Chapter Text
There was no way nobody else wasn’t able to notice it, even Øystein himself was able to sense it. It started off with Pelle showering more, even brushing his teeth more. Though the guitarist could feel a semblance of gratitude for it, as well as relief— something felt off.
Not only was he more hygienic, he was also simultaneously growing his hair out.
I’m thinking too much into all of this…There’s no way he’s trying to impress someone, and I don’t know about it.
He was too engrossed in his own thoughts, his surroundings coming back to him in an instant. Jan was next to him, attempting to light the ground up weed that rested within the bowl of the bong, the lighter damn near faulty as the ice he buried into the apparatus melted slightly.
“Damn it!” The drummer exclaimed, averting his gaze over to Øystein soon enough. “Dude…Do you have a lighter?—”
“What the hell kind of a question is that, Jan? He doesn’t even smoke…” Jørn soon intervened, his eyes drifting from person to person within the room.
Finally, they settled onto a tipsy Lena, who was by Pelle’s side for the majority of the night. Cigarette and lighter in hand, she stroked the cam of it repeatedly before it finally lit the tip of it, smoke emerging soon enough before flowing free. Pelle’s only sign of engagement with her was eye contact as he stared at her, his lip bitten.
“I know who has a lighter…” Jørn observed, hesitantly directing the gaze of the guitarist to that side of the room with a hesitant finger.
“Don’t…Point!” He muttered, smacking Jørn’s hand away soon enough.
Since when did they hang out…?
“She likes watching him eat— He likes watching her smoke…? Shit’s weird man…” Jan added on, unknowingly adding fuel to the fire.
The guitarist soon turned his head towards the drummer; his brows furrowed as the other man caught the gravity of the situation. “How do you know this?”
“I could go over there if you want— I’m a really good third wheel…” The drummer digressed as he continued to watch the two, stroking the cam of his lighter until the ground up weed shriveled at the influence of the flame. The sounds of the water bubbling soon stirring down as he blew the majority of the smoke out of his lungs.
“Yes!” He exclaimed, quickly lifting the bowl of the bong with his index and thumb before hovering his lips over the mouthpiece, inhaling the delicious smoke just as quickly as he was about to exhale.
Øystein could swear the placebo effect of the secondhand smoke was taking a toll on him as he watched the blond man politely run his thumb against Lena’s fingers.
“I’m leaving, fuck this.” He declared, both Jan and Jørn caught by surprise as he stood up from beside the couch.
“Woah woah woah— What about him? You’re leaving him here?” Jørn queried, his expression etched with concern as he gripped the other man by the wrist.
“I can’t watch that shit…You know how I feel about her—”
Jan soon cut him off, rolling his eyes soon enough out of change of perspective. “That’s what this is about? What, are you going to watch him fuck her too? You cuck…” He exhaled, the words were unprovoked, yet Øystein could feel a tinge of projection in Jan’s words.
“You don’t think that they…?” The two could infer what Øystein meant, and it wouldn’t lead to an eventful conversation.
“…No!” Both Jørn and Jan replied, though they muttered different things after their coincidentally similar answer.
“Maybe…” Exhaled the drummer.
“I think it’s best if you go home actually…” The bassist muttered.
I knew it. The guitarist thought to himself.
“Thanks…” Øystein muttered, nearly defeated as he composed himself. He didn’t even want to glance across the room once more, it felt too risky, especially since Jørn had just pointed.
Fuck this…
Why him…Lena?