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Who put out the trash?
Dec. 18th, 2021 03:58 pmIt was time.
Ulrik's trashy older brother, Sven, was now getting off the plane at LA airport and embracing his baby brother in a drunken hug. Oh god. The older blond reeked of booze and was drunk, having no doubt filled himself with in flight booze, of course he had. Laughing, Ulrik patted Sven on the back and then pulled his bleached blond hair in a playful manner because it had been what? A few months since he saw his brother since starting the LA tour with Blixt and the other bands. Sigurd was standing next to Ulrik and took in Sven's appearance; drunk, wearing tight black leather pants, a black jacket with tears in the seams and bright neon boots made with fake crocodile and a red bandanna across his head. Of course. What trash. The all spoke in their mother tongue as they greeted each other.
"Det är kul att se dig igen, broder. (It's good to see you again, brother.)"
Sven reached into his jacket and pulled out a bottle of booze, which was whiskey by the looks of it. Had he bought that on the plane? Fuck knew. Ulrik rolled his eyes because he knew all about the trashy singer's habits with booze and they weren't the best. Bjorn was back at the Strip spending time with his ginger since he was spending more and more time with Rekker. Both Ulrik and Sigurd thought it was the best thing for their band leader. Lars was out somewhere following poor Devon around but everyone thought it was cute.
"Flygflyget var så jävla tråkigt! Vi går till en klubb och kör åt helvete. (The plane flight was so fucking boring! Let's go to a club right now and get fucked.)"
Sigurd just stared at Sven and sighed. Oh great----another Bjorn. This wouldn't end well because Sven looked trashy as hell and was drunk just getting off the plane. Now he wanted to hit the town and get smashed even before checking into the hotel. Did the man even bring stuff with him? Clothes? Possessions? Sigurd couldn't see any.
"Var är alla dina kläder, Sven? Har du glömt att ta med dem? (Where are all your clothes, Sven? Did you forget to bring them?)"
The singer shot Sigurd an amused smirk as he took a few quick swigs of booze before shoving the bottle back into his jacket. This guy was the bassist and he knew all about him from what Ulrik had told him. The band dad. That was just the cutest!
"Hej, pappa pojke! Ta det lugnt. Jag behöver inte ta med skit eftersom jag bara köper nya kläder här i L.A. Fan, ja. (Hey, daddy boy! Chill the fuck out. I don't need to bring shit since I'll just buy new clothes here in LA. Fuck yeah.)"
At those words, Sigurd just pinched his nose slightly because this guy was so much like Bjorn, except Bjorn would actually bring all of his shit with him. Every last can of hairspray. So would Lars if he were travelling to another country. Fuck, this guy was trashy and reckless too. Ulrik just giggled at his band mate's reaction to his trashy brother as they began their walk towards the taxis. Getting back to the hotel was the first port of call for all of them. Sven needed to check into his room. The singer adjusted his bandanna as they hailed a taxi down and jumped inside, Sigured paying the man in advance just in case Sven spilled any booze inside the taxi. Shit with rock stars often happened.
"Hur många heta pojkar reser med dig då? Ulrik har berättat om några. (So, how many hot boys are travelling with you then? Ulrik's told me about a few.)"
Oh god. Here we go. Ulrik just blushed a deep red at Sven's words regarding all the hot boys travelling on the tour. What was he to say? There were so many and so many were taken. Almost all of them except a few on the fence or not quite making the connections yet. Sven was trash so this would be more than awkward because he was the type of boy to hit on a taken man. His type being feminine boys and soft masculine.
"Fler tas, broder. Jag sa, minns du? Men det finns några som är singlar. Alla är heta och mest som andra pojkar utom den udda en eller två som är hetero.(Most are taken, brother. I did say, remember? But there are some who are single. All are hot and most like other boys except the odd one or two who are straight.)"
Ulrik trying to tell his brother this in the best possible way. Sigurd just staying out of the conversation entirely because he had his mind set on the bratty Dane. Mikkel. Oh fuck---what if Sven hit on him? There would be hell to pay. Or if Mikkel hit on Sven? Shit. Sigurd didn't even want to think about that. At all. It hurt. The taxi soon pulled into the hotel carpark as all three rock stars got out and headed into the hotel. Sven soon checked in and headed towards the bar instantly. He was fucking thirsty! Sigurd and Ulrik following to keep him company.
"We use English here because there are others staying from the UK. It's a bit easier that way."
Sigurd telling Sven just so that he knew if the Brits were around at the bar. Once they got there a few of the rock stars were there drinking and talking. No smashed ones yet since it was still only 10.00am. Even too early for Joe or Aarne to be smashed. Bjorn was no doubt back at Rekker's Hills mansion and Lars outdoors somewhere with Devon. A young dark-haired boy carrying a sketchpad came up to greet the new tall blond.
"Hello there! You're new. Are you related to Bjorn? You look similar."
Sven giggling rather girlishly, even though he was quite masculine in height and stature. The clothing and hair giving off his feminine air. Pinching the young guitarist's cheek, he smirked. Oh, this one was cute! There was also a blond haired man who wore leopard print too. He was fucking hot! Was he taken? So what if he was---Sven wanted to meet everyone! Ulrik had to intervene before people got angry for his brother hitting on everyone.
"This is Erik Ivarsson and him over there is Hunter, his older brother. Both are taken, Sven. You'll have to look elsewhere."
The singer huffed and then ruffled up Erik's hair before going to the bar and offering up Hunter a wink. The younger Swede just stared and then began giggling himself because it was amusing. Buying himself a large bottle of whiskey, Sven then began chugging straight out of the bottle because fuck! He was thirsty. The plane ride really had taken it out of him. Sigurd was watching Sven like a hawk now because this one was dynamite. Trouble. He might even start a fight if he hit on everyone who was taken. Ulrik knew he'd have to step in but he couldn't be everywhere Sven was at all times. It would be hard but they'd have to try and do their best.
Otherwise it could be a shit show.
Ulrik's trashy older brother, Sven, was now getting off the plane at LA airport and embracing his baby brother in a drunken hug. Oh god. The older blond reeked of booze and was drunk, having no doubt filled himself with in flight booze, of course he had. Laughing, Ulrik patted Sven on the back and then pulled his bleached blond hair in a playful manner because it had been what? A few months since he saw his brother since starting the LA tour with Blixt and the other bands. Sigurd was standing next to Ulrik and took in Sven's appearance; drunk, wearing tight black leather pants, a black jacket with tears in the seams and bright neon boots made with fake crocodile and a red bandanna across his head. Of course. What trash. The all spoke in their mother tongue as they greeted each other.
"Det är kul att se dig igen, broder. (It's good to see you again, brother.)"
Sven reached into his jacket and pulled out a bottle of booze, which was whiskey by the looks of it. Had he bought that on the plane? Fuck knew. Ulrik rolled his eyes because he knew all about the trashy singer's habits with booze and they weren't the best. Bjorn was back at the Strip spending time with his ginger since he was spending more and more time with Rekker. Both Ulrik and Sigurd thought it was the best thing for their band leader. Lars was out somewhere following poor Devon around but everyone thought it was cute.
"Flygflyget var så jävla tråkigt! Vi går till en klubb och kör åt helvete. (The plane flight was so fucking boring! Let's go to a club right now and get fucked.)"
Sigurd just stared at Sven and sighed. Oh great----another Bjorn. This wouldn't end well because Sven looked trashy as hell and was drunk just getting off the plane. Now he wanted to hit the town and get smashed even before checking into the hotel. Did the man even bring stuff with him? Clothes? Possessions? Sigurd couldn't see any.
"Var är alla dina kläder, Sven? Har du glömt att ta med dem? (Where are all your clothes, Sven? Did you forget to bring them?)"
The singer shot Sigurd an amused smirk as he took a few quick swigs of booze before shoving the bottle back into his jacket. This guy was the bassist and he knew all about him from what Ulrik had told him. The band dad. That was just the cutest!
"Hej, pappa pojke! Ta det lugnt. Jag behöver inte ta med skit eftersom jag bara köper nya kläder här i L.A. Fan, ja. (Hey, daddy boy! Chill the fuck out. I don't need to bring shit since I'll just buy new clothes here in LA. Fuck yeah.)"
At those words, Sigurd just pinched his nose slightly because this guy was so much like Bjorn, except Bjorn would actually bring all of his shit with him. Every last can of hairspray. So would Lars if he were travelling to another country. Fuck, this guy was trashy and reckless too. Ulrik just giggled at his band mate's reaction to his trashy brother as they began their walk towards the taxis. Getting back to the hotel was the first port of call for all of them. Sven needed to check into his room. The singer adjusted his bandanna as they hailed a taxi down and jumped inside, Sigured paying the man in advance just in case Sven spilled any booze inside the taxi. Shit with rock stars often happened.
"Hur många heta pojkar reser med dig då? Ulrik har berättat om några. (So, how many hot boys are travelling with you then? Ulrik's told me about a few.)"
Oh god. Here we go. Ulrik just blushed a deep red at Sven's words regarding all the hot boys travelling on the tour. What was he to say? There were so many and so many were taken. Almost all of them except a few on the fence or not quite making the connections yet. Sven was trash so this would be more than awkward because he was the type of boy to hit on a taken man. His type being feminine boys and soft masculine.
"Fler tas, broder. Jag sa, minns du? Men det finns några som är singlar. Alla är heta och mest som andra pojkar utom den udda en eller två som är hetero.(Most are taken, brother. I did say, remember? But there are some who are single. All are hot and most like other boys except the odd one or two who are straight.)"
Ulrik trying to tell his brother this in the best possible way. Sigurd just staying out of the conversation entirely because he had his mind set on the bratty Dane. Mikkel. Oh fuck---what if Sven hit on him? There would be hell to pay. Or if Mikkel hit on Sven? Shit. Sigurd didn't even want to think about that. At all. It hurt. The taxi soon pulled into the hotel carpark as all three rock stars got out and headed into the hotel. Sven soon checked in and headed towards the bar instantly. He was fucking thirsty! Sigurd and Ulrik following to keep him company.
"We use English here because there are others staying from the UK. It's a bit easier that way."
Sigurd telling Sven just so that he knew if the Brits were around at the bar. Once they got there a few of the rock stars were there drinking and talking. No smashed ones yet since it was still only 10.00am. Even too early for Joe or Aarne to be smashed. Bjorn was no doubt back at Rekker's Hills mansion and Lars outdoors somewhere with Devon. A young dark-haired boy carrying a sketchpad came up to greet the new tall blond.
"Hello there! You're new. Are you related to Bjorn? You look similar."
Sven giggling rather girlishly, even though he was quite masculine in height and stature. The clothing and hair giving off his feminine air. Pinching the young guitarist's cheek, he smirked. Oh, this one was cute! There was also a blond haired man who wore leopard print too. He was fucking hot! Was he taken? So what if he was---Sven wanted to meet everyone! Ulrik had to intervene before people got angry for his brother hitting on everyone.
"This is Erik Ivarsson and him over there is Hunter, his older brother. Both are taken, Sven. You'll have to look elsewhere."
The singer huffed and then ruffled up Erik's hair before going to the bar and offering up Hunter a wink. The younger Swede just stared and then began giggling himself because it was amusing. Buying himself a large bottle of whiskey, Sven then began chugging straight out of the bottle because fuck! He was thirsty. The plane ride really had taken it out of him. Sigurd was watching Sven like a hawk now because this one was dynamite. Trouble. He might even start a fight if he hit on everyone who was taken. Ulrik knew he'd have to step in but he couldn't be everywhere Sven was at all times. It would be hard but they'd have to try and do their best.
Otherwise it could be a shit show.