for hairsprayed

[thefreak]

[ If someone were to tell Eddie a year ago that he would be standing outside a high class brothel in New York City dressed in the classiest of suits and mentally preparing himself to meet the so-called Sparkling Diamond in hopes that he would agree to be the voice and face of his new album, he would have laughed in their face. For one, Eddie definitely does not have the money with which to even afford a night with this guy, let alone a meeting, but thanks to a few well-meaning friends who were immediately swayed by his songwriting talents alone, they arranged this especially for Eddie ]

I look fucking ridiculous. [ He's muttering to nobody but himself at this point before he finally bites the bullet and enters. There's no cover charge, but there is a certain...expectation as far as the kind of clientele that this place attracts. Hence the getup.

Also because his aforementioned well-meaning friends may have only arranged this meeting by claiming that Eddie was the Duke, and so he has to look the part. Obviously.]

I'm gonna kill 'em, I swear. [ But it's time to be seated in his private booth, time for the show to begin, and Eddie honestly couldn't care less about this part. This place is far too fancy for what he's used to, and there's no way this Sparkling Diamond is as precious as everyone claims he is. But, if it means recording the album of his dreams? Then yeah, he'll bite the bullet for one night and play along. ]

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[hairsprayed]

[ For Steve, this is a performance like any other. He always puts his heart and soul into each night's number not only because his livelihood depends on it, but because he loves it. He loves the cheers and applause and adoring shouts from the clubs patrons, and he loves to know that all eyes are on him as all mouths drool for him. It's empowering to have the choice of who will grace his bed each night, picked for their money or on some occasions their faces and bodies. Tonight is only different because Steve has picked his target well before getting into costume or fixing his hair. Tonight, he belongs to the Duke.

So Steve sings his heart out and dances his ass off, and as he's changing into the next outfit, he peeks out from his hiding spot to see Jeff give the single at a man around Steve's age with a beautiful head of brown curls. That's the Duke? For a moment, Steve can't believe his luck. To think that the rich and powerful studio executive could be someone young and handsome seems impossible, but Steve isn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Burst back out into the spotlight wearing a baby blue lingerie number, he dances his way across the room toward the booth where the Duke sits waiting for him. If the gaping jaw is anything to go by, Steve believes he's already made a great impression. As the music winds down and the dance comes to a close, Steve leaps onto the table and drops to his knees in front of his honored guest. ] I believe you were expecting me?

[thefreak]

[ It feels like luck, having Steve stare down at him like this, even though Eddie knows fully well that this whole evening has been manufactured to place Steve in front of him, on a silver platter. He's taken by such surprise, thought for sure he wouldn't really meet the star of the evening until later, in private, and yet here he is. So naturally, every single word Eddie could have said seems to evade him.

For someone who is supposedly so good with words, Eddie feels anything but.

He does finally manage a breathy Yes and a curt nod, but only after a surreptitious nudge from Jeff to his right. Of course now that all eyes are on him, Eddie has no idea what he's supposed to do, and he feels like an idiot for the way his eyes seem glued on Steve, not on his body, but on his eyes. Like he could compose a song right here and there.

But he's not supposed to be Eddie the songwriter right now, he's supposed to be The Duke, so he waits for a cue from Steve. Yet all that while, the dumbstruck look never leaves his face. ]