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Vanilla Dream

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Earth

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Earth is a part of Vanilla Dream.

5 Characters Here

Keiran Gregory [2] Kay, singer, bassist and pretty much anything else you need.
Stefan Volz [1] There no limits as to how far you can go and what you can do.
Kennedy "Kenzi" Phelps [1] Nothing can hold me back. Not death, not life, nothing.
Charlotte "Char" McKenzie [0] Hold me close and don't let go 'cause I don't know what I'd do if you left me.
Taggart Broderick [0] Who cares? Just do what feels good and deal with the rest later.

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Kenzi was mostly unaware at first, floating in a daze of black and warmth. He was so comfortable… why was he so comfortable? Last he remembered he had been up on stage with the band at his back, fans screaming – both new and old – the name of Vanilla Dream. He could still hear their voices in the back of his mind, pulsing and crying and singing out his name, and the names of his dearest friends. He still couldn’t believe that they had made it. They were really famous now… on their way… He felt like he was still on the stage…

No, no he didn’t. It had been hours since they had left the stage. Many hours. Almost too long. He wanted to be back up there, performing… but the concert was over now. He was crashed out on his bed, totally exhausted. At least, he had been. Now he had slept, he had some of his energy back.

Groaning quietly, Kenzi opened his eyes and sat up, staring around the living room of the apartment shared by the members of Vanilla Dream. He reached up, running his hands through the tousled strands of his blonde-and-black hair in confusion. Why was he in the living room, crashed out on the couch…?
Right. He’d never actually made it to his bed. He wondered if the others had made it much further than he had… He knew that he was still in his concert clothes, a black jacket trimmed with glistening black feathers and falling nearly to the floor, a black shirt and black jeans decorated with chains, high-heeled black boots… lots of black. But then, he looked good in black.

He pushed himself to his feet, straightening his jacket tiredly.
“Ugh…” he muttered. “What time…?” he glanced at the clock.

It was almost noon.

He sighed quietly. Time to wake up the other members.
On silent feet Kenzi headed down the hall to Tag’s room, knocking lightly on the door.

“Tag,” he called out in a voice only slightly less bright and peppy than usual. “Time to get up!”

~.~

Charlotte sniffed quietly and stirred, opening his eyes in a daze. For one heart-pounding moment, he didn’t know where he was…

And that heart-pounding moment did not end when he realized where he was. And that eh was entirely alone. Normally, he would have gone to sleep in one of the other members’ rooms. They all knew he hated being alone. He couldn’t understand why-

Oh. The concert. They had all crashed.

Swallowing tightly, Char tried to suppress the unreasonable fear that came up in him whenever he found himself in a room alone. He knew it was stupid. He knew there was nothing to be afraid of. That didn’t stop him from imagining that with every instant of solitude, his father was going to come crashing through that door…

He whimpered quietly and scrambled to his feet, dashing out of the room and into the hall. He staggered slightly, glancing around…
There was Kenzi. He let out a sigh of relief as Kenzi looked around, grinning.

“Morning, Char!” Kenzi laughed brightly. “Want to get Stef up for me?”

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Stefan could feel light coming to from what was a perfectly blank dream, as he could only assume. He cracked his eyes slightly open, groggy and tired still. He had no idea as to how much sleep he got per say, but as always, it wasn't enough as he closed his eyes. Several seconds passed, and a frown crossed his face as he opened his eyes again, uncomfortable from where he was positioned. It took a bit longer to adjust in order to keep his eyes open long enough to get up and go slump into his bed instead, but he finally recognized his surroundings. Apparently, his body was leaning against a flat surface. Well, a door, to be more accurate, just outside his room.

Slowly, what happened before he decided to just crash here in a sleep-deprived state, came to mind, and the exhilarating moments of being on a stage live with the band made his skin want to tingle. But, as much he'd like to reminisce, Stef much rather sleep some more. He pushed himself up, almost ready to just slid down and just try to sleep down there again. Taking a sigh after reaching for the handle of his door, only to realize that it was locked, adding more reason as why he slept here, specifically. Stef gave up on the matter of getting more sleep, seeing as the desire for it was fleeting fast.

".. My face feels uck."

His arms felt bare, so he at least knew that he was probably wearing one of his sleeveless shirts. This brought more trains of thought to be processed. Knowing that his appearance was not all acceptable, probably looking like he had just woke(though this was true), the fact sinking in immediately got him to finally motivated enough to move into a room with a mirror, as so to be rid of the horrid feeling of being unsightly.

Though as he began to move, he tripped. Apparently, he wasn't all that awake yet, and his body wasn't not ready to be cooperative, making a loud noise(thump!) as he fell in a clumsy manner. A sound similar to a wince was let out, and he cursed under his breath.

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#, as written by aesir
The first noise that emanated from Tag's room after Kenzi knocked on his door was a low moan of protest, followed by a heavy thump, presumably of someone falling out of bed. After a few muffled noises, a half-dressed punk girl opened the door and tip-toed outside, then froze when she saw Kenzi and Char. She offered the a look that was part starstruck and part pure embarrassment before taking the Walk of Shame out the front door. This was not exactly a rare occurrence, but usually Tag kicked them out of bed well before morning - the fact that she was leaving now was only a testament to how tired he had been last night.

A few moments and muffled complaints later, Tag shuffled to the door and leaned his head on the doorjamb. This time, he had actually bothered to put on some pants upon waking - it was not uncommon to catch him making breakfast in the buff (only ONCE had he tried making bacon), though not usually after a concert. Though his shoulders still twinkled from the glitter dropped on stage the night before, and his hair was lank from sweat and sleep, he could still pull off sexy in the morning, somehow. From his reclining position against the door frame, he leveled a smouldering gaze at Kenzi.

"Kenzi, babe, I'm hungry. Wanna make us some breakfast while I grab a showe--" That thought led to another, and he lifted his head and his voice clearly rung throughout apartment in the stillness of the morning. "I call the shower first!!" Hearing something in the hallway, he leaned forward, pulling his body close to Kenzi's and curving around him to sate his curiousity. He snickered, watching Stef faceplant nearby. "Smooth, buddy."

With that, he leaned back into his room, yanked a towel off the nearby peg, and brushed past Kenzi, shooting him a wink on his way out the door. Padding jauntily into the bathroom, he hung up the towel and turned the shower on, letting it warm up for a few minutes. He didn't bother closing or locking the door; since they were in an apartment, flushing the toilet had no effect on the shower, and all the boys had seen him naked already, so he didn't really care much if someone else came in.

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Char squeaked quietly, alarmed, as Stefan came tumbling face-first out of his room. As quickly as he had launched himself out of his own room, upon finding that he was entirely alone, Char scuttled over and crouched down next to Stef. He reached out, prodding the man lightly.

“Hey,” he called out softly, giving the guitarist a gentle shake. “Are you alright? Wake up!”

Kenzi was not bothered in the slightest by Tag’s early-morning mumblings. He smirked slightly as the drummer twisted himself around the doorframe – and Kenzi – to peer at Stef. Kenzi, too, turned to smile mildly down the hall at the befuddled guitarist.

"Smooth, buddy." Tag observed with snicker.

“Indeed,” Kenzi murmured, watching Char try to wake Stef up with a certain fondness. The playful little keyboardist was always worried about them, even when it was just silly to be worrying. Kenzi stood motionless, watching Char while Tag whirled around him, gathering his things and hurrying to the shower. Watching his members. He liked to do that sometimes. It was entertaining to see them chatter and wake up together. They were all so close… like brothers…

A couple minutes passed like that, and then Kenzi seemed to unfreeze, whirling and facing back down the hallway.
“Alright,” he called loudly. “I’m making pancakes. If anyone complains they can go hungry.”

He hurried down the hall to the kitchen, pausing outside Key’s door on the way and rapping hard on the wood.
“Oi!” he shouted. “Key, wake up! We’ve got an interview at noon!”
And at four and at eight… and another one at ten the next morning. Ah, the price of fame.

It was one that Kenzi was perfectly willing to pay.

He had just hit the kitchen, and was getting together the ingredients necessary for making pancakes, when the phone rang on the counter. He didn’t even look as he reached over and grabbed it – he lived here. He knew how far it was from the stove to the phone. Kenzi pressed the receiver between his cheek and his shoulder, cracking an egg with deft hands and tossing the shells aside.

“Hello?” he called evenly “This is Kenzi of Vanilla Dream?”

”It’s me,” the voice of their manager made Kenzi frown slightly in annoyance, but there was also amusement there, beneath the displeasure.

“I’ve already got them up and moving,” he told the manager calmly. “I just woke up myself. You should have been here to make sure we got into bed. I spent the night on the couch. What if I get stiff and can’t dance? What if I ruin one of our performances?”

The manager was silent for an instant, waiting to see if the overly-chatty morning Kenzi was finished. He was.

“Good morning to you, too,” the manager muttered.

Kenzi grinned.
“Manager says good morning!” he shouted back through the apartment.

“Morning!” Char called back eagerly, waving, though the manager could not possibly see through the phone.

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#, as written by aesir
A nice, hot shower always revitalized him so well. Tag was usually rather cheerful even in the most morose of situations, and mornings were no exception. But even so, there was something about a nice hot shower that lifted his spirits and made everything right again. He spent a good 10 minutes in there with the heat on full blast, turning the bathroom into a steam sauna. Sometimes Kenzi teased him about turning the bathroom into a scene from a horror movie, so that's when he started to write foreboding messages on the fogged mirror. Today was no exception. Whistling a happy tune, Tag stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist, and dripped his way over the mirror. He paused a moment, then scrawled in a creepy handwriting, "I KNOW WHAT U DID LAST SUMMER. CALL ME."

Pausing a moment to lean back and grin at his handiwork, he left the bathroom and moved down the hall, stepping over the still-prone Stef. He paused to lean down and plant a gentle kiss on Char's forehead; he knew the boy liked the attention. "Mornin', babe." Running his fingers through the keyboardist's hair, Tag shot him a grin before heading into the kitchen. Still dripping and toweled, Tag shifted right up behind Kenzi and rested his chin on his best friend's shoulder, peering down at breakfast. "Mmm, smells good. Who you talkin' to, Mr. Manager?" He rolled his eyes and made an obscene gesture at the phone. He didn't really have anything against their manager, it was just the man was a figure of authority, and deserved his disrespect. Actually, he appreciated the 'hands-off' approach the manager took with them, even though Kenzi sometimes complained that he wished the man was around more. Tag couldn't care less.

"What does he want, anyway?"

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It would seem like he blanked out for several seconds before he heard a remark over his slip and trip.

"Smooth, buddy." Stefan let out a small scoff as he head Tag make his remark, recognizing his voice. He would've sarcastically said 'thanks', but he didn't feel like raising his voice loud enough to hear. Feeling a nudge,"Hey," a voice softly called to him as he looked up groggily. "Are you alright? Wake up!" It was Char.

Feeling a body -- most likely Tag, seeing as he could hear Kenzi speaking from farther away, he didn't hear Key wake up yet, and he could still feel Char's presence nearby -- move over him, he pushed himself up. Stef quietly voiced, ".. Remind me to not to sleep on a floor. No matter much I may insist." He looked over to Char, and smiled one of his infamous odd smiles. He moved closer, leaving a small and slightly lingering eskimo kiss to the keyboardist's nose as his appreciation, before standing up to his full stature, mumbling what could heard as "thanks," as he didn't find making conversation more important then fixing up his appearance, and made his way towards the bathroom.

Ignoring the writing on the mirror, he tore off his clothes faster than he could he even bother to close the door, and then stepped into the shower, for what could've been one of the most quickest showers he had (15 minutes must've been a record), took a towel from a rack, and wrapped it his waist, as he finally stepped out the shower. That'll be enough for the guitarist.. for now. Whatever else they had in their schedules, he'll spend time on his appearance when it came. For now, he'd just go put on some clothes (once he found the damn key to his door of his room that had been mysteriously locked), and go eat something. He spotted a key that he picked up, and then finally opened his door. Stef tore through his closet and drawers to find something suitable. Changing his clothes at least 4 times a day was very normal for him, after all.

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He paused to lean down and plant a gentle kiss on Char's forehead; he knew the boy liked the attention. "Mornin', babe." Running his fingers through the keyboardist's hair, Tag shot him a grin before heading into the kitchen.

Char flushed slightly, smiling at the attention from Tag. He loved it when the band members paid attention to him. It made him feel appreciated, at least a little bit. Like he was worth something more than the cost of the clothes on his back. Granted, the price of those clothes was rapidly rising. But that didn’t really make him feel any better when he thought about himself that way.

A slight movement distracted him, and he turned around to find that Stef was on the move. Well… sort of… if dragging himself upright could really be called “on the move”.

".. Remind me to not to sleep on a floor. No matter much I may insist." He looked over to Char, and smiled one of his infamous odd smiles. He moved closer, leaving a small and slightly lingering eskimo kiss to the keyboardist's nose as his appreciation, before standing up to his full stature, mumbling what could heard as "thanks," as he didn't find making conversation more important then fixing up his appearance, and made his way towards the bathroom.

Char squeezed his eyes shut at the Eskimo kiss, laughing quietly. He opened them again when Stef pulled away, coming to his feet. Char sat on the floor, watching as the guitarist shuffled off to the bathroom, and smiled. Everyone seemed pretty happy, with the memory of their successful concert in the back of their mind.

He bounced up onto his feet and moved over to the last door that had not opened – Key. He raised his hand and rapped lightly on it, conscious that Kenzi had already done it. But it couldn’t hurt to just make sure that their bassist really was awake, and hadn’t just flopped back down again after Kenzi’s call.

“Key?” Char called out softly, pressing his ear against the door to see if he could hear movement from the room within. “Are you awake?”

~.~

Kenzi hardly twitched when Tag rested his chin on his shoulder, smiling slightly and flipping a pancake over in the pan. He was used to the drummer’s wayward flirting and blatant disrespect for anyone in the world who might want to lay down rules for the way he should live his life. Who couldn’t be, after living with him since high-school?

"Mmm, smells good. Who you talkin' to, Mr. Manager?" He rolled his eyes and made an obscene gesture at the phone. He didn't really have anything against their manager, it was just the man was a figure of authority, and deserved his disrespect. Actually, he appreciated the 'hands-off' approach the manager took with them, even though Kenzi sometimes complained that he wished the man was around more. Tag couldn't care less.

"What does he want, anyway?"


“He wants to make sure that I’ve got you all up and on the move,” Kenzi answered evenly, turning slightly and stirring a pot full of strawberries that sat next to the pancake pan. He liked to have fresh strawberry-sauce on his pancakes in the morning. So he always made a point of making it. He didn’t really care if the others liked it or not, which he was fairly sure they did. If they didn’t want it, they didn’t have to eat it, did they? “We’ve got four interviews in the next twenty-four hours. Well, two interviews and two variety shows. You never know what variety shows are going to throw at you…”

Kenzi sighed quietly. Variety shows… he was never really sure if he enjoyed them. They could be secret-revealing, competitive, romance-creating… anything the creators decided would make an amusing show. They were a pain in the butt, most of the time. Fun, but a pain in the butt.

“Is that Tag?” the manager asked. Kenzi nodded slightly, phone still scrunched between his ear and his shoulder.

“It’s Tag. Why?”

“Because I don’t want to talk to him.”

Kenzi gave an easy laugh. Tag’s disrespect for their manager got on the man’s nerves, and everyone knew it. The manager still adored Tag, just as he adored every member of Vanilla Dream. They just argued. Constantly.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you, Tag,” Kenzi observed evenly, then returned to the manager. “When’s the car coming to pick us up? And what should we wear?”

“Anything you want to wear, so long as it says Vanilla Dream. The car will be there around ten to take you to the filming station. They’ll do your make-up there.”

“Hey guys!” Kenzi shouted down the hall, sure that everyone would hear him. “Meeting over breakfast in fifteen minutes to decide our costumes!”

“Could you speak a little quieter, please? I’m still here, you know.”

Kenzi laughed.

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#, as written by aesir
Tag continued to roll his eyes and make faces at the phone while Kenzi chatted to the manager. At Kenzi's relayed message, he blinked, then stuck his tongue out and made a rude sound that was most likely loud enough to travel over the phone. Moving his attention away from the now-unimportant manager, Tag pulled away from Kenzi, leaned over and sniffed the strawberry sauce. It smelled nice, so he stuck a finger into it. "Ow!!" Yanking his finger out, he shook his hand briefly then stuck his finger in his mouth, mumbling around his burned digit. "Tha's hot. But mmmm yummy!" He gave Kenzi the thumbs up with his free hand, then turned to go get dressed.

As he padded back down towards his room, sucking on his singed (but tasty) finger, he heard Kenzi call out the meeting over breakfast. Groaning inwardly, Tag ran both hands through his wet hair. As much as he enjoyed playing for Vanilla Dream and as much as he did, in fact, secretly love the other members, he hated the whole 'co-ordinated outfits' thing. Most of the time they really didn't have much of a theme because they all liked the same kind of clothing anyway, but the thought of making an effort to look like a cohesive team rankled with Tag. He had never been part of a 'team', he was always the outcast, the observer, the one who didn't fit in. He'd grown up like that, and he'd kinda liked it. It meant he didn't have to answer to anyone; he did whatever the crap he wanted to do and to hell with anyone else. His life had always been like that - no one ever meant squat to him before. Well... no one but Kenzi.

Tag paused, his shirt halfway over his head, as his brain starting processing that thought. Even the idea that there was someone out there who was important to him didn't feel quite right. Of course Kenzi, Char, Stef and Key were vital to his survival at the moment, but did it go past that? As much as he wanted to tell himself it didn't, he knew that was a lie. He pulled his shirt down and grabbed a brush, straightening out the tangled mess of hair as his mind wandered. But Kenzi and the boys were different. Stef didn't give two shits what he did, and that kind of apathy was a welcome change from people who were always in your business. And Char just wanted someone - everyone - to love him, the poor kid; it was kinda hard not to feel affection for the little runt, anyway. But Kenzi... Kenzi was something else. Not only did the singer understand him - something no one else had been able (or willing) to do in all of his 21 years of life - but the boy accepted him. No matter what he did. Tag was used to gaining people's distrust and even their ire from the crazy shit and stupid stunts that he pulled. But Kenzi would just laugh, or sometimes even goad him on. A handful of times he'd even joined in!

Shaking his head roughly to clear his head, Tag realized he was staring himself down in the mirror in his room. "The fuck are you thinking about, you psycho?" He admonished himself. Those kinds of thoughts did not lead to a place he wanted to be. He was happy where he was, and he didn't want to risk changing that. Pushing himself to his feet, the drummer exited his room wearing a well-fitted pair of jeans and a printed t-shirt that hugged his body to the wonderful smell of pancakes. His stomach rumbled audibly at the mouth-watering scent, and he hurried into the kitchen to get some before they were all gone.

Plunking himself down in the first available spot, he'd be sure to grab himself a huge stack and pour some strawberry sauce over top of the whole thing before digging in with wild abandon. After five bites he finally remembered his 'manners', speaking around a face full of yummy dough, "Mmrf. 'Sgood pamakes, dude." He nodded vehemently at Kenzi, confirming his zeal for the delicious breakfast.

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It took a notably long time for Keiran to register the return of consciousness. Everything slowly resolved into shapes. The sharp rap from the door rung through Kay's uncertain thoughts. He didn't quite hear the voice that followed but his ragged brain finally assumed that it was time to wake. It took some time but he struggled off the soft mattress and sheets. He looked down to see he had merely collapsed atop his bed in pretty much full dress. Swinging his feet over the side he forced himself to stand. With more action came more awareness and he found it easy enough to arrange a fresh set of clothes. He recalled the madness of the concert the night before and the looming interviews facing the rising band today. Personally he wasn't keen on Vanilla Dream going big but everyone else wanted to and that was good enough for him.

Keiran was part way through changing out of glamorous stage set up when another knocked sounded at the door. He heard Char's voice and moved to allow entrance, pulling the door open while slipping a shirt over his arms. He smiled at his friends face. Despite the mess of back and purple hair, eye makeup and pale skin his grin was anything but discomforting. "Yeah, yeah." He gathered, slightly rushed "Sorry. Am I the last up?" He looked around to see if he could glimpse the others. At that moment he heard Kenzi's vibrant singing voice fill the house.

“Hey guys!” Kenzi shouted down the hall, sure that everyone would hear him. “Meeting over breakfast in fifteen minutes to decide our costumes!”

Keiran chuckled lightly, "I guess that answers my question." He roughly pushed out any wrinkles in the shirt. "Come on," he invited Charlotte, setting a hand on his friends arm "We need to be quick or you'll miss it." He headed down the corridor towards the scent of pancakes, all the while buttoning the black shirt and roughly removing wrinkles. "I'm pretty sure you'll all be famished from last night." Keiran had little intention of eating much, leaving for the others. They needed it more then him.

He entered the kitchen to Kenzi and a Tag intently focused on his food. "Morning guys." He announced, placing his arms affectionately on Tag's shoulders. "You're cooking?" He probed Kenzi, although he had no doubt that it was the lead singer's handiwork. Kenzi was always initiating things, ever since the earliest days of the band. Kay didn't mind, he would pretty much support Kenzi in all he did. Vanilla Dream were like the brothers he never had. He settled down at the table and considerably selected a single, medium size pancake. He took a bite and politely congratulated Kenzi on his work. "Brilliant as usual. Remind me that I have to learn how to make pancakes like you sometime." Kay hardly attempted making breakfast, he was usually a late riser even without the exhaustion of the previous day's concert. Often he would deal with dinner and/or lunch as well as all the dishes afterwards, saving someone else the hassle of having to do it.

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Charlotte squeaked slightly when the door opened unexpectedly, but his alarmed little bounce quickly became a happy little smile. Kay was awake, and that meant all of Vanilla Dream was on its feet again. He liked it best when everyone was awake and together.

He smiled at his friends face. Despite the mess of back and purple hair, eye makeup and pale skin his grin was anything but discomforting. "Yeah, yeah." He gathered, slightly rushed "Sorry. Am I the last up?" He looked around to see if he could glimpse the others. At that moment he heard Kenzi's vibrant singing voice fill the house.[/]

“Yeah,” Char answered brightly. “But it’s alright. Kenzi just finished breakfast, so it’ll still be warm!”

[i]"I guess that answers my question." He roughly pushed out any wrinkles in the shirt. "Come on," he invited Charlotte, setting a hand on his friends arm "We need to be quick or you'll miss it." He headed down the corridor towards the scent of pancakes, all the while buttoning the black shirt and roughly removing wrinkles. "I'm pretty sure you'll all be famished from last night."


Char followed Kay willingly, bouncing happily into the kitchen. He waved at the others before hurrying to a seat at the table, bouncing slightly as he gathered together a pancake and some strawberry sauce.

Plunking himself down in the first available spot, he'd be sure to grab himself a huge stack and pour some strawberry sauce over top of the whole thing before digging in with wild abandon. After five bites he finally remembered his 'manners', speaking around a face full of yummy dough, "Mmrf. 'Sgood pamakes, dude." He nodded vehemently at Kenzi, confirming his zeal for the delicious breakfast.

Kenzi chuckled easily, turning around with a pan of bacon and sausages in his hand. He began spooning them calmly onto an empty plate on the table, though his attention was focused on Tag.
“Don’t bother talking,” he told his friend, clearly amused. “You’ll choke and kill yourself, and then we’ll have no drummer. Where do you think that will leave us?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, looking up as Key and Char entered the room, Char skipping along behind the bassist with his eyes sparkling. Kenzi couldn’t help a grin at that. The boy was always so thrilled to be near the other members of the band.

"Morning guys." He announced, placing his arms affectionately on Tag's shoulders. "You're cooking?" He probed Kenzi, although he had no doubt that it was the lead singer's handiwork. Kenzi was always initiating things, ever since the earliest days of the band. Kay didn't mind, he would pretty much support Kenzi in all he did. Vanilla Dream were like the brothers he never had. He settled down at the table and considerably selected a single, medium size pancake. He took a bite and politely congratulated Kenzi on his work. "Brilliant as usual. Remind me that I have to learn how to make pancakes like you sometime."

“You’d never be able to pull it off,” Kenzi told him with sarcastic humor. “No one can cook like Kenzi.”
He looked down the hall, calling out.
“Stef, you coming? We’re going to start without you!”

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#, as written by aesir
Usually, Tag's concentration on his food was insurmountable; he had one of those metabolisms that constantly burned through anything he crammed into his gullet, so Tag was pretty much always hungry. As a result, he loved to eat, and often did so recklessly and with no attention given to anything outside of his little meal bubble. The exception, of course, was when he was with the band. He himself never thought about it, but when the boys were around he tended to be less focused on the food. That wasn't to say he still didn't enjoy the heck out of a good meal - and it certainly did not improve his horrendous table manners, either - but at least he would talk to his friends in between ravenous bites.

Kenzi chuckled easily, turning around with a pan of bacon and sausages in his hand. He began spooning them calmly onto an empty plate on the table, though his attention was focused on Tag.
“Don’t bother talking,” he told his friend, clearly amused. “You’ll choke and kill yourself, and then we’ll have no drummer. Where do you think that will leave us?”


Tag grinned at Kenzi's back, and - predictably not heeding the warning - mumbled around another mouthful of food, "Up shit's creek." There may have been more, but the siren song from the stack of succulence still sitting in front of him stole his scrutiny for a second.

He entered the kitchen to Kenzi and a Tag intently focused on his food. "Morning guys." He announced, placing his arms affectionately on Tag's shoulders. "You're cooking?"

The drummer looked up as Kay touched him, pausing to stare for a few moments. He'd forgotten about Kay during his little mental reverie a minute ago, hadn't he? That was probably just what the guy would want, though, knowing him. Kay was always shifting attention away from himself and deferring to his friends. If he didn't know the dude any better he would have thought it was annoying, but he knew the reason for it. So, instead, Tag had placed himself in the role of making sure Kay was always looked after. If the bassist wasn't going to do it himself, then someone had to! Tag told himself it was a completely selfish gesture - it would suck royally if their backup singer collapsed on stage or on a TV interview because his shirt was cutting off the circulation to his face but he was just too stubborn to say anything about it, wouldn't it? There, see? Completely selfish on Tag's part. Besides, he could out-stubborn anyone, any day of the week. He figured Kay might resent him for it, but he didn't care.

Tag picked up a few more pancakes from the already towering stack and plopped them onto Kay's plate. The stony glare that followed would brook no argument. 'Eat', it said. A quick glance to the centre of the table would verify there were more than enough to go around - Kenzi always made too much food (though Tag never complained about eating leftovers at 3 a.m. when he was unaccountably starving.) That taken care of, his attention returned to his giant stack of pancakes, which was disappearing at an alarming rate. There would need to be more, and soon.

“You’d never be able to pull it off,” Kenzi told him with sarcastic humor. “No one can cook like Kenzi.”

He leaned forward, reaching his arm over the table to grab a few pieces of bacon, popping one in his mouth, and handing the other to Char. He grinned at the boy around the bacon in his mouth, and poked the boy's nose with one of the fingers still covered in grease, coating Char's nose with a bit of fat. "He's right, y'know. Why do you think I let him do it all the time?" Waggling his eyebrows playfully at the keyboardist, he craned his neck back to check down the hall for Stef. That spill he took hadn't been that bad, had it? Nah, he's fine.

Helping himself to more pancakes, Tag voraciously stuffed his face a little longer. At the time, he didn't really spare any conscious thought towards it, but he was the happiest he'd ever been in his life with these guys.

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“Hey guys!” Kenzi shouted down the hall, sure that everyone would hear him. “Meeting over breakfast in fifteen minutes to decide our costumes!”

Stef quicken his pace as he knew that he taking much too long, even for a simple change of clothing. He glanced over some piles of clothing, pausing to think about just what to wear later on.. But then mentally slapped himself to get back onto his task.

Though it took a while, and to the final results made it look like the time and effort were to be a waste and unnecessary, he finally settled on a striped long sleeved shirt, much to his distaste, but it had been the only thing he found to match with the jeans he bothered to put on. Stef walked out of his room's doorway, cautiously so as to not trip again, though he slipped for a slight moment, making a sharp note of a squeak against the flooring. He must've been rather clumsy today. The guitarist regained his posture as he retracted his arms that flung out from reflex to sustain footing, and not to make of a fool of himself again. He stood silent for a moment, a small epiphany that he'd laugh about later, as he decided whether or not if that was a 'ninja' moment. But then he stopped his train of thought, seeing as how silly and odd it was.

"... I must stop watching crappy movies involving ninjas." He declared in a murmur, and then finally moved his way into the kitchen, the smell of pancakes and strawberries had been taunting him for the past ten minutes.

He smiled seeing all of the other members of the band in the kitchen. Naturally, as he smiled often. Kay had gotten up now, Tag was stuffing his face with food, and Char was eating as well. He glanced to Kenzi, and small mini moments with of the members when they were back in high school made his smile grow a little wider. They were all brought together by their beloved lead singer, of course, and although things came off as slightly shaky, they made it this far. It was most certainly a large accomplishment. He supposed that when those brought their minds to do it, they can accomplish practically anything, as whatever the saying would go. Noticing how everyone was already in the kitchen except for his now arrived presence, Stef felt somewhat awkward. ".. I must be the last one here. Sorry."

Stefan glanced towards the table of food that was currently being eaten. "Is there anything left for me?" He asked, though not really hungry, just as a common courtesy, not a character of little appetite. His facial expression of happiness was what he kept on as he reached for a drink in their refrigerator, before sitting himself down as well, gulping down whatever ridiculously sweet fruit juice container that he kept in there, but never bother to touch unless it was breakfast, or just really desperate for a liquid drink. The atmosphere was content, and it reflected on his face and smile too as he placed the empty container down. He reached for a piece of bacon.

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Kenzi smiled slightly as Stef made his way into the room, heading for the fridge to get a drink. Finally, all the members were here. It always took a little while to gather the others on the morning after a concert, and that had been a particularly long, strenuous concert. A hell of a lot of fun, of course, but completely exhausting. Only when Stef had finally appeared did Kenzi take a seat himself, and he did not reach for any food. It was a well-known fact that Kenzi could not eat when there was business to be taken care of. He flicked his head slightly, tossing back his half-bleached bangs, and set his elbows on the table, forming a pyramid with his fingertips.

“Alright,” he called the others’ attention to him, glancing around the table at them. Char looked up from his pancakes, eyes eager and bright. “So about our costumes… our manager sent out a survey to the fans a couple weeks ago asking what they’d like to see change about the band. The most common response was that they wanted to see more of the costumes we wore at our Halloween concert.”

He couldn’t help a small chuckle at that. Of course the costumes had been insane – it had been Halloween, after all. They’d had a lot of fun working them out, wearing them, and the fans had clearly liked them almost as much as the boys of Vanilla Dream had. Already, though Kenzi had only gotten the results a few minutes before on his phone, he was coming up with plans for future costumes. That was what he did – it only took him a few minutes to get this sort of thing together. Otherwise, he could never have brought the band so far so soon after graduation.

“I’m thinking about going with the long coat I wore for that concert. The one with the feather collar. I think we should all go as crazy as we can, just to piss the manager off. Anyone agree?”

Char giggled and raised his hand at that. He was a good kid, loved the manager. That didn’t mean that he had any objections to annoying the man.

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#, as written by aesir
Tag was just finishing up his second helping of pancakes when Kenzi finally joined them. He glanced up briefly as their singer started talking, and gave him at least part of his attention, but of course he didn't pause from wolfing down the last of his breakfast. He couldn't exactly let it get could now, could he?

The most common response was that they wanted to see more of the costumes we wore at our Halloween concert.”

At that, the drummer coughed on his last bite of food, hammering once on his chest with a fist to push the food down. 'Crazy' was perhaps a bit of an understatement when it came to those costumes. Some of them had been completely bat-shit bonkers. Granted, they all looked pretty kick-ass. Tag especially - or so he thought, anyway. The one thing that he remembered most about his costume, though, was that it was cold. He'd wanted to look sexy, so the bits that weren't completely bare were revealing and/or skin tight. He had indeed looked hot, but October evening concerts had not been incredibly fun wearing practically nothing.

Ruminating on that while he ran a finger through the last dregs of strawberry sauce on his plate, he figured it wouldn't be too difficult to add a few pieces here or there for warmth, and the costume would be fine in the warmer months. Sucking the strawberry sauce off his digit, he lifted his head and met Kenzi's gaze.

"Yeah, sure, why not? I may have to 'work out' again if I'm gonna wear that again, though." He smirked. Tag had never been to a gym in his life. What he meant was he was going to start playing games on their Wii again - that was physical movement, right? It certainly made him a lot less sedentary than he usually was on their time off. "You know I'm all for pissing that asshat off any time."

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Kay didn't resist the offering of additional food. He simply smiled and grudgingly began to eat. It wasn't that he wasn't hungry, they were all famished from the other day. He simply didn't want to claim someone else's. The pancakes were delicious, although Keiran settled for plain butter on his. The milk derivative melting lusciously into a slightly yellow goop. He smiled at Stefan as he entered, glad to have the whole group all together. If it wasn't for the interviews today they probably all would've remained joyously in dreamland. Certainly he would've remained abed unless he was roused. The young man polished off his batch of floury treats surprising quickly for someone reluctant as first. Although his good manners far exceeded those of Tag, which wasn't hard. When Kenzi started addressing the group he had his friend's full attention, with no distracting food.

Kay was alright with pretty much what the others decided and seeing as both Taggart and Char agreed it was pretty much unanimous. He agreed "I'm in." Although he wasn't really happy with annoying the manager, the man worked to keep the band afloat. Yet the other members of Vanilla Dream were his friends first and foremost. Personally he liked the Halloween costume. Most of all it was enjoyable to wear, he might tone it down slightly to keep the manager a bit happier. Poor man had to deal with the chaotic Tag and Kenzi, as well as being though of by all of them as merely the nameless 'manager'. He excused himself from the table and automatically set about organising and cleaning whatever Kenzi left out from his breakfast escapade. He would let the others have their showers first before he would set about cleaning himself up.

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Swallowing down the single piece of bacon he picked up, Stefan had given his attention to every word. His smile turned into an amused smirk halfway through, as he recalled their Halloween concert. He remembered it well since it had earned them a large profit, seeing as how popular it was. He'd also found a skull bead that day. It was safely placed in a glass jar, tucked away underneath his bed until he'd decide to move it somewhere else otherwise. However, it didn't surprise him really, that the group would be requested to wear more of the costumes they wore that day. The costumes were quite.. unique, for lack of a better word to describe them. It was to be expected to have a positive response. After all, he'd work about.. what, 2.. 3 hours on his costume and makeup? He forgot. But he frowned for split second, as he'd have to alter it slightly, for he never did like wearing the same thing twice. Stef kept in mind that he saw the costume being tossed somewhere under piles of clothes when he was furiously going through his room to just find this one shirt.

He raised his index finger with a lazy sort of way, in agreement. "Aye." His smirk had went back to being a smile, though still this amused gleam in his eye. Stef didn't really mind when it came to pissing off their manager. The poor soul had to deal with their slight craziness, which he believed that the guy should've expected it. Seeing as the others were in agreement to this, it would seem that he would have to continue dealing their shit. Pity. Stef briefly wondered about the facial expression that be shown when the manager sees them. It'd be funny. He'd have to go find a camera to take a picture.

Throwing his emptied container into the trash can nearby from where he sat, his head thrown back far enough to see it barely getting in by bouncing off the rim into the can's inner depths, then move his way back up. He eyed Kay excusing himself before glancing away. Stef looked towards Kenzi, a curious expression crossed his face now. "When does this interview start, exactly?" The guitarist would have to know just how long he'd have 'til they'd had to go and do what they do. Not that it stopped him from taking way too much time before.

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Kenzi had drifted off into the thought when Stef spoke to him. He was contemplating what he could add to and take away from his costume in the couple of hours they had before their bus would come to pick them up. The feathers that flowed down the back of his coat like a cloak would add a nice effect, when mixed with the streaks in his multicolored hair. Perhaps when he arrived at the interview he would make a few make-up suggestions to the artists...

He jumped slightly at the interruption, raising his eyes and an eyebrow along with them.

Stef looked towards Kenzi, a curious expression crossed his face now. "When does this interview start, exactly?"

"The interview itself starts around two," he answered. "But the bus will come at around 11:30 to pick us up. They've got to get our hair and make-up done, after all."

"Why can't we just do it?" Char asked. "We did it ourselves for years before they picked us up..."

Kenzi chuckled at that.
"Yes, but now we're famous, so we can't get our hands dirty doing our own hair. Silly Char."

Char blinked and frowned, not realize Kenzi was being sarcastic.
"Why...?"

Kenzi shook his head slightly and glanced around at the others.
"I'm going to take a shower," he called, swinging easily to his feet and starting off down the hall. "Anyone want to join me?" he tossed frivolously over his shoulder, and he was only half joking. He wasn't one to object when one of the band decided to share shower-time.

He headed into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door before he turned on the water and stripped, hopping under the hot stream.

Back at the kitchen table, Char glanced around at the others.
"Should I really wear my Halloween costume...?" he asked uncertainly. He thought it showed rather a lot of skin for an interview. And made him look remarkably feminine.

(Char's costume, for reference -
One in from the furthest right. )l

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#, as written by aesir
Tag was only half-listening to the boys as his mind wandered through different ideas on costumes and alterations. Something in the conversation between Stef and Kenzi sunk in, though, and he sat up as the rest of them started moving around.

"Wait... interview? We're wearing these costumes today? Aw, shit. I'd better get to work, then." He pushed himself from the table and ran both hands through his hair, trying to make a decision. Well, at least it would be warm indoors where the interview was taking place, right? He hoped so.

He caught Kenzi by the hip as the singer was leaving the room and gave it him a playful squeeze. "You know I would, babe, but if I did, neither of us would get clean." He shot the boy a devilish grin and lifted one eyebrow impishly before giving Kenzi a little whap on the behind to speed him on his way.

Leaning over, Tag snagged a stray sausage and stuffed it in his mouth, before affectionately tousling Char's hair. "Honestly? Wear whatever the hell you want, little dude. Though I thought you looked really hot in that thing." He tossed the last sentence over his shoulder as he headed off to his room, already envisioning a few of the alterations he could try to squeeze in before the bus arrived. First priority was sleeves - his arms had been frigid that whole damn night. Most of the material was black leather, but he didn't think he had much of that laying around. Then an idea hit him - he could use lycra! There was plenty of that, it would still look sexy, and it would at least keep some of the warmth in. Actually, he might even remove some of the leather and replace it with lycra. It would make the garment even more ridiculous and revealing, without turning him into a popsicle. Or, well, at least not until later. Depending on how the night went.

Grinning to himself and humming contentedly, Tag marched off to his room to get started. A few moments later his voice drifted into the hallway, "Who's got the sewing machine that does the um... the zigzag thing!?!" He waggled his fingers in the air to illustrate the point, though he didn't think anyone could actually see him.

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Kay busied himself with cleaning the dishes, relieving the table of its burdens as people began to leave. He didn't really get involved, allowing people to make their own choices without too much input from him. Eventually the kitchen emptied and all cutlery, ceramics and other utensils were restored to their rightful places. Seeing as Keiran was the one who did most of the cleaning around the place he ensured that everything was where the others wanted. Mostly that meant they dwelt in the dishwasher until there was enough dishes to justify using the machine. With the others already left while he was distracted Kay evacuates himself to his room. Almost at least, until Tag's voice drifted down the corridor and brought Keiran to a halt.
"Who's got the sewing machine that does the um... the zigzag thing!?!" Was Tag's not-so-plaintive cry, to which Kay had the answer. He called out in response, claiming himself as the culprit.
"That would be me" His voice rang clearly through the hallways as a recording studio. Perhaps it was just the gathering of people or perhaps the fact they were all musicians that caused the house to be full of noise and shouting. Kay didn't know and really he didn't mind. It was nice to be in constant contact with the others.Kay finished his announcement "Hold on a moment. I'll bring it through." He quickly dodged into his room, usually rather orderly the place was a bit of a mess and he had to displace a notable mess to recover the sewing machine stored in the back of his wardrobe. He hoisted the thing through to Tag's room. Looking about for a place to leave the mass. "What are you planning?" The bassist asked, "going to alter your Halloween costume?" Kay would have offered to help but he doubted that his sewing skill would be any better then his friend's.

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Stef had followed out after Kenzi left the kitchen, making a beeline to his bedroom quarters. As he navigated through the piles of clothes that were crowding his floor, to where he found the discarded outfit in which he had worn for their Halloween concert sprawled out on the side of his bed. He picked it up, and his eyes scanned over it, making mental notes as to where to fix, what to add and readjust, and how this was going to be in the end. He glanced towards his guitar in the corner. It was sleek and black, and matched best with this one, didn't it? The outfit was rather a good complement to the guitar itself.

There were no sleeves, as he had liked it, but he wasn't very tolerant of the cold. If so, he'd probably tackle another member for some body heat, whether they'd comply to it or not. As he noticed, it didn't really show off a lot of skin, and was rather modest looking and bland. The guitarist resolved to change its image. As he was putting it on, it was noticeably tighter and better fitting. It was probably a good thing. That being done, he got out some tall leather black boots, and some small belts, wrapping and latching them on around his pant legs and arms, in a sort of bondage oriented style. As he was getting out some old silk black scarves to tear and then add on to his outfit as he wore it, he could hear yelling outside his room as the door was still left open. Pausing for a few moments to just peak out to see what was the commotion before heading back in when it deemed nothing important, finding the noise to be comforting that the apartment wasn't silent. He began to take a needle and with one hand, attempt to sew a thin ripped strip of silk onto his arm's buckles. It was proving to be difficult, and painful, should he poke himself in the arm. It took him a good seven minutes to just get one on suitably.

Stef stared at his handiwork, and glanced over to the mirror, where he can see his reflection. Reflected back was him of course, much taller now in those boots, and much more intimidating than usual. It must've been all that black, and the fact that he wasn't really smiling at the moment. The silk didn't look at that bad. Adding more could help with the effect he was trying to achieve. Though he suspected that by the end of the day, the tightly added belt buckles around his arms and legs may as well cut off blood circulation, but fashion was always a bit a painful to good. The blonde set to finishing up the silk sewing. He'd move on to adding more accessories later.

(General idea of Stefan's outfit: Second one to the far right.)

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The morning rushed by faster than Kenzi thought he had ever seen a morning rush by. Usually they dragged along, while everyone was trying to work up the energy to get what they needed to get done done. Today, however, everyone was up, and everyone seemed to be relatively energized, working on their costumes with renewed fervor. It brought a smile to Kenzi's lips that stuck there no matter how hard he tried to remove it, to see the other members this in to their work. It was good to know he wasn't the only one completely thrilled by their constantly-growing success.

It didn't take him very long to put his costume together. It was already pretty much complete to begin with - he just needed to trim off one of the sleeves. He, personally, hated symmetry in his costumes. He much preferred the uniqueness of having everything mismatched, so long as it looked good on him.
The result of his handwork was a black leather coat that fell well past his knees, with a chain that looped down by his right leg, and a stand-up collar made of feathers that nicely framed his face and half-bleached hair. One sleeve was long, falling down to his wrist like any other sleeve, where it flared out in a sort of leather bell. The other was cut off at the shoulder, baring the lean muscles of his arm. On that bare arm, he wore a fingerless glove that rose up to his elbow.

He gave his collar one last fluff, straightened the legs of his flaring black, chained jeans, and headed out into the hallway to search for the others. He left his jacket unzipped – why wear such a nice, translucent gray shirt if no one was going to see it?

“Tag,” he called out easily. “Stef, Kay, Char! Our driver’s waiting for us!”

Char came bouncing out of the room beside him, dressed in his familiar costume, barely altered, except for the sheer veil he had added as a sort of cloak-sleeve to his right shoulder. It moved gently with every swing of his arm – Kenzi thought it looked rather cute on him.

“Ready!” Char laughed, throwing his arms in the air and causing the veil-sleeve to slip off and float against his back. Kenzi chuckled and reached out, ruffling up the boy’s already tousled hair.

“Good for you,” Kenzi grinned. “Wish the others could do it as quickly.”

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Stef had put the finishing touches on his costume, and though it was somewhat painful, he was able to do it. A sense of pride pitted itself in the bottom of his stomach, and he was only halfway through to putting on some extra things to make the costume have some extra flair when he heard Kenzi call out for the members to hurry up.
“Tag,” he called out easily. “Stef, Kay, Char! Our driver’s waiting for us!”

He had glanced towards the door in which the voice was coming from behind, and then looked back to his crrent task. Stef fastened on his leather boots, and looked at himself in the mirror one last time, eyes sharply going over every detail to ensure that he looked good. His tall stature was even taller now due to the influence and extra inches that his boots gave him, its buckles tightly wound around his legs. His other hand that he didn't use to play on his guitar, his left, was bare, save for several chain bracelets, was used to adjust several chains that hung loosely in a curve on his pants. His many tattoos were being shown off from his sleeveless arms, bare skin was being covered up by buckles to match the rest of his outfit.

Already applying on a basic line of black eye liner, and complemented whether he should begin to dye his hair entirely black, being bored with the platinum blonde locks, the guitarist then made sure that his face was smiling still, seeing as whenever he wasn't, he had frightened several people. It was something that he didn't quite understand, but he kept the wry grin on his face nevertheless.

He grabbed onto his guitar case that he always kept in his room--no one was to be trusted afterall--, containing the instrument that he'd strum with as he sang incredibly horribly on occasions He slung on the straps onto his shoulder. His silver cross earring on one ear kept moving in sync with his actions, light hitting against his skin, standing out among the other piercings of which he had. A snake bite on his bottom lip as well felt as if it completed the entire thing. The chains and such drooping over his front chest swayed as he was walking around the small room that he slept in.

Stef headed out of his bedroom door with a slight strut, and was rather surprised to not see all of the members out in the hall. Was he early for once? Eyeing both Char and Kenzi both in costume already, and rather in fact, looking as good as they always did, he gave a look around for Tag and Key.

He propped up a brow with a slight bemused expression. ".. Don't tell me that I made it before Key and Tag, did I?"

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#, as written by aesir
Looking up briefly as Kay entered his room, Tag looked busy. He was usually the type to turn a simple task into a complicated one - needlessly multitasking was, ironically, one of his strengths. At the moment, he had the old Halloween outfit spread out on his bed. Surrounding it were several bits of dark purple lycra. He was hunched over his bed, sticking pins into the fabrics and pulling them together, marking where he needed to sew or tear stitches.

"Thanks, Kay. You can just stick it on the desk, there." He waved a hand in the general direction of the his small work desk, but when he spared it a quick glance he saw it was already covered with random junk and forgotten projects. "Oh, erm... here." Stepping in front of Kay, he swept an arm over the desk, pushing junk aside and causing a fair bit of it to topple over the other side, but at least it left a spot for the machine.

Moving back to kneel at the side of the bed, Tag's fingers deftly flew over fabric, pulling stitches out with his nails and readjusting the fabrics. "Yeah, just a few small alterations. I'm gonna add this stretchy crap. Whaddya think? It'll look hot, right?" He flashed the bassist a big, wolfish grin before returning his gaze to his work. "Thanks for bringing the machine thingy!"

It took him a little longer than he had anticipated, and he was just barely finishing up when he heard Kenzi yelling for them to get going. He had to admit, though, the idea had been a good one. He looked like some kind of sexy leather frankenstein. The outfit was a patchwork of black leather and purple lycra, seemingly randomly adorned with buckles, straps, and chains. The dark purple complimented the black, and was further enhanced by the purple eyeliner nail polish Tag had put on. There were a few missing or 'torn' areas of the outfit where skin peeked through; generally the parts of his body Tag didn't mind showing off - the right side of his abs, his left arm from the elbow down, and part of the left side of his back below his shoulder-blade. Both of the fabrics were skin tight and left little to the imagination. He knew it looked good, he just seriously hoped the studio was heated well.

Emerging from his room, Tag kicked the door shut behind him and walked quickly down the hall towards the other boys, casting a critical eye on their costumes and the alterations they'd done. "Hey, you guys look great! I like the changes." Smirking, he reached over and shook his hand about under Char's veil, causing it to drift playfully around the keyboardist's shoulder. He ran a hand through his hair idly, then paused and cursed colourfully. "I was going to dye my hair fuchsia! Crap. Oh, well. Maybe next time."

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Kay sheepishly set the sewing machine in place, looking with caution at Tag's vibrant future costume. It would certainly be a Tag sort of look. Keiran couldn't quite visualize Tag wearing it so he didn't know how his friend would look so he settled for a simple agreement "Yeah, it'll suit you." Now, with his service complete he left the room, aware that time was dwindling for him to prepare. A quick check told him that the shower was free and he capitalized on the moment. Stripping and stepping inside. Unlike others he too the time to close the bathroom door behind him. It wasn't that he was self conscious, the were all men. More that he liked to enjoy his showers, taking his time and not getting interrupted. He also happened to like a temperature that steamed up any nearby windows. So he took his sweet time in the shower, luckily no one disturbed him.

As it was he didn't spend too long and after ensuring he didn't drip everywhere, set off to his room. With naught but a towel to conceal his dignity, not that his friends cared, he rifled through the barrage of clothes and costumes hung in his cupboard. Coming across the rather restrained costume from last Halloween. He usually was the least extreme of the group, although he had his days. Compared to the others his Halloween costume had been rather dull, with barely a belt, adornment and no ravishing off leather. He liked it, it was notably comfortable as well. However, under implied orders from Kenzi he knew that it couldn't be left the way it was and set about making his own alterations to the cloth.

He was busy lost in his finery when he heard the Kenzi's shout from outside. He cursed lightly and rushed the last few stitches and donned the new and improved top. He already wearing the flared trousers that completed the set. Checking that his needlework held he sped down the empty hall and through the door, nearly crashing into the others waiting for him. Immediately he set about apologizing for his tardiness.

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Kenzi grinned easily as the others came rocketing down the hall to join them. One by one, Vanilla Dream collected in the living space of their dorm. It was hard to believe that little more than an hour ago, they had all been groggy and sleep-deprived and stiff after a night spent - for most of them - sprawled across various places which were not their beds. Now, dressed up in costumes that were, for many, more holes than clothes, with their hair done up and their make-up on, they looked exactly the way their fans expected them to.
Insane. But in a good way.

"Everyone ready?" Kenzi asked, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. He didn't really need to ask - he knew they all were.

"Ready!" Char agreed happily, bouncing and setting his flowing sleeve swaying about him once more. Kenzi chuckled and shook his head.

"Then come along," he called, turning and heading down the hallway. He unlocked the door, opened it, but he paused before he walked through it to pick something up out of the corner. A cane, glistening black and just the right length for him, tipped with the ruby-eyed head of a dragon. Some called it silly, gaudy. Kenzi just thought it looked cool.
Besides, it was really helpful when he was tired and didn't really want to walk, but sort of had to for the sake of the band.

He didn't really need it today, but the fans expected to see it with him. It had been there since their first performance, and would be until their last.

Kenzi led Vanilla Dream down through the apartment building's hallways, to the elevator, pressing the ground-floor button before the others could even get in. If they missed it they would just have to ride on their own, wouldn't they?

Char giggled happily and grabbed on to Tag's arm, slipping his hand into the crook of his friend's elbow.
"I'm excited," he told Tag, knowing that the man could already tell.