Chapter Text
Suga sighed, leaning back and resting his head against the sink. Which might be a bad idea so to speak, but the silver-haired male was too tired to care. He sighs again, feeling fingers tread through his hair as cool water drenched his silver locks. He turns his head to the side and watches a steady stream of water go down the drain, taking away with it a murky black color.
“Told you the dye washes off easily.” He hears a voice beside him say, “And it doesn’t damage your hair, too.”
“I feel dead.” Suga mumbles with a sigh. He hears a quiet chuckle but he doesn’t retort any further like he usually would. His vision was hazy and his eyelids felt too heavy. He felt drained, and he tried his best to stay awake but the feeling of fingers running through his hair was calming, and eventually, his eyes were closing. He knows he shouldn’t be falling asleep here, but he really couldn’t help it. He hears a voice speak, “Damn it, don’t fall asleep.” But the words fall deaf on his ears and he proceeds to drift off, ignoring the waterfall of words and curses tumbling out of the other person’s mouth.
Suga decided not to care. Besides, they owed him big time.
---
“The number you have dialed is not avail – ”
“Goddamn it, you little fuckwit.”
Saturday, 6:30 PM
[6:30] Me: where are you?
[6:30] Me: goddamn it
[6:30] Me: where are you, you little fucktard
[6:31] Me: answer me
[6:31] Me: damn it
Oikawa peeked at his phone, a small frown playing on his face at the barrage of unanswered messages he sent. It’s been two hours since their planned meeting time and the other person was still nowhere in sight. The brunet didn’t know if he should be concerned, because normally, the other came on time and if ever late, didn’t take longer than thirty minutes to arrive (he usually had some acceptable excuses to go with it, too). But right now, they’re two hours late, and Oikawa isn’t quite sure if there is a problem because they had planned everything beforehand, from the transportation to even setting a shit ton of alarms so that he’d surely wake up if he ever fell asleep. Really, they had everything planned. Oikawa even had someone to check up on him and drive him to the venue. So, where the fuck were they now?
Frowning, the brunet opened his phone again, worry creasing his forehead.
[6:36] Me: you idiot
[6:36] Me: where are you
[6:37] Me: were you kidnapped by aliens
[6:40] Me: SEMI EITA
[6:37] Me: I S2G
[6:37] Me: IF YOU DON’T REPLY BACK
The tall brunet was in the middle of typing out his threat when all of a sudden, a somewhat familiar tuft of hair entered his field of vision. He immediately straightened up, eyes on the stranger and scrutinized him. “Seems familiar,” the brunet muttered under his breath before something struck him.
Oikawa stood up from his seat, pushing his chair back with a clatter, and, ignoring the looks his companions gave him, called out to the stranger in a voice full of authority, “YOU!”
Said stranger flinched and stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face him. “Yes?” He asks, voice light and cheery in an attempt to mask the nervous waver in his response.
The brunet stared back at the silver-haired male, blinking slowly. He eyed the man standing a few feet away, making a mental checklist of observations: silver hair, brown eyes, beauty mark, waiter’s clothes, and definitely not Semi Eita. With a defeated sigh, Oikawa sat back down. “Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew.” He apologizes, hands already tapping away at his phone. He barely glanced back at the waiter, who merely smiled and walked away, seemingly content with the apology.
“What was that about?” He briefly hears someone ask, but he merely gives them a glare and a shrug before going back to stare at his phone.
Which now had one new message.
Immediately, Oikawa tapped it, hoping that it had come from the missing blond idiot.
[6:43] Semi: calm down, oikawa
[6:45] Me: what do you mean calm down??!!
[6:45] Me: you little asshole
[6:45] Me: where the fuck are you
[6:46] Semi: that’s the thing
[6:46] Semi: you see, i…
Oikawa frowned, glaring at the screen of his phone with such intensity that his companions feared it might combust. What was taking him so long?
[6:50] Semi: i uh, won’t be able to show up
[6:51] Me: and why is that?
The frown on Oikawa’s face deepened. Semi taking long to respond does not bode well for him.
[7:01] Semi: uh…
[7:03] Semi: …kenji and i got lost?
It took everything in his will for him not to fling his phone across the room.
Sighing, Oikawa leaned back on his seat, a hand rubbing his temples. He already felt a headache coming as he tried to swallow down his annoyance and formulate a response. Before he could do that, his phone let out successive beeps, signaling a barrage of incoming texts. He picks up his phone once more, finding a couple more texts from Semi.
[7:05] Semi: sorry
[7:05] Semi: i swear it’s all my fault
[7:05] Semi: don’t blame kenji
[7:05] Semi: it was my idea
[7:07] Semi: don’t listen to him
[7:07] Semi: it’s my fault
[7:07] Semi: I'm sorry, Oikawa-san
[7:07] Semi: this is Shirabu, by the way
Oikawa sighed in relief. Well at least the blond idiot wasn’t alone. God knows what trouble that guy could get into when left wandering alone. His train of thoughts was disrupted when his phone beeped again, and as he looked at the message, he couldn’t help but smile in slight amusement.
[7:08] Semi: oikawa?
[7:08] Semi: please don’t kill us
[7:10] Me: dw, i won’t
[7:10] Me: but you guys owe me
[7:10] Me: you’re lucky I'm your manager
[7:10] Me: if it were someone else, you’d probably be dead
Oikawa wonders why he couldn’t get mad at Semi for so long. The smaller male annoys him, really, but well, somewhere along the way, they became close friends. He stares at his phone, trying to absorb everything that’s happened, and he quirks an eyebrow at the realization that Semi is alone with Shirabu and, based from the texts, they’ve improved their relationship and are not trying to kill each other (hopefully). He shakes his head softly, wondering what the two were up to.
For a moment, the brunet finally felt calm. But of course his peace wouldn’t really last long.
[7:14] Fuckwit: one hour left
[7:14] Fuckwit: get your fucking charge in the dressing room
“Holy shit.” The brunet mumbles under his breath, sudden realization dawning on him. He felt his companions’ eyes on him. “We have no star.” He slowly breathes out.
The others stare at him blankly, confusion evident in their eyes.
“What was that, Oikawa-san?” Yachi’s light, trembling voice asked. Oikawa stares at her, and she squeaks in fear, stuttering out an apology. But Oikawa ignores her, opting to repeat his previous words. “We have no star.” He says, voice firm and clear.
They still have no clue what he meant. “What the fuck are you talking about, Trashykawa?” Iwaizumi asks from beside him, face contorted in annoyance.
“Semi’s not coming.”
And with that, the table arose into a loud cacophony of screams in disbelief and clattering tableware.
Oikawa could really feel that headache coming what with his companions causing such a ruckus and him having to deal with the a certain pain in the ass. He sighs, running a hand through his locks as he tries to think of a way to relay the situation to a certain pain in the ass.
“So what now?” He hears Iwaizumi ask again, clearly not amused by the turn of events. “I don’t think anyone else is available at such a short notice.”
“Not that that would help.” He hears someone mutter. “They did specifically request for Semi.”
“What are we going to do, then?” Yachi stutters, all trembling with nerves. Oikawa pitied her, she looked ready to pass out.
The brunet sighs. “I don’t know, I’m still trying to think of something.”
Iwaizumi was about to retort when someone stepped in front of their table, clearing their throat.
Everyone stopped, turning to look at the source, and there, standing in front of the table was the same silver-haired waiter from before. He had on a smile that was way too bright and cheery and Oikawa couldn’t help but feel something ominous coming from it. “Dear customers, please be wary of your noise levels. You’re disrupting our other patrons.” The waiter speaks in a cheerful voice. He speaks some more but the brunet wasn’t listening, opting to stare at the silver-haired male instead.
When the waiter seemed to finally be done speaking, he turned around and was about to walk away when an idea struck Oikawa. “Wait!” He calls, out, pushing back his seat.
The waiter stops, turns and looks at Oikawa with a confused look, “Me?” He asks, pointing to himself in clarification.
The brunet scoffs. “No, that glass of water over there.” He responds, rolling his eyes. “Yes, you. Come here.”
Still confused, the silver-haired waiter came over, stopping just beside the brunet’s seat. “Is there something you need?” He asks, but Oikawa doesn’t listen as he walks closer to the shorter male, scrutinizing him. He could feel the other was growing extremely uncomfortable, but the brunet didn’t care. He holds a lock of silver hair between his fingers, inspecting it closely. “Hm, we could work with this.” Oikawa mutters, much to the confusion of the waiter.
The tall brunet turns to face his companions, a serious look on his face. “Yacchan, come with me.” He speaks, voice full of authority, and the small blonde immediately scurries off towards the duo. “Iwa-chan, go fetch some hair dye.” Wordlessly, the said man stood up and walked off, already catching on to the brunet’s plan. Oikawa then eyes the others. “The rest of you, you know what to do.” With a nod, everyone gets up from their seat and goes to work.
“Um, excuse me?” Oikawa turns to look at the silver-haired male, who still looked incredibly lost. “What’s going on?”
The brunet smirked, grabbing the smaller male by the wrist as he starts to walk away. “You, Mr. Refreshing, are going to be an idol for the night.”
“What?!” The smaller male spluttered, and the brunet tried to mask his laughter with a cough. Of course he would be shocked at the sudden turn of events. “Where are we even going?” The waiter asked nervously, watching the taller male’s back.
“Just follow me.” Was Oikawa’s only response, not bothering to look at the man he was dragging along. His mind was busy trying to plan out the next step, which was appearance. The silver-haired waiter had the looks, and Oikawa didn’t know if he had the talent but, they’ll just have to make it work somehow.
(Or the old man will have their heads)