Int. Dean Hart: 002 - Blog Posts

Madness. That was the only way to describe how it felt to be on stage and see everyone rushing around the large venue where the party was taking place. Briggs had froze in place upon the incredibly scary announcement, then had found a way to come down the stage. Not a lot of things were traumatic to Briggs but everything that involved the Melody Davis' case never failed to send him spiraling a bit, add all the substances in his body and the buzz that had been generated by his earlier interaction with Dean and that almost made him feel on edge. As he found himself right in front of the very same man, Briggs finally snapped out of it. "I--fuck, I think I do, I don't know." His eyes focused on Dean's as he placed his hands on the other's shoulders, trying to center himself. "Okay. Let's go. But you need to breathe, I can't carry you anywhere, you have to properly function, Dean." He began pulling him backstage, clearly on a mission.

"Mmh, takes a lot more than a pretty voice to get my underwear off. Nice try, though -- I'm sure I can borrow a pair from one of your little groupies though?" Dean grinned smugly, swaying slightly as his balance began to betray him. "Dunno. Considering I had a few drinks to get through it..." He mused, eyes flickering towards the bartender momentarily. "A few more wouldn't hurt, though. Might make the rest of your sets more bearable. What do you think?"

TIME SKIP

He was far too drunk for this -- well, even if he wasn't drunk, this would have sent him over the edge. He felt like vomiting, his skin on fire with abject panic that far superseded any anxiety that normally coursed through his veins like a fright train. So much so that he didn't have time to hold himself back as he spotted Briggs in the crowd, only having parted momentarily before everything went down. "Please tell me you know a fucking way out of here," Dean practically hissed, instinctively grabbing onto the sleeve of Brigg's shirt as he practically barreled into him. "I've got no cell service down here -- do you? Can you -- didn't you and your Nickelback cover band have to load in from somewhere? Oh god, I think we're running out of air down here..."

In order to survive a very long night of performing, Briggs had done what any great musician and front man of a band does; drugs. He was on cloud nine as the band performed their rendition of I Want You to Want Me at the end of their second set and thanked the crowd by blowing kisses and high fiving the DJ as she took over the stage for her set. He had already caught a glimpse of Dean from the stage, a few times. Maybe too many times. But that was almost normal when the other man was around. His smirk grew as Dean immediately approached him though, Briggs stepped closer to him an eyebrow raised. "Why so curious? You trying to figure out your next move or what?" He teased, his eyes moving up and down his figure as he let all the substances in his body take over like they normally did. "You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say you're enjoying the show."

where: fire & ice gala who: @briggster & dean hart

Shots. Apparently some liquid courage was the only thing that ever got Dean out of his own head and into the fire, so to speak. What did it say about him that he needed to be under the influence to loosen up a bit, to untense his shoulders and, generally, not devolve into a literal panic attack from the sheer amount of tackiness alone? Probably a lot, but he wasn't one to think too far into things. The crowd started cheering as the band finished up their set, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been eyeing the group -- and their front man -- from his place at the bar. Some liquid courage apparently went a decently long way, so the moment he saw Briggs descend the stage and head in his general direction, he found himself offering a smug grin. "Tell me, does getting pelted in the face with underwear make you want to give it your all? Does it help loosen those pipes?"