Work Text:
Fig's never had stage fright before. At least, she assumes this is stage fright. She's nauseous and sweating and she can't stop accidentally flicking her pick across the green room. If this is stage fright, it fucking sucks.
"I think I'm gonna hurl," she says, sitting down heavily in a squeaky metal folding chair and leaning over to drop her head between her knees. There's an ear-splitting scraping noise as Gorgug scoots his chair closer, and the spot she was staring at on the floor is shadowed as he leans close.
"What's up?"
"I think I'm dying. Can you die of stage fright?"
Gorgug's large hand pats the back of her neck. "You know what Saint K would say," he reminds her and Fig rolls her eyes but she also takes a deep breath and recites, "Fear is not real." It's quiet for a bit, just the sound of Fig's controlled breathing and Gorgug's foot bouncing, but then he asks, "Are your hands all sweaty and it feels like your insides are gonna explode out of your mouth?"
Fig raises her head and her vision swims for a moment as the blood rushes away. "Yeah, how'd you know?"
Gorgug shrugs. "That's just how I feel before every show."
Fig is horrified, groans, and drops her head again. "What?!" she moans. "How do you do this?"
Gorgug doesn't answer at first, but he pulls out his drumsticks and starts tapping a beat gently on the back of her head. She recognizes it as the slower pace he sets for their song Telescope, and when he would normally hit the cymbals, he taps the tip of one of her horns. He's most of the way through the song when he says quietly, "I like playing drums and I have fun playing with you, so I just remember that when I start to freak out."
Fig doesn't look up, even though she really wants to give him a hug, because she's tearing up and she thinks if she starts really crying she won't stop before they get called to the stage.
"Is this about the new songs?" Gorgug asks. He spins the drumsticks between his fingers, then moves his drum beat to her back, tapping out the faster rhythm of Shrimp Party on her spine. "The songs are really good," he offers.
"I know they are, but they're way more personal than the stuff on our first album and I've never sung them in front of people before. Well, people who aren't you or Ayda or the rest of the Bad Kids," she amends. "And there's a lot of people here tonight and Ayda's in the front row and people are gonna see me sing to her and I feel like I'm not going to be Fig of Fig & the Sig Figs up there, I'm just gonna be, y'know, Fig and that's..." she doesn't say scary even though she wants to (fear is not real) and instead settles on, "a lot. It's a lot. I'm a very private person."
Gorgug chuckles a little. "I know," he says. He pockets his drumsticks and coaxes Fig upright so he can fix her braid because he messed it up a little when he was drumming. As he combs his fingers through her hair, Fig thinks about last summer when she and Adaine and Kristen all taught the boys how to braid, how Gorgug spent weeks with the little white streak of his hair in a tiny braid that Riz perfected with his small, nimble fingers. When Gorgug is finished, he takes her shoulders and turns her back around so they're facing each other and says, soft and easy and matter-of-fact, "For what it's worth? I like Just Fig a lot. She's one of my best friends."
"Shut up," she says, but there's no weight behind it and she's grinning from ear to ear. Gorgug mimes zipping his mouth shut as someone knocks on the green room door.
"Fig? Gorgug? Five minutes!" Lola calls through the door.
Gorgug watches Fig's face pale and her jaw snap shut, so he shouts back, "We'll be right there!" Lola's heeled footsteps echo in the hall as she walks away and Gorgug squeezes Fig's shoulders again. "Hey. I believe in you."
"Spring break," she finishes, and it's quiet but purposeful. Gorgug nods and turns to the mirror to muss his own hair a little and straighten his hoodie. "Hey, Gorgug? I have fun playing with you, too."
"Excellent." He hands her the Infaethable Bass and she slings it over her back. "Look, if you get freaked out again, just think about how crazy excited Ayda's gonna be to see you sing up there." Fig smiles, utterly delighted by the very idea, so Gorgug feels like it's safe to add, "Plus, if you puke and pass out, Riz will definitely think you were poisoned and launch an investigation immediately on stage, so no matter what happens our friends will enjoy the show."
Fig's laughter carries them down the hall and gives him bardic inspiration for the whole show.