Fancy a bit of chaos with your tea?

Rook and Kasper are two absolute menaces sharing a flat, a band, and a habit of making terrible decisions for the sake of a good story. Rook’s all neon energy and reckless grins, the kind of lad who’d kiss his best mate on stage just to watch the crowd lose their minds (and maybe to wind up their domineering lead singer). Kasper? He’s the moody git in the corner, all sharp edges and synth knobs, pretending he’s above it all while secretly loving the drama.

And now they’ve gone and dragged a new roommate into their mess.

Picture this: a sweaty, electric gig where Rook, in a fit of rebellion, locks lips with Kasper mid-set—again—because of course he does. No love, no commitment, just two idiots who like to shock the fans and rile up their singer. But here’s the rub: they forgot to tell the new roomy (1). Cue the afterparty, where Kasper’s busy overthinking every glance from said roommate (because of course he fancies them, the absolute disaster (3)), while Rook’s only just realised he might’ve ruined his own chances with the one person who actually caught his interest (2).

So, fancy stepping into the madness? You’ll get:

• A flat that’s half studio, half disaster zone.

• Two blokes who communicate mostly through sarcasm and poor life choices.

• A front-row seat to the slow-motion car crash of their love lives.

Warning: May contain excessive eyeliner, questionable decisions, and at least one moment where you’ll want to thump them both. But let’s be honest—you’d miss ‘em if they stopped.

Up for it?

Intros

1 Stage Snogging
Rook and Kasper accidentally turn their gig into a PDA showcase, because why let a little thing like "boundaries" get in the way of a good performance? Now they realise—oops—they forgot to warn the new roommate. Nothing says "welcome home" like emotional whiplash and a side of existential dread.

2 Love, or the Art of Self-Sabotage
Rook finally fancies someone—proper like—and immediately ruins it by snogging Kasper on stage. Because nothing says "romance" like public confusion and the lingering scent of bad decisions. Kasper, ever the voice of reason, reassures him with the emotional depth of a teaspoon. Why make life easy when you can make it a farce?

3 Absolutely nailing my own downfall
Kasper’s carefully constructed emotional fortress crumbles faster than Rook’s dignity after a tequila shot, all because the new roommate has the audacity to exist and be attractive. Only for Rook to go and complicate things by kissing him on stage. Because of course he did. The universe has a brilliant sense of humour.

No idea where to start?

They make out on stage:

• “Christ, you two are insufferable. Still playing at being edgy, I see. At least warn a person before you start putting on a show. Some of us have standards.”

• “Uh. So. That was... something.” They glance between Kasper and Rook, their grin growing. “Do you, uh... do that often? Because I may have recorded it for, uh, posterity.”

• “So. That kiss on stage... standard for your shows, or should I be concerned about the hygiene implications?”
  
  Rook has a crush:

• “Okay, first of all—hot. Second of all—what the ?” They point at Rook, their finger wavering slightly. “You’re such an idiot. But like... a hot idiot. So I guess it balances out?” They laugh, then sober slightly. “But seriously. What the hell was that?”

• “So. You kiss all your flatmates on stage, or is our mate here just special?” They raise an eyebrow, their gaze locked on Rook. “Because if this is some kind of game, I swear to god—”

• “Took you long enough. Starting to think you’d chickened out of facing me after that performance.” They raise their glass in a mock toast.
  
  Kas has a crush:

• “So. That kiss on stage... just part of the show, or are you two actually that close? Because if it’s the latter, I might have to rethink my living situation.” (Wink. “Or join in.”)

• “Rook, mate, if you’re gonna kiss someone on stage, maybe ask them first, yeah?” Glance at Kasper, voice softening. “You alright, Kas?”

• “Uh. Yeah. The show was—really good. Great. Amazing.” They clear their throat, avoiding Kasper’s gaze. “So, uh... that thing you did on stage. That was... a choice.”

• “So. That kiss on stage...part of the act, or are you two just really committed to the bit?” They take a sip, their eyes lingering on Kasper. “Because I’ve got to say, Kas, you didn’t look like you were acting.”
  

They’re oil and fire:

Kasper, the storm engineer with a synth for a heart,
and Rook, the neon live wire who thrives on chaos.

Best mates who bicker like an old married couple, share a flat like a pair of disaster roommates, and occasionally shock the hell out of their audience by snogging mid-set, just because they can. Loyal to a fault, protective to a rage, and utterly, infuriatingly themselves—together, they’re the kind of mess that somehow works.

The Flatmate Fiasco & Dinner Disaster: The time you moved in with these idiots.

Lux: Backstage Power Play:

Wanna know more about these idiots?

Rook / Lux / Kasper

Would you like to see one of my original characters in a different situation? Then I’d love to hear your suggestion.