Yesterday was national kissing day, and I was talking about how it would have been a good excuse for a kiss meme, and how it seemed those kind of themed memes seemed to have died out a little
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Mikey/Gabe -- Projekt Gayhem 1/?jedusaurJuly 9 2011, 10:21:25 UTC
(note: general scene AU, no one's in a band)
Rule 1 of being a hipster: you do not acknowledge that you're a hipster.
There's an extraordinarily attractive, extraordinarily bored-looking guy leaning against the bar when Gabe heads back there for a drink between sets. Gabe nods to him, because he tries to make a habit of befriending anyone cute who likes the same music he does. The guy motionlessly observes him from the corner of his eye as Gabe talks to the bartender, then, after an approving glance at the PBR Gabe ordered, he nods back.
"Decent show so far," says Gabe. "Better than their last one. They've fixed the reverb problem, at least."
The guy shrugs. "Place is overrun with hipsters, though."
Gabe grins. "What gave me away, the trucker hat?"
The guy raises one eyebrow at him briefly and then looks the other way, effectively ending the conversation.
Rule 2 of being a hipster: you DO NOT acknowledge that you're a hipster.
The next time Gabe sees the guy, they're both at a party at Pete's house. Gabe spots him from across the room. He looks like he's holding court, except he's not actually saying anything. Everyone near him somehow seems to be paying attention to him anyway.
"You know who that is?" Gabe asks William. "The guy with his hair tucked under his earpieces?"
William looks, then snorts gracefully. William does everything gracefully. He probably shits gracefully, not that Gabe ever wants to actually find out. "That's Mikeyway," he says, like he's identifying Angelina Jolie or the president.
Gabe has never heard the name. "Is he someone I should know?"
William shrugs. "He's basically the king of the hipsters."
"Hey," Gabe jokes, "are you calling me a hipster? I resemble that remark!"
William gives him a long-suffering stare. Gabe wilts a little and files away the lesson more carefully this time.
Rule 3 of being a hipster: making eye contact during arguments about obscure bands is equivalent to tapping out.
"It's not about the music, man, it's about, like, the aesthetic."
Gabe doesn't even know this person, but he is staggeringly, epically wrong about everything. "Dude, listen to what you're saying," he protests. "You just told me that a band isn't about the music. How can you even live with yourself?" He leans forward, looking right into the guy's eyes. "They're a fucking band. Of course they're about the music. And their music fucking sucks."
The Person Who Is Wrong smirks, like he's won the argument. Gabe scowls at him, but apparently they're done talking now. Fucking unwritten rules of the scene.
(okay, it's after three in the morning and I need to go to sleep. But I've got the rest of the rules all written out, and I promise to finish this tomorrow!)
Rule 1 of being a hipster: you do not acknowledge that you're a hipster.
There's an extraordinarily attractive, extraordinarily bored-looking guy leaning against the bar when Gabe heads back there for a drink between sets. Gabe nods to him, because he tries to make a habit of befriending anyone cute who likes the same music he does. The guy motionlessly observes him from the corner of his eye as Gabe talks to the bartender, then, after an approving glance at the PBR Gabe ordered, he nods back.
"Decent show so far," says Gabe. "Better than their last one. They've fixed the reverb problem, at least."
The guy shrugs. "Place is overrun with hipsters, though."
Gabe grins. "What gave me away, the trucker hat?"
The guy raises one eyebrow at him briefly and then looks the other way, effectively ending the conversation.
Rule 2 of being a hipster: you DO NOT acknowledge that you're a hipster.
The next time Gabe sees the guy, they're both at a party at Pete's house. Gabe spots him from across the room. He looks like he's holding court, except he's not actually saying anything. Everyone near him somehow seems to be paying attention to him anyway.
"You know who that is?" Gabe asks William. "The guy with his hair tucked under his earpieces?"
William looks, then snorts gracefully. William does everything gracefully. He probably shits gracefully, not that Gabe ever wants to actually find out. "That's Mikeyway," he says, like he's identifying Angelina Jolie or the president.
Gabe has never heard the name. "Is he someone I should know?"
William shrugs. "He's basically the king of the hipsters."
"Hey," Gabe jokes, "are you calling me a hipster? I resemble that remark!"
William gives him a long-suffering stare. Gabe wilts a little and files away the lesson more carefully this time.
Rule 3 of being a hipster: making eye contact during arguments about obscure bands is equivalent to tapping out.
"It's not about the music, man, it's about, like, the aesthetic."
Gabe doesn't even know this person, but he is staggeringly, epically wrong about everything. "Dude, listen to what you're saying," he protests. "You just told me that a band isn't about the music. How can you even live with yourself?" He leans forward, looking right into the guy's eyes. "They're a fucking band. Of course they're about the music. And their music fucking sucks."
The Person Who Is Wrong smirks, like he's won the argument. Gabe scowls at him, but apparently they're done talking now. Fucking unwritten rules of the scene.
(okay, it's after three in the morning and I need to go to sleep. But I've got the rest of the rules all written out, and I promise to finish this tomorrow!)
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