Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Oh my god." 

Alex Mercer looks up from his notebook. He's not much of a songwriter himself to be honest--that's always been Luke's job. But all three of them have written songs before. Reggie loves his dumb country songs, and Alex has tried his hand at it. Julie had let him borrow her phone for a few hours to look up some song stuff. So he'd heard a song and was currently writing it down. 

Nobody knows you now... When you're dyin' in LA... 

Oh. That hits something deep in him. He pulls out his earphone and pays attention to the conversation. 

"...so it's the year of our lord 2021," Luke's saying. 

Alex rolls his eyes. "'The year of our lord'. Way to bring back catholic school memories, Luke."

"Hey, that's what people call it!"

"I can't believe America is two hundred and twenty one years old," Reggie says softly. 

Luke rounds on him. "You idiot it's not just America! It's the whole world!"

Alex wants to cry. "You're both just so stupid..."

"Hey." Reggie frowns. "Dude, chillax."

That makes him pause. "...'chillax' isn't a word, Reg."

"Sometimes the chillax deniears are those who need to chillax the most."

Wise words. Maybe.