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George found Brad in The Vamps' dressing room. Well, 'found'. He hadn't exactly been looking for him so much as for just anyone to take his mind off the boredom he could feel clouding his mind and his mood like a thick fog. You'd think being on tour would be a bit more exciting, but there were days where there was nothing to do but hang around backstage at whatever venue they happened to be playing that night and it got boring. Especially since Jaymi had Olly around and they'd absconded to George-hoped-he-never-accidentally-stumbled-into where to do George-didn't-really-want-to-think-about what, JJ had Caterina and little Prince around and Josh had... fucked off, seemingly. He was probably asleep somewhere. Or maybe messing around with the rest of The Vamps, since Brad seemed to be the only one here.
"Hey," George said and fell down onto the sofa with a sigh. Brad nodded his head in greeting but didn't look up from where he was scowling at his phone. George waited a few moments to see if Brad would be done any time soon, but nothing happened. Brad was still frowning at his screen and only occasionally tapping at it (which rules out an annoying text conversation) and George was still bored.
"You alright?" George asked.
Brad broke the one sided staring contest with his phone then and rubbed a hand over his face, sighing deeply. Sometimes he did manage to look incredibly weary for someone who generally looked like an excited fifteen year-old. Even if he was getting closer to twenty.
"Yeah, sorry," Brad said and turned to him to give him a lop-sided smile. It was still a pretty smile. Not Brad's best smile, but a smile nevertheless.
"Just the internet being a bit shit recently," Brad went on.
George could feel his brows furrowing.
"Anything specific?" George asked, sitting up from where he'd slumped down into the sofa, so his shoulder came up to Brad's.
Brad shrugged in that way that meant, yes, it was something specific but Brad wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about it. George swayed sideways a bit and let his shoulder bump into Brad's.
"You're only famous because you look like Harry Styles," Brad said, pitching his voice higher to mimic a (presumed) teenage girl and rolling his eyes.
George should probably not laugh, but he couldn't help it. Brad didn't seem to mind, judging by his own grin.
"That thing again?" George asked, sympathy heavy in his voice. He knew all about being 'the new Harry Styles' or, more irritatingly, 'Harry Styles' little sister'. At least Brad had never gotten that one, as far as George knew.
"They're not letting it go," Brad said, frustration clear in his voice and the tense line of his shoulders. "I mean, sorry for making music and having kinda curly hair. And dressing like literally every boy our age."
"You don't even look like him," George said, putting a hand down on Brad's thigh, hoping to offer some comfort. "I mean, you're fit and he's fit, so I guess there's that, but you're not similar, face-wise. Also you're, you know, good at what you do."
Brad grunted his agreement and rubbed his hand over his face again.
"Thanks," he said then. "I don't know why it's getting to me today."
"It happens," George said sagely. "And between you and me, you're prettier than Harry Styles."
That made Brad laugh and turn his grin on George again.
"Thanks," he said. "So are you. You look even less like him."
George pulled up one corner of his smile in a smirk and nudged Brad's shoulder again.
"We should form a club. We Don't Really Look That Much Like Harry Styles," George said.
"Also, We're Prettier?" Brad added, making George grin.
"Also we're prettier," he said and gave a decisive nod.
Brad's eyes flicked down to George's lips for a moment before he looked up at his eyes again and grinned brightly. George had noticed that happen more and more often over the course of the tour, but Brad hadn't said anything and George didn't really know what to say, so he pretended he didn't. He was starting to think, on this sofa backstage on their tour, that it might be a fun thing if Brad were actually looking at him like that. If only because George was definitely looking back.
But that was a problem for another day. For now, it was only important that Brad hadn't glanced down at his phone in the last five minutes and his smile had gotten wider.