Not unless we tell them.”

Clarke unfolds her arms, hands moving to her hips. She doesn’t say anything, but her shoulders seem a little looser, and her jaw is less clenched.

“It’s one night,” Raven cajoles, stepping closer to Clarke. “It’s going to be fun, remember? The last performance was great.”

Clarke sighs, and all the fight visibly leaves her body. She looks back at Monty. “This Monday?”

“Yeah. It’s like two blocks from campus. Not far.”

“Can your friend get us an early time?”

“Definitely.” Monty reaches for his phone and pulls up the messaging app.

“I think we need to pick a name,” Finn points out. “If we’re performing.”

“We don’t have to, Miller said they have a lot of nameless bands.”

Raven lifts an eyebrow. “Did he sound like he liked the nameless bands?”

“No,” Monty admits. “I really do like Skywalkers, though.”

“Maybe a variation,” Raven muses. “Starwalkers. Starsteppers. Starsteppers?”

“Sounds too hipster.” Finn taps his chin. “Moonwalkers.”

“We’re not a Michael Jackson cover band,” Monty answers. “Starwalkers was okay.”

“Star… Starrunners?” Raven glances around. “No?”

“Spacewalkers,” Clarke says. Monty looks over at her. She’s standing straighter, and Monty can tell that this isn’t a suggestion. This is their name. “We should be Spacewalkers.”

“I like it,” Raven murmurs. Finn nods in approval. Monty reaches for his phone.

To: Miller (6:27 PM)
We’re in. Clarke wants to know if you can get us an early time?

From: Miller (6:33 PM)
Consider it done. Got a name yet?

To: Miller (6:35 PM)
Consensus seems to be The Spacewalkers.

From: Miller (6:38 PM)
Nice. See you Monday, then.

To: Jasper, Harper, Maya (4:15 PM)
My band’s performing 8:40 Monday night at Grounders. You’re all invited.

From: Jasper (4:16 PM)
yeeeeeeeeeeeeah!

From: Maya (4:17 PM)
consider me & j there!

From: Harper (4:57 PM)
can’t wait!! :)

FEBRUARY 9

therealjasperj
Can’t wait to see my boy @noteasybeing_green perform tonight! MWU folks - hit up @grounderscoffee @ 8:40 to get your world rocked. #ihaventseenthemplayyet

millernathan, cestmayavie, and 24 others like this

haaaaaarper i’m so excited!
itsvickiiii wow monty’s in a band?

“You seem nervous today,” Murphy leans back against the wall. “What’s the matter, got a date tonight? Does he know you can hack his phone with a safety pin?”

“Not a date,” Monty mutters, glancing at the clock. It’s 11:54, which means that Raven will be by any time with his lunch. (He can’t figure out if she’s bringing him lunch because she’s nervous, she thinks he’ll be nervous, or just because she can.) It also means that he’ll officially be a musician within the next nine hours. So maybe he is a little nervous.

“So you admit that you’re nervous? What, you have a test and you’re scared you’re going to get a ninety-five instead of a hundred?”

Monty snorts. “C’mon, dude, at this point I’d start crying and thanking God if I got a ninety-five.”

Murphy pauses thoughtfully. Monty takes the opportunity to lean onto the counter, propping his elbows up and cradling his face in one hand. He already caught himself drumming his fingers along to his part in Bad Blood a couple of times. Keeping his hands busy helps him avoid the temptation, so he’s been tinkering, texting, and twiddling his thumbs all day.

“Fair point,” Murphy allows at last. “Do I get any more guesses?”

“Sure.” Monty shrugs. “You’ve got two strikes, I’ll tell you after this.”

Murphy snaps his fingers and points at him. “You’re going to tell Jasper you’re in love with him.”

Monty laughs, eyes darting to the clock. 11:57. “What the hell, that’s not even close. Three strikes, get out.”

“Damn,” Murphy says with a grin. “Thought that was it for sure. So what is it really?”

Monty blinks slowly at him. “Well,” he says, “you know how I said my roommate’s in a rock band?”

“Yeah, bass, right?” Murphy’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit, are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?”

“Even further than the last guess,” Monty mutters. (He’s not opposed to dating girls, per se, but he’s also not particularly interested in it, and Raven’s too good of a friend to think about dating.) “No, actually, she and her friends invited me to join. We’re performing tonight. First show ever.”

To Monty’s utter lack of surprise, after a few seconds of stunned silence, Murphy says, “No, really, what’s your date’s name?”

Monty rolls his eyes and turns to face the front of the store. “How long have I worked here?”

“Two years. And you’ve had two dates. It’s about time you got a third one.”

Monty graciously resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. “How many dates have you been on again, Murphy?”

“Not as many as I deserve,” Murphy says solemnly.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could go on a negative number of dates.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Murphy says amiably, which is of course when Raven walks in with Monty’s Subway sandwich.

“Do I need to kick his ass?” she asks Monty as she walks to the counter, although there’s no heat to it.

“Nah, I could take him.” Monty stands up straight. “Thanks for the sandwich.”

“Anytime.” Raven grins, glances over his shoulder, and leans in. “So that’s the serial killer, right? Because if not, he should be.”

Monty narrowly avoids bursting into laughter. “No, it’s him,” he whispers back. “I’d be worried if there were two Murphys here.”

“I’d be worried if you had two serial killer coworkers,” Raven answers before straightening. She gives Murphy a once-over and an unimpressed scowl before looking back at Monty. “I’ve gotta get back to school, I need to talk to my professor before my next class. But what time did you say you’re gonna be home? Clarke and Finn want us to meet up at their place beforehand so we can get dinner and head over together.”

“Five-fifteen, we can leave as soon as I’m back.” Monty leans across the counter to give Raven a quick hug. “Have a good class. Or is it classes?”

“Classes. Make sure you’re home on time, I want to get you dressed before we leave.”

“Get me dressed?” Monty echoes suspiciously. He trusts Raven with his life and his home, but he’s not sure he trusts her with his wardrobe.

Raven smiles wickedly and drops the Subway bag on the counter. “See you in a few hours, Monty,” she says brightly, and then turns and walks back outside.

Monty opens the Subway bag. “I’m gonna take my break in the back,” he says, pulling the sandwich out, and turns around. Murphy… well, Murphy looks like someone smacked him in the head with a two-by-four. He’s completely dazed, and Monty frowns. “Um. Murphy?”

“Who was that?”

“My roommate. Raven? Bass player? We were just talking about her?”

“That’s your roommate?”

“Yeeeeees?” Monty frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Monty,” Murphy says seriously, “I’m in love with your hot bassist roommate.”

Monty snorts. “Dude, she’d eat you alive.”

Murphy leans in, looking intense. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Monty thinks he was happier before he knew that about Murphy. “We’re performing tonight at Grounders. You can come check us out. I’m taking my lunch break now.”

“Yeah,” Murphy says softly. Monty grabs his sandwich and heads to the back room, wondering whether or not Raven would think it’s funny that his coworker is head over heels for her.

To: Raven (5:03 PM)
Heading out, be home soon.

From: Raven (5:06 PM)
get ready to get all prettied up!!

To: Raven (5:07 PM)
I’m scared now.

“First thing’s first,” Raven says, and throws something at Monty. It’s a plain black T-shirt, but it’s too big to be hers and too small to be his. “Change.”

“What,” Monty says flatly.

“Put the shirt on,” Raven clarifies, turning back to dig through the closet. “I know it’s small, but I cut off part of the bottom, so you should still be able to move and play.”

“You cut-” Monty turns the shirt around in his hands. Sure enough, the hem is ragged, and now that he looks, it’s definitely too short to fit. “What exactly is the aesthetic here? Showing off how skinny I am?”

“Pseudo-punk.” She holds up a red leather jacket. When she sees the look on Monty’s face, she adds, “This is for me, not you.”

“Oh, thank God,” he mutters.

“But anyways. Black and red, a little flowy, a little edgy. T-shirts and ties, which is what you’re going to be wearing.” Raven reaches into the back of the closet, pulls something out, and throws it backwards without looking. It’s a blood red tie, which lands at Monty’s feet. “Seriously. Change. I’ll find some jeans for you.”

There’s no point to arguing, so Monty slips out into the common area to change. The T-shirt pulls tight across his chest, and he tries to yank the hem down unsuccessfully. It barely comes down to the waist of his jeans, and that’s with his arms down at his side.

“Why did you cut the bottom of this shirt off again?” he asks, returning to Raven’s bedroom. “Do people really want to see my stomach?”

Raven turns around, pair of grey jeans in hand, eyes narrowing as she assesses him. “Not bad,” she decides. “Here, try these on. Your shoes are fine, we don’t need to change those. You know any cool ways to tie a tie?”

“I can do a Windsor.”

“Cool, Monty. I said cool.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll get Finn to do it. Go put the jeans on, give me a minute to change, and then I’ll see what I can do about your hair.”

“My hair?” Monty pauses, thinking about what rock star hair normally looks like. Short. Snippy. “No scissors.”

Raven gives him a weird look. “Well, I was going to use hair gel. Unless you want a mohawk, but that’d be a razor, not scissors.”

“No, gel is fine,” Monty says quickly, and leaves for the common area again. The jeans have a chunky belt already threaded through the loops, with a huge silver buckle. Monty shucks his own jeans off, takes a moment to wonder where Raven got the new pair, and pulls them on. Thankfully, with the belt, they come up higher than the hem of the shirt, and he fastens the buckle easily.

“How do they fit?” Raven calls from the other room.

“Where did you get these?” Monty runs a finger along the buckle. It looks nice. Really, really nice.

“Oh, I banged a guy once and he pissed me off, so I hid all his clothes. He had to leave the building naked.” She pauses. “I washed them, don’t worry. You’re safe from the douchebag germs.”

“Good to know.” The jeans are bulkier than anything he normally wears, with a little flare around the ankles, but they’re his size, and if nothing else he gets a new pair of pants out of the deal. “Do you steal clothes often?”

“Only to the assholes.” Raven appears in the doorway, hair loose around her shoulders for possibly the first time since Monty’s met her. She’s decked out in black and white, with the red jacket completing the look.

“So do we have a color scheme?” Monty wonders. “Or are Finn and Clarke going to be green and gold?”

“I’ll kick their asses if they show up in green and gold,” Raven promises. “C’mere, let’s do our hair and makeup and talk about boys.” She goes to the bathroom, and Monty trails behind her, hoping desperately that she was joking. “So how opposed are you to eyeliner?”

“Very,” Monty answers immediately.

“Good, me too,” Raven says, reaching into a drawer and rummaging around. She pulls out a huge fluffy brush and a compact of something powdery, which she immediately begins sweeping across her cheeks. “You never seemed like an eyeliner person to me.”

“Jasper’s sister did mine once,” Monty admits.

“Jasper has a sister?”

“Yeah, Poppy. She’s seven years younger than him, and she thought I would be the perfect makeup model.”

Raven puts the compact down and pulls out another, this one with a smaller brush. “Let me guess, Jasper flipped out and then took pictures.”

“Exactly.” Monty grins fondly. “She was eleven, she didn’t realize that eyeliner wasn’t supposed to look like a raccoon.”

Raven snorts and brushes dark brown on her eyelids. “Some twenty-year-old women don’t realize that.”

“Jasper still has pictures of it somewhere, I think.”

“You mean there are pictures of eighteen-year-old Monty Green with raccoon eyes? Damn, when we’re famous, the fans’ll go nuts for that.”

Monty laughs quietly. “Yeah, that’ll get them talking, all right. She did my lipstick, too. Barbie pink.”

Raven throws a grin over her shoulder and pulls out a tube of mascara. “Okay, now I want to see these pictures.”

“Talk to Jasper. He’ll probably show you.” Monty pauses, thinking about it. “Actually, on second thought, don’t. He’ll probably post them on Facebook so you can see.”

Raven picks up a tube of lip gloss. “He still uses Facebook?”

“Jasper uses all forms of social media. He has a MySpace.” He offered to make Spacewalkers a MySpace page, but Monty decides not to mention that. It’d be bad if Raven laughed so hard she hurt herself and couldn’t perform. “He Snapchats me more than everyone else I know, combined.”

Raven smacks her lips and sets the lip gloss down. “You clearly haven’t added Wick. He won’t leave me alone. Hair up or down?”

“My hair’s not long enough to put up.”

“I meant mine.” Raven rolls her eyes. “But I should probably do your hair first, we need to leave soon. C’mere.”

Monty reluctantly steps forward. “What exactly is the plan here?”

“Relax, oh my god, I’m not going to shave your head.” Raven opens another drawer and pulls out a bottle of gel. “Turn around. We’re gonna make all the boys want to take you home.”

“What, make them want what they can’t have?” Monty grins. “Sound like a pl- aaghhhh.”

“Don’t be a baby, it’s just gel.” Raven keeps running her hands through the back of Monty’s hair, and he has to repress a shudder. He’s never liked having things in his hair. “So you’re not going home with anyone tonight?”

“Uh, you.” Monty frowns. “What, are you planning on it?”

“Nah, not unless I meet someone I really like. Maybe one of your friends?”

“No way. Miller’s gay, Harper’s ace, and Jasper and Maya already told me I’m their first pick for a threesome.”

“They did not.” Another squirt of gel, more combing through hair.

“It was Maya’s idea. I think I’m their only potential third partner.”

“They probably don’t know many people who would be up for it.” Raven pauses, and so do her hands. “Wait, would you be up for it?”

“Probably not. It’d be too weird.”

Raven starts rubbing gel into his hair again. “That’s what Clarke said when Finn and I asked her, but that’s where the band started.”

Well, that certainly explains the way they act around each other. “But the three of us wouldn’t be able to start a band,” Monty argues. “The most we’d be able to do is start a superhero team.”

“That sounds like the best idea ever, are you kidding? Sleep with them right now!” Raven backs away. “Your hair’s done, by the way.”

Monty turns to the mirror. The front of his hair looks the same as it always does, but the back is spiked back away from his head. “Huh. Nice. Also, not sleeping with them.”

Raven turns on the faucet and rinses the gel off her hands. “But think about it. You could be the first gay rock star superhero engineer. That’s not worth trying for?”

“I’d be a lousy superhero. Do you need help with your hair?”

“No, I’ll get Clarke. Get your shoes so we can go.” Raven waves him away, digging through a drawer, and Monty leaves to find his shoes.

Dinner at Finn and Clarke’s is “spaghetti a la Collins,” which translates into “spaghetti with a shit-ton of melted butter and parmesan cheese.” Monty has never had spaghetti with anything other than tomato sauce, so he’s slightly wary.

Finn, who’s wearing a tux shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the bottom half-tucked into his red jeans, watches him with bated breath. “What do you think?”

Monty swallows his first bite. “Pretty damn good.”

“He should be a chef, right?” Clarke says, over from the couch where she’s pulling Raven’s hair up.

Finn rolls his eyes and leans towards Monty. “She’s been trying to get me to be a chef for the last three years,” he says conspiratorially. “Personally, I think it’s because her mom loves microwave dinners, and I make her the first home-cooked food she’s had in years, not because I’m actually any good.”

“Oh, shut up,” Raven groans. “You can cook! Suck it up and take the compliment.”

Monty takes another bite of the spaghetti, more thoughtfully this time. “It needs a little heat. Pepper, or something.”

“See, Monty can be your first critic!” Clarke tosses a smile at them. “And Raven and I will be your customers. Open a restaurant, Finn.”

“Fuck, no, Raven’s my co-owner,” Finn says immediately.

Raven gives him a thumbs-up. “You make spaghetti and scrambled eggs, I make sandwiches. Dream team.”

“Finished!” Clarke jumps to her feet. “Gimme some spaghetti, I’m starving.”

“Slow your roll, princess,” Finn laughs, like there aren’t already two plates of spaghetti on the counter for her and Raven. “I’ve gotta do Monty’s tie, anyways. Where is it?”

Raven reaches into her bag and throws the tie to Finn. He whistles. “This is nice. You stealing clothes from assholes again?”

“Yup.” She pauses. “Okay, that one’s old, but still yes.”

“Mmmhm,” Finn says, looping the tie around Monty’s neck. “Here, adjust this so it’s as long as you want it.”

Monty does so, and Finn reaches forward and starts doing something complicated looking with the thin end of the tie. He blinks down in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Trinity knot.”

“Nice one,” Clarke says, picking up a plate of spaghetti.

“Yeah, It’s kinda classy, kinda edgy. Like us.” Finn smiles at Clarke. Clarke’s outfit is the perfect combination of classy and edgy, as far as Monty’s concerned (peasant blouse and leather leggings? It’s a good combination on her.) and he’s suitably impressed. It figures that Clarke Griffin is good at fashion, too.

“Aaand done.” Finn leans back, and Monty examines the knot. “Cool, right?”

“How,” Monty says. It is incredibly cool and also far beyond his really ugly Windsor abilities.

“Finn is really good at three things,” Raven explains. “Compromising, keeping secrets, and tying ties.”

“What about cooking? I’m a great cook.”

“Of course, dear,” Raven says, earning a scowl. She flashes Monty an amused glance, and he has to fight back a smile.

Clarke, being Clarke, has a car. Finn’s drum set takes up most of the back seat, so Monty volunteers to ride with it and make sure nothing falls. He ends up squished between the bass drum and the door while Finn and Raven share the front seat. The keyboard, guitar, and bass all fit into the trunk, although the amp is pushing it.

“If I drive really slowly,” Clarke says, looking down at the trunk, “nothing’s going to break.”

True to her word, she drives painfully slowly. It takes two trips and fifteen minutes to load the car, and another five minutes to get to Grounders. It’s exactly eight o’clock when they traipse into Grounders. A barista - not Miller, but still one that Monty vaguely recognizes - helps them carry the pieces of the drum set inside and to the back, where there’s a semicircle of stage area cleared.

“This place is weird,” Raven announces as soon as all their things are safely off to the side. “Is the coffee good?”

“The coffee’s fantastic,” Monty assures her.

“Good.” She looks at the stage area, where the barista is busily positioning a microphone and an amp. “I get the feeling we’re the hardest-rocking band this place has ever seen.”

“It’s going to be a nice change,” someone says off to the side. Monty turns and sees Miller, holding a cup of coffee. “Caramel double-shot?”

“My hero,” Monty answers, taking the coffee. “Can I drink this, or do we need to wait for Harper to tell you how much I like it?”

“I can tell how much you like my coffee without her.” Miller half-smiles and gives Monty a once-over. “You look good.”

Monty points at Raven. “All her.”

“Hey!” Finn objects.

“Except the knot in the tie. That was Finn.”

“You must be Miller,” Raven says. “I’m Raven.”

Miller shakes her hand. “Good to see you actually exist.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” she laughs. “No, don’t tell me, Monty forgot to tell you about me.”

“More like he forgot to say he moved at all.”

“It was a legitimate mistake,” Monty objects. Raven and Miller exchange a smirky look, and Monty wants to bury his head in his hands.

Finn comes to the rescue, sliding in next to Raven. “Hey man, thanks for getting us in here. I’m Finn.”

“Anything for a friend, right? You look like you’ll be a nice change of pace.”

“I can tell,” Clarke mutters, looking at the stage.

Monty follows her gaze and sees a tall, pale brunette with tortoiseshell glasses and a banjo. “Oh my god, you get hipsters."

“Pretty much.” Miller sighs. “It’s three hours of this once a month. It could be worse.”

“I hope we make your night better,” Clarke answers. Miller turns to her, and she holds out her hand for shaking. “Clarke.”

“Miller, not that you haven’t guessed. So when are you guys on?”

“In forty minutes.”

“God, I can’t wait that long,” Miller mutters, just as the brunette taps the mic. “I’ve gotta get back to the counter. If you guys want drinks, come on over, they’ll be on me.”

“Sweet,” Raven says and follows him back to the counter, leaving Clarke smirking at Monty.

“What?” Monty says resignedly.

Finn claps him on the shoulder. “Dude. You didn’t mention he was hot.”

“Um. Yeah. Surprise?”

“Like, super hot,” Clarke adds, seemingly just to watch him squirm. (He knows Miller is hot, okay, he couldn’t possibly not notice. He just blocks that out of his head because after Jasper, he’s not willing to go back to crushing on his friends.) “And he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Bullshit, he made eye contact with all three of you,” Monty says matter-of-factly.

Finn opens his mouth to argue, but brunette finishes tuning her banjo and chirps out “Hi, everyone!” Monty silently thanks her for saving his ass, even if he’s not in the mood to hear Within Temptation in the style of Mumford and Sons. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what she plays.

noteasybeing_green
pre-show selfie. #getreadytorock

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Brunette plays for fifteen minutes, which Monty spends alternately wincing and nodding in surprised appreciation. Raven, Finn, and Clarke all vanish and come back with coffee. After brunette, a jazz combo comes on, complete with a singer crooning Ke$ha lyrics.

“This is more variety than I was expecting,” Finn remarks as they finish their last song and wrap up.

“We’re next,” Raven says. The jazz combo waves at the crowd till their applause ends and then makes their way off the stage area. Monty feels butterflies erupt in his chest. No more waiting.

The barista gives them the high sign, and Clarke jumps to her feet. “Good luck ritual?”

“What?” Monty says, but before he can ask a better question, Raven grabs his shoulders and spins him around so his back is to Finn and Clarke.

“So there’s this ritual we have from our one gig that they insisted on bringing back,” she says apologetically. “We do kisses for luck.”

“Kisses for luck,” Monty repeats. He’s heard stranger things (Jasper used to spit in a bush before every marching band competition, and he never told Monty why) but he’s still not sure he’s ready to kiss Finn or Clarke.

“So…” Raven leans in and presses her lips to Monty’s, and he’s too surprised to do anything other than kiss back. She tastes like coffee and peppermint chapstick, and she is also a very, very good kisser. She pulls away and smiles. “Good luck.”

“You, too,” Monty answers automatically. He hears a snicker from behind him and turns to see Clarke and Finn pulling away from each other. “And you guys, if you need it.”

“Nah, Clarke wishes luck really well. With tongue.” Finn smirks at him.

Clarke smacks his arm. “Get moving, slowpoke.” She picks up her guitar and slings it around her neck with practiced ease. “Time to go.”

Monty gets the keyboard set up and concert-ready within a minute. He helps Finn and the barista set up, and by the time that’s done, Raven and Clarke are already set up. He looks out at the crowd. There are twenty people there tops, but in the back corner, he can see the study group table. Jasper’s in the corner, as per usual, feet kicked up and Maya pulled close to his side. Across the table, Harper and Miller are whispering to one another. Monty smiles at them. That group - they’re the real reason he’s here.

“What’s up, Grounders!” the barista says, sliding on stage next to Clarke. “We hope you’re having fun at Music Monday!” There’s a smattering of applause. “Now we’ve got lots of the same bands every week, but we like to give you all a little variety. So here to mix things up, we’ve got a brand-new band - The Sky People!”

Monty looks over at Finn. “Sky People?” he whispers.

Finn just shrugs. “We’ll work with it,” he whispers back. “Ready?”

“Course. You?”

“Of course.” Finn looks to Clarke, and Monty does the same. Raven’s gripping the neck of her bass. This is their only chance to make a first impression, and it’s all Clarke.

“I wanna start from the top,” Clarke sings, and she starts playing slow arpeggios as she sings.

Monty takes a deep breath. Time to go. Finn lifts his drumsticks, and Raven shifts her bass, and Clarke sings, “I want a complete re-do,” and all of them hit the chord better than they’ve ever practiced it. It doesn’t quite throw Monty off, but it comes close. Clarke half-laughs into the mic before she keeps on singing. Monty glances out into the crowd and sees everyone is sitting up a little straighter now, and he smiles to himself. Yep, they’re doing their job.

Re-do is a blur of Raven’s bass notes and his occasional accent chords. It’s a keep-moving-forward kind of song, and that’s what he does. He barrels through it, and it’s over too fast. They hit their last chord and there’s applause from throughout the coffee shop, more than the banjo girl or the jazz combo had gotten.

“Hi, everyone,” Clarke says. Monty can hear the smile in her voice. “We’re The Sky People-”

“Apparently,” Raven mutters under her breath. Finn snorts and shifts on his stool.

“-and we’re going to play some Bastille for you.” Clarke looks at Raven. “Ready?”

“Born ready,” Raven answers. She doesn’t hesitate before launching into the opening notes of Bad Blood. Finn jumps in with the drum part perfectly. Monty’s chords are all quarter notes, and with the rhythm already set, he has a pretty easy time in this song. By the time Clarke has started singing words beyond “oh-oh-oh,” Monty can tell this is locked in. (He’s right, and even though he botches an entrance, Clarke forgets a line, so he’s not alone.)

The song finishes in one piece, and there’s some more applause. Monty takes a minute to scan the crowd. It actually looks like more people than it did when they started, with some people in line, and one familiar pale face in the back of the room. Monty smiles. He’s not sure whether Murphy came to see him or Raven, but either way he’s glad to see him there.

“So!” Clarke says brightly. “Thank you all for coming out, we hope you enjoyed the show. Stick around to hear some more cool music and make sure you tip your baristas. We’re going to play you out with a song you’ve probably heard before.” She turns to Monty and smiles at him, which he takes as his cue.

The beginning to Radioactive is flawless. Clarke hums into the mic, and he can hear Raven humming along too. He laughs to himself, and Raven grins at him. He’d never really performed outside of marching band and drumline shows, where he was just another face in a group of performers. Now, though - as they all hit their entrances and Clarke starts singing, as he keeps playing and performing - he’s a key member. If he wants to be dramatic, and he does, he’s the reason they’re here at all. He got them performance-ready, after all. And it's exhilarating, being here, doing this. It's fantastic.

Clarke sings out her last “Radioactive, radioactive,” and the thirty-ish people all burst into applause. Monty can see a gaggle of studentsclapping for them as they walk by outside. It takes a solid thirty seconds for the applause to die down, and Clarke leans into the mic. “Thank you so much, everyone, have a good night!” She steps back, gripping her guitar. Her hands are shaking, and Monty wonders if she’s having the same adrenaline rush that he is.

Raven leaves the stage, going off to where they’d stood before. The barista comes up to help Finn with his drums. Monty lifts up the keyboard, unsurprised that it feels much lighter than it normally does. He folds the stand, tucks it under his arm, and follows Clarke out to her car.

“That was fucking amazing,” Clarke says as soon as they’re outside. She sets her guitar against the side of her car as Monty lays his keyboard in the trunk. “Oh my god, we sounded great.”

“Damn straight,” Raven agrees as she comes outside, holding her bass and two of Finn’s cymbals. “Your voice was good tonight.”

“So was yours. Nice back-ups.” Clarke smiles, and Raven grins back, laying her bass on top of Monty’s keyboard.

“I don’t think we’ve ever sounded so locked-in,” Monty says. He holds the door open as Finn comes out holding a couple of different drum parts, followed by the barista struggling with the rest. “Our tempo was good.”

“Thanks,” Finn grunts, pushing the biggest drum into the back seat. “That was kickass, right? We can all agree that was kickass.”

“Technically, I’m not supposed to show favoritism,” the barista says. “But you guys are the best group we’ve had since this shit started.”

“Thanks, dude,” Monty says. The barista slaps him a high-five before heading back inside. “We’re so good people are going against their training to tell us we’re good.”

“Fucking right,” Raven says happily. “C’mon, group hug before we finish loading up.” She holds out her arms, and Finn obligingly steps in, letting one arm curl around his shoulders. Monty joins them, standing next to Finn, and Clarke completes the circle, pulling them all closer to her.

“Go Spacewalkers,” Finn says.

“Sky People,” Clarke corrects him.

Finn looks at her disbelievingly. “But Spacewalkers sounds so cool!”

“We’ll have this fight tomorrow, first I want to meet Monty’s friends.” Raven pulls back and goes to the rest of the drum set. She picks up a drum and turns to Finn. “Would this fit in the trunk?”

“Probably,” Finn says, taking it from her. “Let’s try.”

The drum does, in fact, fit in the trunk, and it takes all of two minutes to finish loading the drum set in. Monty is the first back inside. He can’t find Murphy, but that’s fine. Monty will see him again on Saturday, and he can thank him for coming then. He’d rather focus on the people that are here.

Maya spots him first. She breaks away from Jasper’s side and wraps him in a hug. “You were awesome!” she laughs into his ear.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he says, returning her embrace. Maya’s not the most tactile person, outside of being with Jasper, but he’s always happy to give her a hug when she wants one.

Harper’s next, and as soon as Maya steps back, she flings her arms around his neck. “You’re a staaaar,” she sings out, giggling. “You guys are gonna be famous!”

“Bullshit, we’re already famous,” Monty counters. Harper’s arms tighten. “Were we really that good?”

“You were definitely that good,” Harper says firmly. “You were absolutely fantastic and I’m never listening to any other music again.”

“You’re not going to have a lot of music to listen to,” Monty warns her, but he’s still grinning when he pulls away. Harper’s beaming at him, and she catches one of his hands and squeezes. “Glad you had fun.”

“So much fun,” Harper agrees. She moves backwards and Jasper takes her place immediately, grabbing Monty and pulling him in. Monty’s arms find their way around Jasper’s waist easily, familiarly.

“It finally happened,” Jasper mutters into Monty’s neck. “I never thought it would, but it did.”

“What?” Monty says, propping his chin up on Jasper’s shoulder.

“You’re cooler than me.”

Monty stomps on Jasper’s foot, hard. Jasper wheels backwards chanting “ow, ow, fuck, ow.”

“Hey, I could’ve gotten Clarke.” Raven appears over Monty’s shoulder. “She’s wearing heels.”

“Holy shit, Raven,” Jasper whines. “That’s just mean.”

“That was the goal, yeah.” Raven still leans in for a hug, and Jasper happily obliges. “Thanks for coming.”

“You sounded great, I’m glad I saw it.” Jasper’s eyes flick over to Monty to assure that he knows Jasper’s talking to him, too. “So have you met Harper and Maya?”

“Nope, not yet.” Raven pulls away and turns to Maya. “So you’re the girlfriend he wouldn’t shut up about every time I was with him?”

Maya smiles. “And you’re Monty’s new roommate who welds all the time?”

“Exactly. But you can call me Raven.”

Maya shakes Raven’s hand, smiling brightly. “And you can call me Maya.”

Raven turns to Harper. “And you’re one of those people that made it through Tsing’s famous torture class, right?”

“Wow, famous? It’s almost like I did a good job.” Harper smiles brightly and shakes Raven’s hand. “I’m Harper. Nice to see you exist.”

“Okay, did everyone just think I was living by myself and lying about it?” Monty demands of nobody in particular.

“I helped you move in,” Jasper points out.

“I thought you were lying until I saw your Instagram,” Harper adds.

“I would’ve thought you were lying, but I know Jasper wouldn’t let you leave if you didn’t have somewhere to go,” Maya finishes.

“You guys fucking suck,” Monty mutters. Just because he’s forgotten to shower or sleep or eat every now and again doesn’t mean he’d just move out at the drop of a hat, okay, he has standards. He just forgets the standards sometimes, that’s all.

“At least you have me,” Raven says brightly. “Me, my welding, and my hair gel.”

Monty flinches on instinct. Harper bursts out laughing, and he scowls at her. She laughs even louder.

“So how long have you played bass?” Maya asks Raven. “I used to play string bass back in high school - you know, the huge-” she gestures with her hands, silhouetting something about as tall as her. “But that’s nowhere near as cool as electric bass.”

Raven hisses through her teeth. “Yeah, I gotta agree with you there, I think my bass beats your bass. But I started in high school too.”

“Really?” Monty blurts out. He’d never asked her before, he’d just assumed it was a college thing.

Raven glances at him sideways. “No, I’m just telling people that so they think I know what I’m doing. Yes, really.”

“You were great, your set sounded really solid,” Maya says, bringing their focus back over to her. Her eyes are bright and proud. “Are you guys going to compete in the College Comp?”

Monty glances at Raven, who looks as confused as he feels. “The what?”

“The College Competition? ARK Records?” Maya’s eyes dart between the two of them before landing on Raven. “Are you local?”

Raven shakes her head. “West Virginia.”

“Oh.” Maya shrugs. “There’s this record label in the suburbs of DC called ARK Records. They’re kind of a local legend because they have this competition every year for college students.” She pauses. “Well, technically it’s two competitions, one for solo acts and one for bands. The winner gets to record a demo, and ARK is well-connected. People go from these competitions to Hollywood.”

Monty raises his eyebrows. “No kidding?”

“No kidding,” Maya confirms. “They keep it pretty underground, they’re like the music industry’s best-kept secret. Or, at least, that’s what locals like to think.”

“When is it?” Raven asks.

“May, normally. There’s a registration fee, though. They don’t want people who aren’t serious about it.”

Monty looks over at Raven. “Are we serious about it?”

“Maybe,” Raven says consideringly. “We’d need to bring it up with Clarke and Finn, but we-”

“Bring what up with Clarke and Finn?” Finn asks, throwing arms around Monty and Raven’s shoulders.

“They were saying you need a haircut,” Raven says without missing a beat. “Also, we should enter a battle of the bands.”

“What, the one at the Mount?” Finn turns to gawk at the group at large. “Seriously? Did you guys not hear about the smoke machine thing?”

“Not that one,” Harper says at the same time that Jasper says “Oh my god, that’s legendary.”

“Legendary,” Monty repeats. “We’re calling it legendary?”

“We were there, it was definitely legendary,” Finn says before turning to Harper. “There’s another battle of the bands?”

“No, we’re not doing that again,” Clarke says, coming over to join them. “The last one was awful, remember?”

“But they’re saying there’s another one,” Finn says, turning to face Clarke and squishing Monty against his side in the process. Monty pokes him in the ribs, and Finn only squeezes him tighter. When Monty looks around for help, he makes eye contact with Miller, still behind the counter, and mouths help me. Miller mouths back sorry and turns to a customer. Monty silently curses Miller’s amazing work ethic. Jasper would’ve left the counter to help, lazy, loyal fucker that he is.

“Really?” Clarke looks at the group, eyes flitting from face to face. “I didn’t know that.”

“Apparently it’s a local thing,” Monty says before stomping on Finn’s foot. Finn yelps and pulls his arm back from Monty’s shoulder.

“Is that your go-to attack?” Raven asks Monty, still pressed against Finn’s side.

“Only if it’ll work.” He looks around Finn and Raven at Clarke. “It’s sponsored by some record company-”

“ARK Records,” Maya interjects. “They’re in DC and they give college bands a chance to record demos. After a competition, I mean.”

Clarke raises her eyebrows. “We want to record a demo?”

“Maybe,” Finn muses. “We’d be good rock stars. It’d get rid of student loans.”

Raven laughs. “In that case, let’s do it.”

“Guys,” Clarke sighs in exasperation, but she looks sort of fond. “We can talk about this tomorrow. Right now, I want to meet Monty’s friends and then go out for drinks.”

Monty points at his group. “Maya, Jasper, Harper.” He points at Finn. “The one with no concept of personal space-”

“But you can call me Finn.”

“-and Clarke. Everyone knows everyone now.”

“Great, that means we can all head to The Brewery!” Finn starts towards the door, Raven under his arm, but pauses when he realizes nobody’s following. “Uh. Guys?”

“How above-ground is this bar?” Monty asks slowly.

“They’re going to card you,” Harper says apologetically.

“Damn it.” Monty sighs. He’s not one for the bar scene, mostly because there weren’t a lot of non-seedy bars to go to before moving to Virginia, and he’s still not legal, so there’s no option other than seedy.

Raven’s face falls. “Shit, I forgot, you’re not twenty-one yet, are you?”

“What, seriously?” Finn’s smile starts to fade.

Monty waves a hand. “It’s fine, I have a test tomorrow, I can go home and study.” He glances around and realizes that everyone is staring at him in utter dismay. “You know, most people in my class won’t have played a mini-concert the night before. I can’t really use that as an excuse.”

“Monty.” Clarke takes a step closer to him and claps both hands on his shoulders. “You don’t have to drink.”

“Not that I have a choice,” he mutters.

Clarke rolls her eyes. “You can just come and help me hustle people in pool or something, okay?”

“I don’t know how to play pool,” Monty lies.

“You are so full of shit, you’ve hustled me before,” Jasper complains.

“Only once!”

“You can’t hustle someone twice!”

“Boys,” Maya sighs, and they both automatically stop and look at her.

“Please teach me how to do that,” Raven says fervently.

Jasper turns back to Monty, pouting slightly. “I want to watch you hustle someone who isn’t me.”

“I think bars don’t really like hustlers,” Monty says, but he can feel himself caving. “They’re called The Brewery, do they have drinks other than beer?”

“I hear they have a great Shirley Temple,” Harper says, totally poker-faced.

“Fuck you,” Monty sighs. “All right, let’s go.”

“Awesome!” Finn grabs one of Monty’s arms, and Jasper grabs the other, and they haul him out of Grounders. Monty chances one last glance back at Miller, who waves goodbye like one of his friends isn’t being physically coerced out of his cafe. What a bastard. Monty wishes he could come with them.

therealjasperj
Check out @noteasybeing_green and #theskypeople playing #radioactive! #betterthanimaginedragons

millernathan, itsvickiii, and 41 others like this

notfinncollins glad you liked the show dude!
itsvickiii awesome!! miss ya monty! and @caaarter_doooyle i told you he’s in a band now!
caaarter_doooyle damn they’re pretty good! who did monty’s hair haha
noteasybeing_green @caaarter_doooyle that’d be @rockin_raven
caaarter_doooyle @rockin_raven nice job, bruh

“Here, the bartender isn’t looking.” Jasper hands his beer over, and Monty drinks like he’s dying of thirst. “Leave some for me!”

Monty sets the glass down. “You can get more if you want some. I’ve been reduced to taking drinks from you when she’s not looking. Plus I’ll pay you back.”

Jasper leans back in the booth. Clarke is playing pool with Raven, although they don’t seem to be hustling anyone, and Maya, Harper, and Finn are all talking in a corner. “So are you guys going to perform again?”

“I dunno.” Monty takes a drink from his Shirley Temple (it’s surprisingly good and he’s really, really bitter about it) and thinks about it. “Clarke is the only one that didn’t want to perform, but she liked Grounders. I bet we’ll do another Music Monday.”

“Good, let me know.” Jasper takes a drink from his beer. “Maybe next time I’ll put something on Twitter. Do you guys have a Twitter yet?”

“If we did, the name would be wrong.” At Jasper’s curious look, Monty shrugs. “We gave them the name Spacewalkers, and the barista just butchered it.”

Jasper whistles. “Yeah, that’s a pretty big fuck-up. Spacewalkers sounds badass, though. Are you going to go back to that?”

“We haven’t had the chance to talk about it yet.”

“When you pick a name, you should get a Twitter. And Instagram.”

“Is there a point if we only play monthly gigs at a coffee shop?”

“Are you going to do the Battle of the Bands Maya mentioned?” Jasper leans in. “C’mon, I can tell you want to.”

“Like I said, it’s not me, it’s Clarke.”

“Then convince her!”

Monty leans back in his seat. “You're really invested in me doing this.”

“That’s because you want to. You haven’t been into anything like this since you first got that tech job, and you’re having fun. And being around people!”

Monty groans. “Why is everyone so convinced I’m antisocial?”

“Name three people you hang out with regularly who aren’t in this bar.”

“Miller, Murphy, and-” he pauses. Shit. “Okay, I see your point.”

“So take advantage of this,” Jasper presses. “It’s something you like doing, it’s something you’re good at, and it’s good for you. It’s a triple-win!”

Monty opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, Maya slides into the booth next to Jasper. “So, hypothetically,” she begins.

“Hypothetically,” Harper repeats, squishing into the booth next to Monty.

“All completely hypothetical,” Finn adds, sitting next to Harper.

“I’m scared for my life,” Jasper mutters. Monty silently agrees.

“Guys, quit, this is serious,” Finn complains.

Maya leans forward, expression more serious than Monty has ever seen. “In a zombie apocalypse, would you want a lightsaber?”

Monty shakes his head vehemently. “Fuck, no.”

“But it’s a lightsaber!” Jasper says, appalled. “You’d slice the zombies up.”

“Lightsabers aren’t practically viable.”

“I’d go for a Star Trek phaser,” Harper volunteers.

Maya scoffs. “To stun the zombies?”

“Phasers can kill, too,” Finn points out.

Monty decides he’s not drunk enough to take this seriously and reaches for Jasper’s beer again.

To: Miller (10:32 PM)
What time do you guys close?

From: Miller (10:35 PM)
11. why?

To: Miller (10:38 PM)
I have a tipsy roommate who needs some coffee. Mind if we stop in?

From: Miller (10:40 PM)
Course not, come on by.

“I’m not that drunk,” Raven says, even though she’s clinging to Monty’s arm to keep her balance. Monty looks down at her hands and back at her; she scowls. “Really!”

“I know,” Monty says. He decides not to remind her that this is the third time she’s insisted she’s not drunk without being asked. “We’re just going to Grounders to visit Miller and get coffee so you’re even less drunk.”

“I’m not drunk, I’m tipsy,” Raven says haughtily. “And when I’m tipsy, bodily coordination is always first to go.”

“I know, I live with you, remember?” They stop in front of Grounders. Monty checks his phone - ten minutes before closing. He hates to be that guy, but he really does need to make sure Raven can get home.

“Coffee doesn’t make you less drunk,” Raven announces as he pushes the door open. “I’ve tried. You’re still drunk, you’re just drunk and caffeinated.”

Miller pokes his head out from the kitchen. “She’s pretty drunk after just an hour and a half.”

“I think she’s just a lightweight.”

“And I was drinking whiskey.”

“What, seriously?” Monty shakes his head. “And the most I got was some of Jasper’s beer.”

“You poor thing,” Miller intones, reaching behind the counter. “Here, try this.” He holds out a bottle of water.

Monty cracks it open and hands it to Raven, who starts drinking immediately, letting go of his arm in the process. He goes to the side of the counter, closer to Miller. “Thanks.”

“No problem. And I didn’t get to say it earlier, but you guys were great.” Miller props his elbows on the counter. “Definitely better than the fourth straight month of hearing banjo girl wail out Stand My Ground.”

“Oh, God.” Monty winces in sympathy. “That’s a pretty low bar, but I’m glad we cleared it.”

“You were the best group we had all night, a couple of customers even said so.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Miller nods and even cracks a smile, and Monty’s butterflies burst back to life. “Thanks for making my night that much better. And I like the hair.”

Monty instinctively lifts a hand to the back of his head. That’s right. Gel. “That was Raven. But the gig was you. Thanks for getting us in here.”

Miller’s smile widens. “Like I said earlier. Anything for you.”

Monty is pretty sure that’s not what he said earlier, but he can feel the blush creeping up his neck anyways. “Well, I’m glad you feel that way.”

Miller glances up at him, and Monty wonders why he can feel his heartbeat picking up speed. (He knows, of course he does, but this is Miller, and he’s too important to risk losing over a crush.) “I should probably close up shop,” Miller says, like it’s an apology.

“Oh, shoot, right.” Monty stands up a little straighter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from going home. Tell Drew and John I say hi?”

Miller snorts. “If they stop arguing long enough to hear me, I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Ouch. That bad?”

“Unfortunately.” Miller sighs and stands. “But they’ll figure it out. They always do.”

“Well,” Monty says, before he can talk himself out of it, “if you need somewhere else to be, Raven and I have a lot of room. It’s not always quiet, but it’s an escape if you need it.”

Miller looks at him for a few seconds before his eyes slowly crinkle up into a bright smile. He looks warm and happy and Monty realizes he’s completely fucked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Monty smiles back, and he can’t fight the butterflies now, so he stops trying. “I’ll text you our address.”

Miller nods. “I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” Monty turns to Raven, who’s standing still, nursing her water, eyes locked on him. “You ready?”

“Absolutely.” She turns to Miller. “Thanks for de-drunking me.”

“Anytime. Don’t be a stranger.” He looks at Monty. “See you later.”

“See you,” Monty echoes before leading Raven out. The night air feels a lot crisper than it did before they were in Grounders, but Monty can’t make himself mind.

Raven watches the door swing shut before turning to Monty. “You liiiiike him,” she sing-songs.

“You’re still a little tipsy, huh?”

“Not too tipsy to forget this in the morning, and you know I won’t let it go, so it’s just easier for both of us if you tell me now.”

Monty sighs. “Okay, yes, I like him. Let’s get going home.”

“Wait!” Raven folds her arms. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Do about it?”

“Yeah. You’ve got to woo him, Monty.”

“I’ve got to woo him?”

She nods seriously. “Woo him. Chocolates and flowers and moonlight serenades.”

“I miss sober Raven,” Monty mutters.

“Me, too.” Raven links her arm through his. “Let’s go home, Romeo. Sober Raven will be back to tease you tomorrow.”

“Great.” But they start off towards home, Monty quiet and Raven humming. He can’t quite place the tune, but it’s familiar. He frowns. “Are you singing that song from Hercules?”

“It’s called I Won’t Say I’m In Love,” Raven says cheerfully. “Because you won’t.”

Monty shakes his head. “I fucking hate you.”

“Let’s watch Hercules when we get home.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

noteasybeing_green
all tired out after a long night of performing, drinking, and pool. @rockin_raven #wewerewatchingdisney

cgriffin, millernathan, and 13 others like this

millernathan she’s going to have fun waking up.
notfinncollins i bet’i mmore drukn than herrr,
noteasybeing_green @notfinncollins yes, you probably are.