Chapter Text
The plane ride to the US was long and bumpy, but it was nothing compared to Evan Papier’s driving. Darshan Magdum vowed to himself to get his American driver’s license sorted out as soon as possible so that the four boys and their immigration lawyer Dana could avoid ever using Evan as the driver again.
He would also make sure to never, ever, ever book another flight during monsoon season. After a dozen delays, from the weather and from the ever-complicated visa process- which shouldn’t have been THAT complicated given that he was literally ¼ of a band who now had a grammy-nominated original album- he barely made it to the band’s tour bus in LA on time. Even so, he was jetlagged beyond words and full of more stage fright than words could describe.
“It’s the best thing to do,” immigration lawyer Dana explained to him. “A rotation of drivers will reduce our likelihood of crashes and distribute the driving time evenly. Evan will just drive for this shift, then we'll swap someone else out-” she yelped as Evan swerved into a new lane and her coffee cup spilled all over Darshan’s lap.
Darshan stared at his pants. Coffee was everywhere. He was so shocked and exhausted, the pain didn’t even register. “I wish someone else would drive.”
“Sorry Darshan,” she muttered. She put her cup in the trash bag tied around the back of a seat and rubbed her forehead.
“There’s no way those pants are going to dry in time for the Grammies,” Anthony said.
“It’ll be fine,” Dana muttered. “They’re dark. I’ll find a stylist nearby if they’re still wet when we get there.”
Anthony didn’t look convinced, and Darshan shot him a look. “I would like new pants now,” he mouthed to Anthony.
Anthony nodded at him. “Immigration lawyer Dana, we’re going to need new pants for him. If we pull over at the next rest stop, will we still get to the Grammies on time?”
“We’ll be fashionably late,” Zack said.
Anthony grit his teeth and looked away. “No such thing,” he muttered. He’d learned the hard way- this industry was not one you ever wanted to be late in, especially not when you were a newby.
“Excuse me,” Darshan interrupted. “I think I actually hurt myself. I believe your coffee is hotter than what I’m used to.”
Anthony frowned at him. “Come in the bathroom. Let me see. Dana, didn’t you bring like, twenty extra pairs of pants?”
“Three,” she deadpanned.
“Give some to Darshan.”
Dana rolled her eyes, stood up, and went to the bunk area. She came out a minute later wearing brand new pants and holding her old ones.
“Dana, I didn’t mean for you to put on new pants! I meant for you to give Darshan a new pair, that would have been so much simpler-”
“I’m not a fashion designer,” she grumbled. “Be more specific next time.” She sat back down and re-opened her laptop.
Anthony grabbed the old pants from Dana anyway and led Darshan to the bathroom. It was cramped, but they managed to get Darshan changed out of the soaked ones. The burns on his lap weren’t terrible, but they found ice to put on them anyway. “Sorry if it’s too cold,” Anthony said. “I’ve never gotten burned before. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I hope I can still keep up with the dancing,” Darshan said.
Anthony looked up at him and laughed, then went back to icing his thighs.
Darshan frowned. He wasn’t saying it as a joke.
That was another thing, though- the dancing. Zack, Evan, and Anthony had all been dancing their butts off for ages, and Darshan… well… Darshan was lacking in that area. He wasn’t exactly lightning on his feet. He had a good voice that had served him well so far, but he was getting more and more nervous about what would happen when Anthony finally decided to teach him the choreography for their setlist.
Their upcoming tour for their first original album- set to start right after the Grammies, for which they were nominated, also, for their first original album- might be a disaster. But Darshan was trying not to think that.
For now, the pain from the burns on his lap did a good job of distracting him from his dancing-skills-imposter-syndrome.
“Are you still hot?” Anthony asked.
“I don’t know,” Darshan said. “What do you think?”
Anthony set the ice aside and pressed on Darshan’s legs with his fingers. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted. “But I think you’ll be fine.”
Anthony automatically went to pull Darshan’s pants the rest of the way off, so he could help him into immigration lawyer Dana’s ones.
But he stopped when he saw the giant purple skull-and-crossbones mermaid tattoo on Darshan’s calf. “Darshan, tell me this is temporary…”
Darshan went red. “Oh, that was a dare in school,” he stammered. “I, um… well, everybody does stupid stuff in school. It’s a tattoo, like a mermaid thing. It was just a dare. Luckily, I have pants-”
“No, our tour uniform involves SHORTS, darshan!” Anthony stood straight up and ran his hands through his hair in a panic. “I can’t have you on stage with this monstrosity exposed to the world! You’re the good boy, I’m the bad boy, and if anybody has a tattoo it should be me- and if we have a tattoo, everybody knows you tattoo your ARMS first, that’s just basic style- and that’s not even a hot tattoo- Darshan, why the fuck would you ever do that to yourself?! That’s hideous, that ruins everything, oh my god!”
“Well-”
“Darshan, your mermaid skeleton leg tattoo is going to ruin the whole tour!” Anthony started crying, pirouetted in despair, and slammed the bathroom door on his way out.