Chapter Text
Keith was almost revolted at the throbbing beat pounding out of the headphone speakers. What had Allura just assigned to him?
Standing in a Metro train car, speeding down the rails, the eighteen-year-old boy couldn’t imagine that his unofficial boss had booked his band for this song. Keith was the proud founder of "The Paladins", a group that was famous for being able to mimic other artist’s songs. Not only were they a surprisingly talented cover band, but they were extra impressive because of their infamous special effects. Between their visual, audio and physical effects and the continually moving set pieces on their nearly completely robotic stage, they took pride in their abilities to wow a crowd with the visuals alone. And, on top of everything, they worked with a minuscule team.
That is, they used to have a minuscule team. Before Shiro had managed to set them up with a big-scale company, there were five permanent members of The Paladins.
There was him, of course, the founder, the main vocals and guitar player of the band. Shiro, his older half-brother, bass player, and the one who helped them not lose their sanity, along with all of their energy. Pidge, who was the drummer and rapper of the group (Keith wasn’t nearly as good with keeping up with all of the words so quickly), and the occasional vocals if they deemed necessary. Matt, Pidge’s big brother, and Shiro’s boyfriend, who was in charge of the effects during performances and generally tech stuff other times. And finally, there was Sam, father of the Holt siblings and overall manager of the band, and maybe also a tech wizard on the side.
The five of them, accompanied by the occasional electrician or architect to help make sure nobody was going to die while performing due to faulty equipment, were able to put on amazing performances and be able to live the dream of their ideal careers.
Of course, putting in 200% of their energy to building, testing, installing and practice everything for every performance was unbelievably draining. If they ever were given a moment off of work, then they were either sleeping or eating and nothing else. Keith, in particular, wasn’t able to exercise nearly as much or give much attention at all to his cat, Red.
They had all been recovering from a 48-hour work session when Shiro had brought up the idea of working for a bigger company. Nobody was all too eager to give up their freedoms as a band, but the bags under their eyes and trashcans full of coffee grounds and empty energy drink bottles left room for no arguments.
As it turned out, working for a big company had been a genius move on Shiro’s part. While it did expectedly take away some of their freedoms, it gave them so much more than completely outweighed the bad. Not only did they have more time to sleep and spend time for themselves, but they also need up with much more resources than before. Backup dancers or extras were provided for performances, people were there to do paperwork and send emails for them, and best yet, now Pidge, Matt and Sam didn’t have to construct everything on their own. The day they had shifted into the company’s domain, a large man named Hunk had introduced himself as an engineer and set construction worker, and he was now almost apart of the band himself. The Holts were able to click with Hunk immediately, and it certainly helped that he had brought a box of “Welcoming Pastries,” he had put it, that he made himself.
Keith was still amazed that Shiro had been able to hook them up with such amazing people to work with, but thank god for college. The owner of the company “Altean Entertainment” was run by Mr. Altean himself, and Shiro just happened to be college roommates and good friends with his daughter, Allura Altea. Allura was the oldest of the Altea children, so she was next in line to take over the company, and was more or less using The Paladins as a test run to see how managing worked. Her uncle, Coran, was her advisor, and the one who made sure she didn’t really screw anything up. However, as it turned out, Allura was an excellent manager and took care in her work, so he was really there at this point because the law demanded it.
But, for as good of a manager Allura was, Keith wasn’t sure what she was thinking when she booked his team for this performance. It was for a bachelorette party, where they were to perform what appeared to be a full-on concert of different artists for a presumably humungous crowd for the type of party. There were songs that they typically did, rock or alternate themed, mostly, one song Pidge would be doing, and that was about it. It was nothing too complicated, be it a few more songs than they usually played in one session, but certainly doable. It was at the very end of the playlist, however, that worried Keith the most. After an entire playlist of songs he was accustomed to, the final song was one titled “Bang Bang.”
Keith almost fell down when he first heard the song, despite the fact that the train was sitting at a complete stop. What was blasting into his ears was an upbeat pop song he used to hear play on popular radio stations, sang by Arianna Grande, Jessie J, and Nicki Minaj.
His band had never done any song like this before, even advertising that they weren’t a pop band and that it was one of the worst song genres somebody could pick for them. They had even gone as far as turning down the people who ignored the advertisment and still asked for pop songs, and this was the worst one he’d heard yet. So why, why did Allura ever agree to this?
Keith stepped out of the train car and into the busy train station, taking a long way around to avoid the overpopulated underground that is public transportation centers. A short, ten-minute walk later, and he was strolling into Altean Entertainment’s building, taking the only way he knew to The Paladin’s assigned workspace.
The building was a nice place to begin with; always clean, fully stocked with anything needed, everything in proper repair, but the work areas were really something else. Not only was Altean Entertainment interested in satisfaction of the customers, but they made sure their employees and business partners were well taken care of just as much. His workspace was really something of a dance studio, which helped with choreography, with a recording studio-like room in the corner to hear how vocals were doing, and to record audio effects in advance.
Keith was able to see the blobs and colors of Pidge and Shiro through the blurred glass doors to their area as he approached, letting out a sigh of contempt. Matt and Sam were most likely in the tech department already, seeing as Pidge always carpooled with them, so that left Keith as the last person there again. He would no doubt be getting a talking-to later from Shiro about showing up on time, but it was really only a few minutes, okay? And besides, he had gotten them all coffee, so they would just have to suck it up.
Gripping the cool metal handle, Keith pushed open the door with a smile, pulling his headphones down around his neck. “Pidge. Shiro. Good morning.”
Shiro’s eyes were drawn up to the boy’s with an equally gentle smile, while Pidge’s stayed glued to their computer screen. “Good morning, Keith. A little tardy again today, huh?”
Keith rolled his eyes, putting down the stacked cup trays on an old, wooden table. “Gee. that’s a funny way of saying, ‘Thank you for the coffee, Keith! You’re the best brother I could ever wish for!’ Why, if I didn't know any better, I would almost think that you weren't grateful for my services,” He mocked.
Shiro snorted and shook his head, while the mention of coffee was enough to capture Pidge’s interest.
“Coffee?” They echoed back, to which Keith held out a Starbucks cup in response. “One large, iced Venti Double-Shot,” he stated, the cup quickly snatched up by the gremlin.
“Do you have any idea how much caffeine is packed into that thing?” Shiro asked. He scolded Pidge every single time they ordered it, repeating the same thing over and over. “I hope you realize that it not only is packed with sugar because of the extra garbage you insist on dumping into it, but it also has five whole—“
“Yeah yeah yeah, of course,” they cut Shiro off completely. “Five whole shots of espresso. I know. And it’s delicious,” they objected. “So just take your own peasant coffee and leave me in peace, please.”
Keith’s smile grew ever so slightly, handing Shiro his cup of caffeine and settled into a chair with his own. Only half-listening to the other two arguing over the better coffee, Keith’s mind wandered back to his train ride.
His smile was dropped as he took out the pad he had written notes on for their newest project. Running through his thoughts once again, he got to the dreaded finale song. Looking back up at his bandmates, he interrupted the coffee debate with his own question.
“So, what did you guys think of the playlist Allura sent us?”
Pidge and Shiro looked back up at the mulleted boy with a huff of frustration, sending daggers to each other every so often. “What do you mean?” Pidge asked.
“I mean, did you hear the last song?” He asked again. Pidge exchanged looks with Keith, and then Shiro, and back to Keith again. They all knew what he meant, what he was getting at with his questions. They all knew that the song he was talking about was way out of their wheelhouse, and none of them really knew what to think. Surely it was some sort of mistake, right? Allura would have to be out of her right mind to actually sign them up for this.
“I know Allura said something about her little brother coming in to help out with the choreography, since she knows we're not used to this kind of song,” Shiro mentioned. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a mistake.
“Allura has a brother?” Keith asked. Shiro sighed, and Pidge just raised an eyebrow.
“Keith, she’s mentioned him before. Like, on multiple occasions.”
Keith’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well, maybe I wasn’t paying attention! I have a lot of work to do, so maybe I don’t have enough brainpower to also be listening to Allura all the time,” he defended.
“It’s alright, Keith. We all work very hard,” Shiro calmed. “She never actually gave us his name, but he teaches a kids dance class here and is a competitive dancer himself. He’s supposed to be—“ Shiro was cut off from a buzzing phone in his pocket, which he checked quickly.
He pulled himself up from his chair and adjusted himself accordingly. “Speaking of which,” he started, “Allura wants to meet us in her office for a few minutes. I’m sure you can ask your questions there,” he assured. Keith helped himself up, pulling Pidge up with him and swiped the coffee cup tray before leaving the studio.
“Honestly, she better have a damn good explanation for signing us up for this shit.”