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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

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the band with no name {Douglas Booth} 2

A/N: 1654 words. A bit shorter, but we’re getting into things now. idk how i feel about it, please give me feedback.

[PART 1]

Flop of The Month, your band, has an instagram account with exactly two posts on it, and Douglas feels like both and idiot, and a creepy stalker, for the amount of time he spends flicking through the two photos without actually liking them, for fear of you realising who he was.

Colson, however, seemed to have no such reservations.

“Look, I’m on their story,” Colson’s grinning from ear to ear as the cast and crew break for lunch the Monday after they’d seen your band play, showing Douglas his phone, and your band’s instagram story. It showed their notifications, highlighting how Colson had liked both photos and followed them, and had the caption ‘how’d the rap devil find us?’ and ‘not complaining tho’.

“Bloody hell,” is all Douglas can bring himself to say, wearing a half-smile as they made their way to the costume department to get changed before lunch. It had been a low effort day, just jeans and t-shirts, but it was always safer to not eat in costume. Hair and makeup could stay and be touched up however.

Your band’s page had begun the day with 217 followers, and ended it with over a thousand. There wasn’t a link to your personal page, and so all he can do is scroll through your Facebook while waiting for Colson to be ready to go.

Y/N: weird question Y/N: also, hi Y/N: but yeh, weird question Y/N: was your friend last night mgk?

Douglas takes a moment to compose his thoughts before typing out his response.

Douglas: hi back Douglas: and yes.

There’s a few minutes of silence, and Douglas can feel his scalp itching beneath his wig, just a little, but he tries to ignore it.

Y/N: cool. Y/N: well it was nice meeting you guys!! Y/N: looking forward to seeing if ur band is real btw Douglas: probably wont be for a while Y/N: im happy to wait Y/N: if u want me there that is Douglas: if we ever actually play a gig, you’ll be the first to know

You send a blushing smiling emoji back, and Douglas finds himself strangely pleased.

“Is that her?” Colson asks, eyes shining as he pulled on his leather jacket; with his wig and makeup, he still absolutely looked the part. Douglas quickly slipped his phone in his pocket, knowing that a faint blush dusted his cheeks despite his best efforts. As he waffled his way through an affirmation, Colson’s smile just grew wider.

“I still don’t understand why you were being so vague; she probably would have jumped you there and then if she knew you were part of the Motley Crue movie, man.”

“Yeah,” Douglas said, his discomfort mounting at the insinuation, “that’s the problem, dude; first of all, I don’t know if she like the band themselves, or just the music, and if she does like the band,” he paused, shrugging a little, quietly embarrassed, “what if she likes them better than me?”

“They’re all married,” Colson says, like it immediately solves everything.

“Man, you know that’s not the issue,” Douglas sighed, but it’s clear he wasn’t done, and Colson just waited, eyebrows raised, “you know, girls who are like... like... how did you say it the other week? When that girl from Instagram was in your DMs every other minute?”

“Clout chasing,” Colson nodded sagely, suddenly understanding all too clearly his co-star’s apparent fears, “well she doesn’t know who you are yet.”

“Exactly,” Douglas exclaimed, glad the craft services tent was finally in view, feeling himself grow hungrier by the moment, “and I think I wanna keep it that way, just for now.”

“Better pray she doesn’t watch Jupiter Ascending,” Colson snorts, just as Douglas punches him in the arm.

The next day, he messages you first, sends a photo of himself and the rest of the band out of costume, but holding their instruments, all wearing heels to help make it easier to wear them around set.

Douglas: the band says hi Y/N: shit, you guys have instruments and everything Y/N: getting less sketchy by the minute

You follow it up with a winking emoji, and a photo of yourself, out in the sunshine, dressed impeccably, makeup dark and sharp, holding a stack of posters beside your head, advertising your band’s next gig; this Saturday.

Douglas: are you inviting me? Y/N: only if you’re saying yes

Your confident coyness amuses him, despite the way the shoes are pinching his toes, and he tells you he’ll be there.

The next day, you send a link to a band name generator, but more interestingly, you send it right around the time he’s getting his makeup done, early in the morning.

Douglas: early start? Y/N: my shop won’t open itself Douglas: your shop? Y/N: mini mall tattoo parlor hahaha

“She owns a tattoo parlor?” Daniel asks, reading over Douglas’s shoulder between takes, “you’d better make your move or Colson’s gonna go for her.”

“Go for who?” Colson himself calls across set where his makeup’s being touched up.

“You weren’t meant to hear that!” Daniel shouts back, though he’s grinning, and adds, “Y/N. She owns a tattoo parlor.”

“Really, shit man, Doug she’s cool as hell,” Colson muses, before snorting, addressing Daniel, “gimme some credit, I’m letting the man shoot his shot; he’s my bro, not my competition.”

“Thanks man,” with the slightest smile, Douglas puts his phone away as the scene is reset around them, and Colson joins him in the middle of the living room set.

“I expect free tattoos, however,” he says with a faux seriousness, “because if you like her, like really like her, I’m gonna wingman the shit out of you.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, man,” he claps Douglas on the shoulder with a surprisingly sincere expression.

It’s Colson who suggests, the following day, sending a video of Douglas playing the bass, asking if you had any pointers. They’re at band rehearsals again, blasting through their repertoire, when they get to Take Me To The Top, and as the song dies down, Colson makes the suggestion.

“Why are you filming it?” Iwan asks, and Colson’s smile is all teeth where he’s holding Douglas’s phone, answering before Douglas has the opportunity.

“Tryna help impress that punk chick from the band last weekend.”

“You’re actually talking to her?” Iwan asks with a bright, almost incredulous smile, “after everything that happened? She must really like you.” He muses, and Douglas feels his soul leaving this mortal plane.

“Smart move; asking for advice from her, lets her know you think she’s talented, and, well, you know,” Daniel shrugs, wiggling his fingers with a casual air. Douglas frowns, but Colson’s nodding.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” he agrees, and finally Douglas clues in. Dexterous fingers.

“Don’t be gross, guys,” he sighs, already regretting letting Colson help at all, “just take the damn video.”

It only takes thirty seconds for you to respond in All Caps.

Y/N: ARE YOU IN A MOTLEY CRUE COVER BAND

“I’m fucked,” Douglas mutters under his breath, staring wide-eyed at the message.

Y/N: you play so well dude just relax your stance and shoulders Y/N: fkn love take me to the top Y/N: seriously a motley cover band??? Y/N: you just instantly got 100x cooler

“Okay, maybe I’m not fucked,” he concedes after a moment, quietly breathing a sigh of relief.

Y/N: now i have to see u guys play!! Y/N: if that’s alright of course

“Nah, you’re definitely a little bit fucked,” Daniel offers over his shoulder, and Douglas pushes his face away.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Douglas grumbles, and Daniel shrugs bemusedly.

“At least she thinks you play well,” but Douglas isn’t listening to him, he’s frantically tapping away on his phones, scowling, “what ‘re you doing?”

“Trying to come up with a name for our band -”

“Our fake band?” Iwan asks, arms crossed over his chest wearing an amused little smile, “do we have to play along with this too?”

“Not if you don’t want, just don’t... don’t tell her it’s fake is all.” Douglas offers, and the rest of the band nods.

“So how long are you going to play along with this bit?” Daniel ask, and Douglas heaves a sigh.

“Not sure; until I can trust that she’s not just in it to meet the actual band -”

“Which she doesn’t know you know,” Iwan interjected again, and Douglas nodded a little. After a beat, the rest of the band looked to each other, and seemed to share some sort of silent communication, before turning back to him.

“Okay,” Colson agrees easily, “if you’re serious about this chick you’ve known for five days,” he emphasizes, though Douglas doesn’t seem phased, “if we ever run into her, we’ll pretend we’re in a Motley Crue cover band.” He agrees, while Iwan and Daniel silently agree, though they look rather amused at the whole situation.

“There’s just something about her,” Douglas muses quietly.

“It’s the fact that she’s the coolest chick you’ve ever met,” Colson tells him with far too much authority, “and your little posh, school-boy brain wants to try something new.”

“Hey -” Douglas scoffed, though he was quickly talked over.

“She looks like she’d punch me in the face but I’d be okay with it,” Iwan adds, which, strangely enough, the rest of them agree to with various mischievous smiles. Douglas doesn’t exactly deny that he feels the same way.

“What’s our band name gonna be?” Daniel asks finally.

“The Fourskins,” Colson answers back immediately, grinning wide and proud of himself.

“Absolutely no-”

“That’s kind of genius,” Daniel snorts over Douglas’ protest, and so, on a three-to-one vote, their fake Motley Crue cover band is named The Fourskins, and Douglas kind of thinks he’d rather come clean there and then to you, rather than suffer through ever typing or saying that name to you. But he doesn’t.

He really hopes you’re worth it.

#Douglas Booth #douglas booth x reader #douglas booth imagine #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly #daniel webber #iwan rheon #The Dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the dirt imagine #the angry lizard writes

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