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“What kinda music are ya into?”
It was the question that sparked your friendship with Galar’s most famous rock star. You were sitting on the cracked cement floor of Spikemuth’s concert venue after one of Piers’ shows, your tired eyes on your Rotom-phone when the taller man suddenly approached you. After a moment of awkward conversation, his voice hoarse and scratchy after singing so passionately for a couple of hours, he plopped himself down next to you, sending you into a mild panic when he brushed his monochrome streaked hair out of his handsome face.
Enquiring questions were passed back and forth, you unsure why Piers was so interested in where you were from, or what brought you to his show. It was hard to make eye contact at first, what with him being essentially, for lack of a better term, your “celebrity crush”, but something about his laid-back tone helped you relax enough to face him.
When you told him about trying to get out more and expanding your music preferences, he lifted his eyebrows, apparently impressed with your response.
That was when he asked the question…in question.
“Umm…” you tilted your head in thought, your eyes trailing up to the metal ceiling above you, “You’re probably gonna hate this answer, but I kinda like…everything?”
Piers glanced at you; his expression unreadable. “
I mean, I’m not super big into Rap or Hip Hop,” you brought your gaze back to him, “but I feel like everything brings something different to the table. I like listening to different things because of how diverse each genre is.”
Piers scrunched up his nose.
“Even country?”
You laughed. “Hey, early country isn’t that bad! It’s the modern stuff that’s absolute shite.”
You walked out of Spikemuth that night, clutching your Rotom-phone tightly to your chest, treasuring your newly added contact and his promise of “textin' ya soon” swirling around in your head. Sure enough, your phone pinged a few days later.
so what exactly would u classify as “early” country?
And from there, your conversations broadened. It started out as light-hearted debates about different music genres, but they soon grew to your common interests, his weird dream from the other night, the fact that you couldn’t eat kale without gagging – you texted back and forth about literally anything under the sun, and you couldn’t believe that Piers was so willing to just… talk with you. I mean, he’s a freaking rock star, and arguably one of the most famous people in the region. It always made you smile when your phone would buzz, a text from him waiting to be read. You couldn’t help be feel amazed at how normal Piers was, despite his celebrity status – at the end of the day, he was just as much of an overtired and laid-back, albeit grumpy on occasion, person as anyone else. He was very down to earth, and ridiculously easy to talk to, and as a result was quickly on his way to becoming what you would call a close friend.
Your friendship grew beyond sending each other memes through text, and soon you found yourself hanging out with him when you weren’t busy with work and he wasn’t occupied with recording or performing, showing him said memes in person.
It was one day when Piers came over to your flat to hang out and found you laying on the couch, your eyes closed and your face solemn. Soft music was playing through the tinny speaker on your phone as you tried your best to keep your breathing regular. Your mind wasn’t in the best place today, and you struggled to get the words from your brain to your mouth to apologize for wasting his time, but Piers didn’t hesitate before striding over to you, kneeling by your face.
“Everythin’ okay?”
You looked at him, eyes struggling to keep him in focus. You still had a difficult time getting words out, so you made an indifferent, somewhat sad noise in your throat, and raised your shoulders in a gentle shrug.
Piers patted your knees, making you adjust your position to make room for him on the sofa. He motioned for you to come closer once he was sitting, and he tentatively wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you propped yourself up next to him. Neither of you said anything, the gentle beat of the music coming from your phone the only sound playing in the small apartment room. Piers gently stroked your shoulder with his thumb, staying quiet as you took a few more deep breaths.
He finally spoke, his low voice vibrating through your ribcage where your torso met with his.
“What’re we listenin’ to?”
You rubbed your face with your hand. “Lo-fi,” you finally mumbled as you lowered your face until your cheek rested on Piers’ bony shoulder.
Piers looked up at your phone, listening as the song changed and a new one began to play. No lyrics were heard, the quiet piano and sounds of radio static making even Piers’ heart slow to a more relaxed pace.
He hummed, the sound again vibrating through your body. “I like it,” was all he said.
You couldn’t help but smile a little. “’s nice to listen to when you’re feeling a little down,” you said quietly, “Nothing too intense, no lyrics to associate with your mood.”
Piers nodded, “Kinda like white noise.”
You exhaled a short sharp breath through your nose.
“Except this doesn’t make me have to pee.”
Piers’ shoulders shook too much from laughter and you had to raise your head, for fear that you’d receive a bony plate inserted sharply into your eye.
The next time you saw him, you were in much better spirits. You practically bounced into his kitchen, your phone in hand as he was taking a tea bag out of a steaming mug.
“Dude! You gotta hear this new playlist I found!” you exclaimed; your smile wide.
Piers glanced at your phone in your hand before shifting his gaze to your shining face, his permanently tired frown unchanging.
“Guess I’ll make more tea,” he grumbled as you sat yourself at the table.
Ignoring him, you hit play and the sounds of aggressive punk rock blasted from your phone’s speaker. You tapped your fingers to the beat, your shoulders swaying as Piers poured hot water into another mug. Your eyes were closed as you listened, your smile never faltering even as Piers sat next to you. He slid your mug towards you, watching you jam out in your seat through his half-lidded eyes.
You opened your eyes to meet his, shooting him a big grin.
“You seem to be in better spirits today,” he noted, bringing his tea close to his face to blow on it.
You shrugged, making a nonchalant squeak in the back of your throat.
Piers’ eyes shifted from your face to your phone on the table. He tapped the screen, making an offended face when he read the artist’s name.
“Yer listenin’ to punk that’s not mine?”
You snorted.
“I’m allowed to like other artists, you know.”
Piers took a sip of his tea. “I’ll let it slide,” he said after swallowing, “this time.”
You gave his shoulder a gentle shove, grinning as you brought the mug Piers brought up to your lips.
“Only because I like seein’ ya so happy,” he added as you went to take a sip.
The softness of his statement caught you by surprise, causing you to almost choke on your tea.
“Y-you can’t just say things like that!” you squeak, holding your hand to your chest.
“I’m gonna start thinking you like me or something!” you added, giving him a cheeky look.
Piers chuckled. “I just know things’ve been a l’il rough for ya lately,” he said gently, his eyes soft as he gave you a small lopsided smile, “It’s nice to see ya smilin’ again.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from blushing a little at his kind words.
“Thanks,” you mumble, shooting Piers a shy little smile of your own, “It feels nice to smile again.”
The next song started then, and your eyes lit up once more. Piers hummed in approval as he took a sip of his tea. “Ah, now this is a good song.”
You agreed as you started to hum along, bobbing your head slightly to the beat.
Piers tapped his foot along with you, but he kept his eye on your relaxed, happy face. His thoughts began to wander back to last week, and how different you seemed now compared to when the two of you were on your sofa, silent and solemn as the quiet tones of lo-fi played.
He sipped his tea. You liked lo-fi because it, what was it again? No lyrics to associate with your mood?
Guess it makes sense, he thought. His thoughts were briefly interrupted to you singing to the chorus, lightly smacking your fingers against the wooden table to the music. You seemed like a completely different person today, all smiles as you patted the table ever-so-slightly off-beat. It was like listening to punk rock brought out another side of you altogether.
Or maybe it’s vice versa? Piers couldn’t help but wonder as he took another sip of tea. Maybe punk doesn’t just make you happy, but being happy… made you want to listen to punk? Piers made a mental note to pay attention to what you listened to from then on.
And you listened to a lot. You weren’t kidding around when you first told Piers that you liked everything. He came over one time to find you listening to acoustic indie music, and you’d described to him how you sometimes wanted to travel abroad and walk through expansive grassy fields and get lost in the mountains under a deep, starry sky. Another time he almost tackled you when you played that dreaded “early” country, you laughing as you made him listen to a song that you grew up with before his annoyingly long reach snatched your phone out of your hand. On one occasion did he hear cheesy mid-2000’s hip hop playing when he strode into your flat, only to abruptly turn around and leave as you laughed at his horrified expression.
It was one of those days. You could tell when you woke up that you were falling into another downward spiral. You could physically feel your mental state worsen, your brain feeling heavy as you forced yourself to pick up your phone and open Piers’ and your text conversation. The last thing he’d sent you was a funny Meowth video, but even though it had made you laugh last night, now it barely made your mouth twitch. You hesitated before typing out a short text. You almost deleted it, but you tapped Send before you could change your mind.
Are u busy today?
You turned the screen off and laid the phone next to you as you lay on your bed, closing your eyes as you let out a deep sigh. It’s just gonna be one of those days…
Your phone buzzed. You almost ignored it before snapping your arm out and snatching the device off your duvet.
not really, why?
You didn’t have the energy to smile, but your heart seemed to soften at Piers’ response. It felt like he always said that, even though he complained so often about recording and performing being so draining.
You swallowed before quickly typing out another message.
Any chance you’d want to hang out for a bit? Just feeling kinda shitty
The three little dots popped up almost immediately.
u sick? need me to pick up any drugs or soup or somethin?
No, im not sick
You screwed your eyes shut for a moment.
Just mental stuff
Piers didn’t hesitate to respond.
wanna come over? I know something that’ll help
Which is why, despite how heavy your limbs felt and though you wanted nothing more than to just disappear under your duvet for the rest of the day, you found yourself standing outside Piers’ front door 20 minutes later. Normally you’d just let yourself in, but your mental block made you freeze in place outside in the chilly early winter air. You couldn’t help but wonder how, even though Spikemuth was more or less enclosed, there still seemed to be a steady icy breeze that sliced right your jacket.
You raised your fist and knocked, the metal door biting cold against the skin of your knuckles.
Piers flung open the door almost immediately after the first knock, his usual frown laced with concern.
“Why didn’cha just come in?” he said, moving to allow you space to pass by as you shuffled in out of the chill.
You didn’t say anything, giving a one-sided shrug
Piers sighed before closing the door behind you. You heard the click of the lock as you quietly rubbed your arms to try and warm yourself up. Piers’ flat was nice and warm, as per usual, but after being outside for even a brief moment, the heat didn’t seem to want to settle on your goosebump-y skin.
Piers hands covered yours. “Still cold?”
You nodded. You couldn’t look him in the eye for some reason, keeping your gaze down.
Piers said nothing for a moment before he wrapped a lithe arm around your shoulder.
“C’mon,” he said gently, “I got somethin’ I wanna show ya.”
You allowed him to steer you away from the front door and down the narrow hallway. He was so warm pressed up against you, you almost wanted to close your eyes and curl up next to him, getting all wrapped up in his large maroon hoodie. Thinking about how close you were, him holding you closely to his side, you couldn’t stop a blush started to form on your cheeks. But when Piers turned you around the corner to his living room, your thoughts were put on hold as you gasped.
It seemed that Piers had gathered every blanket he owned and made a sort of nest on the floor in front of the sofa. Pillows lined the nest, and Piers’ scratched-up coffee table was pushed to the side, with two big steaming mugs sitting on top just waiting for you. You couldn’t stop your hands from flying up to your face, tears almost forming as you heard lo-fi playing quietly through better quality speakers than the little phone you were accustomed to.
“W-what…” you tried to get out, but Piers had taken your hand from your face and held it, leading you towards the blanket nest.
“Used to do stuff like this with Marnie when she was young,” his voice was gruff, but gentle, “Figured it would help ya feel better.”
You noticed how Piers didn’t look at you as he spoke, but you could tell he was blushing by how pink the back of his neck and the tips of his ears were.
You finally smiled for the first time that day, giving his hand a gentle tug so he would turn and face you.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, releasing his hand so you could reach up and wrap your arms around his neck in a hug, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
Piers froze for a moment before returning the gesture, his arms making their way around your waist.
Soon you found yourself snuggled up in the blanket nest, selecting a particularly soft one to wrap around your shoulders as you held your cup of tea in your hands. You were watching as Piers scrolled through shows on Netfletch, but you were so content listening to the lo-fi playlist he’d selected that you were offering no input on which show you’d like to watch.
Piers gave you a half-hearted glare when you once more made an indifferent noise to the show he’s just suggested before sighing and turning the tv off.
“If yer not gonna cooperate,” he muttered as he crawled back over towards you, “then we’ll just hafta sit here in silence.”
You chuckled as he sidled up next to you, tugging the soft blanket surrounding you over his long legs.
“That’s okay,” you smiled as he made himself comfortable. You laid your head on his shoulder.
“I like sitting here with you,” you mumble quietly, almost hoping that Piers didn’t hear you.
He did. You felt the vibrations of Piers’ deep hum as he adjusted his position, once more laying an arm around your shoulders. You were thankful that he couldn’t see your face properly from this angle, because you were sure that your cheeks were permanently stained pink by now.
“Nice playlist choice,” you noted as the song changed.
Piers glanced down at you. “Ya got me goin’ on lo-fi a bit,” he said, “’m findin’ myself listenin’ to it in the evenin’s a lot.”
You gave a pleased sort of wiggle, causing him to chuckle.
“A-actually…” You felt his body shift as he cleared his throat.
You lifted you head from his shoulder to eye him questionably.
Piers’ cheeks were also tinted pink when he continued.
“Listenin’ to lo-fi kinda reminds me of you,” he mumbled, not looking at you, “Find it really helps calm me down.”
You felt your cheeks grow warmer still, but you smiled. “You mean you find me calming?” you asked him, a hint of teasing in your tone.
Piers finally met your gaze with his icy blue.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
You smiled at him, giving him the gentlest nudge with your shoulder. “Me too,” you tell him, making his eyes light up.
The two of you sat in Piers’ blanket nest for what felt like hours, listening to lo-fi and talking. It proved to be a great distraction from your depressive episode from this morning – negative thoughts haven’t crossed your mind since you settled into your cozy state.
Piers also proved to be a good distraction, if you could call him that. Your heart grew the more he spoke to you, the way he would move his hands as he told stories from his childhood, the way his face would practically glow when he spoke of his younger sister. You sipped your tea, watching him as he was telling you about the time a Bewear invaded his camp when he was participating in his Gym Challenge when you began to really notice something:
You already knew you liked Piers. A lot.
Probably more than you should, given the fact that he’s your best friend.
But it’s moments like these, when you’re both so relaxed and being real with each other, and when Piers goes so out of his way to help your shitty days get significantly less shitty that you realize that you probably more than like him, if you catch my drift.
He frowned, asking you if you were alright when your face went red and you sort of choked on your tea at that realization.
“O-oh, yeah!” you waved it off, letting slip a nervous giggle, “I’m good!”
Piers looked at you for a moment before scooting closer to your side. You were sure that your face looked like a tomato at this point, but then Piers spoke.
“D’ya remember the night we met?”
You looked at him with curiosity.
“Of course?” you replied, “It was after one of your shows last year.”
Piers hummed. “Already a year ago. Man, time flies when yer havin’ fun.”
You nodded, smiling at the memory.
“Why do you ask?”
Piers tilted his head back and forth, his long bangs gently brushing against the side of your face.
“…Jus’ reminiscin’,” he said, “It’s just kinda hard to believe that we didn’t know each other at all before then.”
You nodded again, your smile remaining as you turn to look at the taller man sitting next to you.
Piers adjusted his position, leaning back on his hands before he continued. “I remember seein’ ya in the crowd and thinkin’ that I’d never seen ya around before,” he said, his eyes focused on something that wasn’t there and a faint smile on his lips, “It was weird, how badly I wanted to meet ya.”
You knew you were absolutely blushing at this point, but you couldn’t look away from him. “Was it because you thought I was cute?” you asked him, hoping he would hear the teasing tone in your voice over how much it was shaking.
He must’ve, because Piers chuckled, shifting his position so he could rub the back of his neck.
“Yeah.”
You had to look away, before your face gave away the absolute storm of emotions raging through your head right now. Were you excited? Were you anxious? Who knows?
Piers’ voice brought you back to reality when he spoke. “’m just glad I got the chance to talk to ya when I did.”
You shift your gaze to the now-empty mug in your hands, a few tea leaves stuck to the bottom. You remembered that night so vividly, how nervous you were when Piers first approached you and how comparable those butterflies in your stomach felt to the way you were feeling now. You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the similarities.
“What’s so funny?” Piers asked you, lightly nudging your shoulder with his.
“I was just remembering how nervous I was when you first came up to me,” you tell him, “and being kinda scared when you asked me about what kind of music I liked.”
Piers looked at you for a moment before he laughed.
“To be honest, I ask everyone that question when I first meet ‘em,” he admitted, a sleepy grin on his pale face, “but it was your honesty that made ya stand out.”
You look at him, your eyes widened in surprise.
“Most people would usually say ‘punk rock’ or ‘heavy metal’, just to try an’ impress me,” Piers told you, shrugging, “Not many people would come up an’ say “I like everythin’” the way you did.”
Your eyebrows raise, disbelief painted on your face. Your expression made Piers laugh again, which in turn made you giggle. You could never resist the sound of his laughter; it was almost melodious, and very contagious.
“I have been noticin’ things since that night, though,” Piers said, leaning against you.
“What sort of things?” You asked, leaning back, praying that he wouldn’t be able to hear how loud your heart was beating.
“How truly different each type of music really is,” Piers said almost wistfully, “I only really listened to different variations of rock every day, but since meetin’ you—” he nudged your shoulder, “I find myself listenin’ to so much more, and actually payin’ attention to every part of it.”
You didn’t know what to say. A tiny voice in the back of your mind grumbled that this wasn’t at all what you wanted to be hearing at the moment, but the rest of your common sense told that small voice to shut up. Piers had never been so physically close to you before now; his arms almost completely wrapped around your form and his cheek lightly grazing the top of your head.
It was his tone as well, the softness that you so rarely heard that made you want to not ruin this moment. You knew Piers well enough by now to know that when he spoke like this, you wanted to listen with every fibre of your being to make him feel heard, and because you knew that you never wanted to miss what he had to say.
“I mean,” he continued, “I always knew that music had the power to affect people. I’ve seen it when I perform. But…”
Your heart protested when he pulled himself away from you, but it was only to turn and face you properly.
“I’ve never seen music affect someone as much as it affects you,” he said plainly, his expression curious. He looked at you, as if hoping to find some sort of answer hidden in your eyes.
“W-what do you mean?” you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper.
Piers gave you one of his small lopsided smiles before he reached over, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Didja know that you only listen to lo-fi when yer feelin’ down?”
You paused. Did you?
“I…I suppose so?”
Piers chuckled before continuing.
“’ve been noticin’ it since we started hangin’ out. You tend to listen to different genres dependin’ on yer mood.”
You blinked slowly, your gaze never leaving Piers’ face.
“I mean, I did say that I like listening to all sorts of music—”
“And ya really do,” Piers said, taking one of your hands in his, “I think it’s incredible.”
You let out a short laugh. “You’re so cheesy,” you tell him, shooting him a smile.
Piers smiled back. “I’m serious!” he said, giving your hand a light squeeze, “Ya listen to lo-fi when yer down, ya listen to punk when yer in a great mood, ya listen to indie when yer feelin’ stuck in one place—”
He went on, listing all the things you liked to listen to and their corresponding emotions.
You were flabbergasted, listening as Piers read you like a book. And not just a plain old book, we’re talking like a large-print, pop-up book. You had no idea that you were so transparent with your moods when it came to your music tastes, and you had no idea that Piers was so in-tune with your emotional ups and downs. It made your heart feel full to know that he was paying such close attention to something that you never really stopped to consider yourself.
After Piers was finished, you sat there in stunned silence for a moment before you found your voice again.
“Holy shit,” you muttered, staring at him with wide eyes.
Piers laughed nervously, reaching up with his other hand to rub the back of his neck again.
“It’s just easy to notice the things ya do,” he said sheepishly, looking up and locking eyes with you, his eyes full of uncertainty, and… was that a small sliver of hope you saw?
You decided that that was a good enough sign for you. You placed your empty mug out of harm’s way and practically threw yourself at Piers, wrapping your arms around his neck once more as you tackled him into the blanket nest.
Piers let out a strangled “oof”, barely registering what was happening before you pull yourself away from him enough to bend back down and hastily press your lips to his cheek.
He froze as you scrambled off of him, giggling like a schoolgirl and apologizing.
“S-sorry!” your voice was high-pitched and shaking like a leaf, causing you to laugh nervously. Oh god, what have you just done? “I don’t know w-what came over me--”
But you didn’t get to finish your stammering when Piers reached over to cup your cheek, turned your head to face him, and kissed you full on the lips.
It was your turn to freeze as you felt his mouth pressed against your own, shaking slightly, but you threw all caution to the wind and closed your eyes, letting out a gentle sigh as you kissed him back. His hand snaked from your cheek to the back of your neck, supporting your head as his shaking ceased, releasing built-up tension with a deep sigh of his own.
You stayed locked in your embrace for a moment before Piers hesitantly pulled away.
You kept your eyes closed, and you felt him lay his forehead against yours. You slowly opened your eyes to see his icy blue looking back into yours, half-lidded and relaxed.
“Hi,” you breathed.
He chuckled.
“Hi,” he whispered back.
His eyes seemed to search yours again, but this time, they seemed satisfied with the answers they had found.