| This scene is rated Everybody |
| Warning: | N/A |
| 2017-08-10 |
| Players: | Mike and Steve |
| GMed by | . |
| Title: | Take a Break, Steve |
Charlotte, NC
Welcome to the largest city in North Carolina with it being only behind Jacksonville, Florida for the largest in the Southeast title. With over three quarters of a million people concentrated in the city portion of the metropolis alone, it can be pretty crowded. When a large scale event is taking place, even more so. One event is taking place tonight and the lines have started to form, waiting for when the doors to the building opens.
Welcome to the Spectrum Center. A grand arena that is home to the Charlotte Hornets NBA team and for tonight only, a temporary home for one Nick Drago. Currently the musician mentioned is holed up in his dressing room, sitting at a table while he works on some finishing touches to his stage makeup. While the other band Mike's touring with takes a rest at their hotel, He's giving that side of the candle a rest while burning the other end.
Some people can get into the musician's dressing room. Steve is one of them, slipping inside (as much as somebody his size can slip anywhere). "Nice arena."
Not even blinking as Steve makes his way inside, Mike leans towards a portable dressing mirror that has been set up on the table. "As far as large arenas go, this is still fairly new." He leans towards the mirror, readying the eyeliner to compliment the wild hair. "If there's one thing the South's good for, its sports. Definitely don't want to planning business in this city during a home game."
"You either go to the game or hide," Steve says, in clear agreement. "How's the tour going?"
"No one's died yet." Mike replies rather bluntly, pausing to turn his head to get another angle of the view, giving a shrug before turning his head again to work on the other eye, "So I'm going to say pretty damn good." Low standards? Perhaps. "Sales for both albums are looking good so that's a plus."
Steve laughs. "People are generally not supposed to die on tour…although I know it happens." Steve leans a bit against the counter, although he's definitely trying his best not to loom.
"You have not experienced all my album releases." Mike replies, turning his head to get a better angle to inspect. Satisfied, he sets the liner down, turning to look to Steve. While his features were a bit androgynous to begin with, the eyeliner just adds to it. "Which… is a good reason why I'm typically a solo act."
A pause, a nod. "Is that why you asked me to check in?" Because Steve is usually good at preventing people from dying. Usually.
Mike chuckles, "Considering my most recent concern, I've already got a few…" He pauses, "Specialists on board. I mainly like you coming along because if anyone needs a break more than me, it's the poster boy of patriotism and heroics." He stands up, straightening out his clothing. Which, to tell the truth is not hard. Black jeans and a black sleeveless shirt is not hard to maintain. Even if it is starting out with an unzipped leather jacket on top. Stupid Artic-like air conditioning… "Have you checked out the VIP box yet?"
Steve laughs a bit. "I could use one, yes. And…no, I haven't." Then he jokes, "Green M&Ms?" Steve, seems to be in a very good, very relaxed mood.
"Of course not," Mike responds, shaking his head, "The green ones were switched out with their Skittles counterparts." While it may not remain that way, Mike zips up his jacket part way, forming a V with the opening. "Easiest way to make sure they staff is reading the venue contract. And act as mild punishment to those who weren't invited but came to the box anyways."
Steve laughs. "I actually prefer skittles." Which may or may not say anything about the Sentinel of Liberty. "So…"
"But only the LIMEY ones!" Mike replies, raising a finger en pointe, giving a flair of an exagerrated accent as he mentions the flavor, betraying the choice of flavor. He lowers the hand, "But seriously, I hear the spread's pretty good."
Steve laughs. "I'll check it out." He studies Mike for a moment. "Thank you." Because he does need an excuse for a break, a reason to just, every now and then, be Steve Rogers.
Mike nods, grinning, "Just don't fill up to the point you don't eat for days. We got another night in this town for the other group and we're going to check out this diner we heard about."
"Straight up American diner or something more different? And Mike…super soldier metabolism, remember?" Steve getting too full just doesn't happen any more.
"A lot of chrome, red neon, black and white tile, fattening foods, 24/7 service, and 2010s pricing." Mike sums it up.
"Sounds good. Now I want a burger," Steve mock-complains. There probably aren't greasy diner burgers in the VIP suite, but…
"Well, be strong and have some bangers and mash in the meantime." Mike consoles, "Eat for the both of us as I won't get to enjoy it." His head turns as there's a knock on the door and a "One Hour!" shouted through. "…It would not go well with the stunt."