[C][AU] Fermata

Hank 'Motherfucking' Masin had become a big star in a short time. From a humble background of a military family from a city in Italy, to an international star that sung in numerous languages, in as many countries as people could get him to.

His sudden and intense fame had caught the attention of big magazines everywhere.

Including the rising and increasingly popular LA-based music magazine Fermata.

The owner of said magazine company had scheduled an interview with the new star.

That was the reason Hank was sat in a hotel room in LA in the early afternoon, sprawled over an expensive leather couch, boot-clad feet resting on the glass coffee table in front of him, nursing a bottle of whiskey, listening to T.N.T and waiting, quite unhappily.

The beginning of a tour through America was going ahead tonight, here in LA, and he would much rather be practising than having to deal with this interviewer.

"Hi. Can you call through and tell Hank Masin that I'm coming up to his room now? It's for his interview," Richard clarified.

The receptionist nodded, hand reaching for the phone as Richard thanked her and made his way up to the highest floor.

He felt a few nerves drive through him.

Eyes momentarily closed, he thought over the information he already had on Hank 'Motherfucking' Masin: Where he was from, his album's name, the singles.

He had been listening to it non-stop all of last night and throughout today until his taxi dropped him off at the hotel.

Finally on the top floor and outside the room, he tugged at his shirt and curled a few loose strands from his ponytail behind his ear in an attempt to make himself more presentable.

Satisfied, he took a deep breath in and out.

Then knocked.

Fleck tilted his head when someone knocked on the door and turned his eyes to the door.

"Its open," he called out above the din of the laptop sat next to his feet, blaring The Jack loudly.

He took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle then leaned forwards to set it on the tabletop. Probably shouldn't drink much right before an interview.

When he settled back against the couch, his muscular arms raised, resting on the back of the couch. Bare from the waist up, the first thing Dick would see of him would be the way his muscles rolled under his skin as he settled into the comfortable position.

Dick opened the door then froze. Blue eyes glued on the bare back and muscles that rolled beneath them.

The door swung close behind him and he willed his legs to move.

"Hi. I'm Richard, from the magazine Fermata," he said, hoping his voice carried over the sound of the music as he made his way around the couch.

The whisky on the table wasn't an unusual sight. Neither was standing in front of a half naked, tattoo covered, man - for interview purposes only.

But suddenly he felt that none of the photos, live interviews and stage performances he had seen of Hank Masin online would prepare him for this.

And he was going to blame Giacinto for it.

He ignored the heat that crept up his neck and continued: "Thank you for taking the time to do this today. I hope it's not too much of a problem."

"Your boss talked to me last night." He knew why Dick was here.

He tilted his head when Dick came into his periphery, and his lips curled into a half smirk. Well, at least his interviewer was cute. He'd had quite a few interviewers that weren't much to look at.

He shifted his foot, pressing the space bar with his heel. Clearly it was a well practised move, as he didn't press anything but what he was attempting to, and the music fell quiet immediately.

"Nah. Just means other people do the boring bit of the setup for me before I get there. Sit." He gestured to the other couch that sat adjacent to the one he was lounging on.

Richard could feel the heat rise even further at the half smirk and diverted his eyes away.

"Thanks," he said. Both to the offering of a seat and for the other man turning the music off.

He perched himself on the edge of the seat and fished out his phone, quickly accessing an app.

"This whole conversation will be recorded."

He placed the phone down on the coffee table between them.

"You can stop or take a break from this interview anytime you like. I will just stop recording."

He forced himself to look at Hank and give him a polite smile. It really wasn't helping his almost there blush.

"Ready to start?"

It was like he was being read his Miranda's.

"I got it."

Richard was recording so he didn't have to write, and Fleck could decide to take a break whenever he wanted.

One arm moved off the couch, outstretched, pointing a 'gun' shape with his fingers directly at Dick. "Shoot the first question."

Richard's eyes followed up from the 'gun' directed at him and back towards Hank Masin's face. It was unfair how he found him even more attractive in person. The finger gun that he normally found so cheesy and eye-roll worthy didn't help.

He licked his lips and swallowed.

Time to start off with a couple of the standard boring questions.

"Right, so, how are you today? And how are you finding LA so far?"

"Tipsy," was his first answer.

Then he blinked a few times and shrugged. "LA's great. Big and flashy and interesting, but it's not home."

That was something that he'd said the every interviewer that had asked him that. 'How do you like my city?' It was great, a great city, an interesting place, but it wasn't his city. It wasn't home, with his mother and father and the zoo that he couldn't cart around with him.

The one thing he'd never put much thought into until after he'd gone, was how much he would miss home when we went on his tours.

"Glad you're enjoying it so far," he said, nodding.

He could understand Hank, he himself having a love-hate relationship with the fast-paced city. It was great for his career and there was always something to do. But it was nothing like the seaside town he was brought up in over the other side of the pond.

"So, your album, Rainy Day; how long have you been working on it?"

Fleck hummed over the question, tipping his head back to look up at the hotel room's high ceiling.

"Well, I've had the idea for a while, and Dare and I have been tossing ideas back and forth since we were, like fourteen. Since Dare taught me to play the six string, I've always wanted to have an album about love."

Casually, he'd had the idea for this album almost ten years.

"I guess I really began working on the songs with intent when I was, maybe eighteen?"

He tapped his foot against the table idly. "A lot went into making Rainy Day."

Richard kept his eyes on Hank, nodding along as he listened to him.

It wasn't an unusual story, but it was one everyone loved. The majority of breakthrough artist's like Hank Masin all had that one album they have been toying around with as kids, putting their heart and soul into it.

"Love is a pretty big topic for a fourteen-year-old. Would you say your ideas about it have changed over the years?"

"Nah."

Fleck shook his head slowly, and his wild mane whipped around his head.

"Love will never always be the sort of thing Rose Tinted goes on about, but those moments will still be there in any good relationship. I've always believed those moments exist. I've just learned to appreciate that there will be unpleasant moments alongside those, too."

Richard resisted the urge to lean forward and push the few loose strand out of Fleck's face. Or run his hands through the mass of bleached hair. He kept them both firmly in place; one on the armrest, the other on his leg.

"So you draw a lot of inspiration on your own past experiences?"

"Yeah." Definitely.

"Can't sing songs like that without experience to spur you on." He'd noticed that a lot. People that sang about things they didn't have experience with often fell flat.

He never wanted to be the sort of artist that fell flat. He was too proud of his work.

Dick nodded as he agreed with what Fleck was saying.

Although he was going to need a little more than that.

"Does that maybe make you feel a little exposed? Since you have all those past experiences and emotions out there in an album for people to listen to and dissect."

His shoulders rolled in a shrug.

"Let people dissect. My music is my life, and if I were self conscious about any of it, I wouldn't be putting my music out there for people to listen to."

He ruffled his hair, pushing it all back out of his face. "Sharing yourself with people is an artist's greatest wish. Why would I feel exposed hen I'm doing exactly what I want to?"

Richard took the chance to admire the swell of muscle in Hank's arms as he pushed his hair out of his face. He almost missed his answer.

"Right, of course," he said a little too fast.

He shifted in his seat and took a second to compose himself. It was no good getting flustered when doing an interview. Especially this one where he forgot to bring his notes with him.

"You said you worked with Dare - that's Darragh from the band, Kelley, right? Would you say that bouncing off from each other since you were teenagers meant that he influenced you are a fair amount?"

"Maybe. I feel more influenced by his pa, really."

His arms crossed over his chest and he chewed on his lower lip.

"Aodh has always been there, teaching the both of us, showing us the best of the best. AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Guns'N'Roses, Bowie, Shinedown; it was all shown to us through Aodh. Dare and I developed together under his wing."

Richard's lips quirked up.

"He must be pretty proud of the both of you."

It made him wonder if there were any old photo's of the two and Aodh that they could use for this interview.

"Would you say that even now you take influence from him? Or are you looking for something new?"

"I'm pretty sure he thinks all our fame is down to him," he said with a shrewd grin.

Aodh had a massive ego. His boyfriend kept him from making that too unmanageable, though.

"Whenever we get the chance, we meet up and share. I dont think we'll ever stop sharing our views with each other."

Dick tilted his head a little to the side.

"Does that mean you are currently working on something new?"

There hadn't been any information about a new album in the making. Sure, it was only just over six months ago since Rainy Days was released, but it would be good for Fermata if they were the first to hear anything.

Fleck grinned at the question and raised a tattooed finger to tap the side of his nose.

"Next question."

He had to leave some intrigue in this interview. Fermata would have to wait just like everyone else.

A little bit of disappointment settled in at the lack of an answer. but despite that, he still felt his lips stretch into a smile at the tease.

"It is notable that you use ambiguous pronouns in your song."

Well, it was notable to anyone that wasn't strictly hetero.

It was one of the things that caught his attention the most through his third listen through. Anyone could easily listen to that album and relate. Or momentarily pretend that Hank Masin was singing to them and the illusion was never broke.

"I assume this is purposeful on your part?"

"He, she, them. Gay, straight, bi, ace. They all feel, and all should have the chance at being expressed in the media without being baited or commodified."

Fleck shifted, leaning forwards and resting his forearms on his knees. His expression was intense and the playfulness he had showed a moment ago was gone.

"It's twenty seventeen. Inclusion is important. These things need to be normalised."