freakyyagami
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Summary
"Promise me, Mihael, if we get separated, we'll find each other no matter what," I whispered, idly grazing the strings of my guitar.
"If I can't find you, then you'll have to become a freaking rockstar and be on every music channel, so there's no way I don't find you, Mail," Mihael replied, and I knew that behind the apparent joke, there was a promise.
I didn't need to see his face to know he was dead serious. I just wish it hadn't been a prediction of our future...
UPDATED EVERY FRIDAY
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"You know him?" Thanos asks as he tries to think of his own lyrics to go with the track that's still playing. "He produce for real, or is this a favor type thing?" Doesn't matter either way. Thanos has got a damn gift when it comes to getting people to do shit for him.
"That's the thing," Semi groans with a downright strange amount of frustration. "The guy's name is Namgyu, I'm pretty sure, and he's a composer. Like, the classical stuff at the beginning, that was his."
Thanos nods, even though he doesn't really get why she's saying this shit like she's reading him a prison sentence ending in the electric chair. "Soo...?" He asks slowly. "If he made that, he can definitely do the producing shit, too. It's just a different genre." It's true. As long as he's got an ear for what's good, and knows how to work the fancy ass machines, then Thanos should be solid.
"Well, the issue is that he would never do it," she shrugs.
"He'd do it for me," Thanos waves off. It's not even cocky or some shit. All he's got to do is hook the guy up with girls or drugs or an oil change, and he should be fine. "Why wouldn't he?"
Or
How Thanos and Namgyu make an album together and maybe fall in love.