112Smoking Hipsters
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Summary: Rukia is an anorexic nineteen year old who works at a vinyl record and bookstore in Karakura Town. When the new local band, Smoking Hipsters, is playing at an underground bar, Rukia decides to go. She sees Ichigo there: a hot, Supreme-wearing, guitar-playing, and smoking twenty year old that looks like he just waltzed out of a hipster's Tumblr account. Things soon get very smokey, very fast.
Rating: M (for language, underage drinking, sex, drugs, you name it…)
Written By: Liym Enello
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"Hey, I'm looking for the Lizzy Grant record on vinyl." A customer asked the young cashier at the counter. Rukia raised her eyebrows at the customer over her first-edition copy of the novel It's Kind of A Funny Story. The man in front of the counter was your typical hipster. Mustache. V-Neck. Bowtie. Sweater Vest. Ugg man-sandals. He was holding a leather satchel and had a bored look in his eyes.
"You're looking for what?" Rukia asked, ignoring the man by training her eyes back on her book.
"The Lizzy Grant album. On vinyl."
"Have you checked the grunge-pop section?" She asks, popping the bubblemint pink gum in her mouth. It matched the color of her long, wavy pink hair. Rukia wore red lipstick, and a gray beanie hat to go with her outfit: vintage sweater, light wash cutoff shorts, patterned tights, and big black boots. She finally decided to put a bookmark –a picture of herself and her cat Kon, taken last Christmas—in her book. She sets it down and looks at the customer, condescendingly.
"Of course I looked there. You can't possibly be out of stock, can you?"
"Yeah, it's possible," Rukia rolls her eyes. "Lizzy Grant's going mainstream. I've got wannabes running in here like madmen waving around their parent's money to buy her old shit. Want her Born To Die album instead?"
"Screw it; I'll just have to get it online."
"See you." Rukia gives the man a sarcastic peace sign as he leaves, pulling a hand-knit scarf around his neck.
Rukia sighed, and picked up her book again. There were only a few other people browsing the store, so she didn't need to pay much attention to them.
Karakura Vinyl & Literature was a semi-popular book and record store on the outskirts of Karakura Town. It was the basic hipster hotspot, with its vintage furniture, a mix of classic and modern literature, and a coffee narthex. They also sold CD's and records on vinyl. It was Hipster Heaven.
Eventually, when Rukia was half-way through her book and her shift had ended, she threw on her beaten denim jacket – with custom spikes on the shoulders, of course—and clocked out of the store, her leather backpack in tow. She closed up the shop, using a huge set of brass keys, and unlocked her bike from the bike rack next to the store. She took off downhill, heading for her apartment downtown. As she was speeding down the sidewalk, Rukia spotted a poster spewed against an old building's brick wall.
SMOKING HIPSTERS PLAYING TONIGHT!
9:00 PM AT URAHARA'S BAR DOWNTOWN
FREE AS LONG AS YOU BUY A DRINK
Rukia smirked. She had had a pretty boring day at Karakura Vinyl & Lit. She could use a drink. And a little dose of local music. Rukia took out her baby-blue iPhone while she was biking, and searched her contacts. She found Orihime Inoue's name, and clicked on it and selected FaceTime. Orihime Inoue picked up after the third ring, her face looked bright and upbeat. Her makeup was a smudged, and her long auburn hair –complete with bleached tips—looked like it hadn't been brushed in a while.
"Yo, Inoue." Rukia said, glancing up at the sidewalk to make sure she wouldn't run into anything while she biked.
"Heyyy, Ruk-kia!" Inoue slurred.
"Drunk already?" Rukia chuckled at her friend's failure to enunciate.
"Yup!" She chirped, and flipped her hair. She had set her iPhone down on her dresser, leaning against the mirror, so she could face Rukia and do her hair at the same time. Inoue gathered up her auburn locks into a messy bun – the best look to pull off when you're drunk—and tied a red bandana around her head.
"Wanna go to a local show at Urahara's bar tonight?" Rukia asked, abruptly coming to a halt at a stop light just before a van smashed her to smithereens.
"Buyyy me a d…drink?" Orihime said, and tried to fix her makeup by applying black eyeshadow all over it, trying to make it look like she did a bad job on purpose.
"Sure, Inoue. Meet me at my apartment in twenty?"
"Yeah, yeah." Inoue slurs, and applies some lavender lipstick on her plump lips.
"Don't drive, you'll kill yourself." Rukia says, and then ended the FaceTime. A few minutes later, Rukia arrived home, and parked her bike in her little separate garage. She entered the building, climbed a couple flights of stairs, and took out her huge set of brass keys to unlock the door to her apartment. She threw her leather-and-native-print backpack down onto the shabby 1970's floral couch in the far corner of the room, and stripped as she made her way to her bedroom. When she was flouncing around in only her underwear, Rukia stopped in front of the huge mirror that covered a whole wall, and looked at herself.
The bones on her hips stuck out, prominently, but Rukia still pulled at the skin around it, begging it to be tighter. She put her hands on her hips, and cringed at the small amount of fat there. She pulled at her skin, and tears almost sprang in her eyes. She turned away from the mirror, and regained her composure by taking deep, steadying breaths.
Rukia had drank a coffee this morning. If she didn't eat anything today, then she'll allow herself to have a few drinks tonight.
At that moment, Kon bounced into the room, his deep orange coat glimmering with the setting sun beating through Rukia's lace curtains.
"Hey, Kon." Rukia murmured dejectedly as she slipped on a lacy pink dress that was a just a few shades darker than her hair color. She switched her gray beanie for a light brown leather headband, and donned shimmery black tights and her signature black boots.
Kon meowed and jumped up on Rukia's quilted bed and licked his paw absentmindedly.
"You hungry, Kon?" Rukia asked her kitten, and scratched him behind the ears.
"Meow!"
"Yeah, at least you can eat." Rukia said begrudgingly. "You're a cat. It's hard for you to get fat." She entered her small kitchen and poured Kon some cat food in a bowl and set it down. Kon purred appreciatively and gobbled up his food.
Then there was a buzz sound, and Orihime's voice—scratchy and static-y from the speakers—penetrated the silent air.
"Yo, Rukia, buzz me in."
Rukia pressed the button on the intercom. "Come on up." She presses another button, and waited for Orihime to arrive.
Rukia picked up a remote in the kitchen and turned on the stereo in the adjoined living room. The huge speakers emitted the soft sound of Carmen by Lana Del Rey.
Darlin', darlin'
Doesn't have a problem
Lyin' to herself
'Cause her liquor's top shelf
Rukia grabbed her bag and threw in her iPhone, sunglasses, and her wallet. Then she grabbed her vintage Polaroid camera, and turned back to the wall-length mirror in her room and reapplied her makeup, opting for minimum eye makeup, just a light touch of lavender and some white shimmer on the corners of her eyes. She added a thin line of liquid eyeliner, and curled her lashes. She switched her deep red lipstick for a light shade of pink shimmer.
It's alarming honestly
How charming she can be
Fooling everyone
Telling them she's having fun
She chuckled to herself. The soundtrack to her fucking life. At that moment she heard Orihime barge into her apartment, stumbling the whole way.
"Rukiaaa!" She giggles.
"Hey, Orihime," Rukia emerges from her bedroom to welcome her friend. Orihime is dressed in the typical semi-innocent, drunken-slut hipster style. Messy bun, with the bandana Rukia saw her throw on, floral dress—super short, which showed off her long pale legs—and a large cream cami, with the word Supreme stitched onto the back. She finished the look by cinching her cami with a belt that accented her enormous boobs. Rukia instantly compared herself to the beautifully curvy woman, but forced herself to keep her eyes off the mirror situated on the far wall of the living room.
"Ready to get drunk?" Orihime shouts, fist-pumping the air. Her cheeks are pink with drunkenness.
Rukia smiles. "Drunker, I guess."
"Hells yeah!"
The two girls head out of Rukia's apartment, and start walking down the street. Rukia doesn't even own a car, she'll just hail a taxi or walk or bike. Orihime needs a car, because she travels long-distances to visit her only brother frequently. She wishes that she had a family like that, one that she would drive for hours in order to see. No, Rukia has nobody. Byakuya, her brother, and Rukia rarely talk, and it's always by phone. He's always in the United States on business. He'll send Rukia money every now and then, so she can by food and pay rent. But he's nothing more than an asset to her.
The duo walk down the streets of Karakura, which are packed with late-night partiers. It doesn't take too long for Orihime and Rukia to arrive at Urahara's Bar, their favorite underground hangout. Urahara usually has local bands to play live music, and it's an overall chill place. They head down a secret stairway that leads to the underground bar, were a Jumper named Chad is stationed.
"Hello Rukia," the big man nods to the pink-haired beauty, "Orihime," he nods to the auburn-headed one. Orihime blushes under the huge man's gaze, and says hello to him. She's starting to sober up now, but that's all going to change. Chad lets the two girls into the bar and are immediately pummeled with the strong scent of cigarette smoke. Rukia breathes in deeply. It smells divine.
Orihime and Rukia immediately give in to the craving and reach into their bags to pull out a cigarette. Rukia pulls out her lighter, and lights Orihime's before she lights hers. Rukia puffs on it gently as they stride deeper into the bar. The pair approached Urahara, who was cleaning a shot glass behind a counter, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He sets the shot glass down so he can lift up his hat slightly to get a good look at the girls.
"Hey, Rukia," he winks, "whatcha drinking tonight?"
"Surprise me, Urahara," Rukia rolled her eyes at the man playfully.
"So is the band any good?" Orihime asks, fiddling with her red bandana, and then orders a jello shot. Urahara pulls one out of a refrigerator and hands it to her. It's like a rainbow. All of the colors overlap each other but never mix.
"Of course the band's good, honey," Urahara chuckles. "Why else would I invite them to play?" He hands her a shot of Captain Morgan.
"Oh shut up, Urahara." Rukia rolls her eyes at him again and downs her shot quickly before ordering a second. "So why do they call themselves Smoking Hipsters? Isn't that like… really generic?"
"Yeah. But not being generic is so mainstream now. The kids decided to just go with flow and name their band the first thing that came to their mind."
"Clever." Rukia mumbled, and downed another shot of Morgan. Orihime's jello shot was just gracing her lips, when Rukia placed her hand on the girl's wrist to stop her. "Let me take a picture of that, Orihime. It's so pretty."
"You and your Polaroid, Rukia…" Orihime said. "I swear you and that animate object are joined at the hip."
Rukia ignored Orihime's jab and took a picture with her vintage camera. She planned on adding a filter to the photo and uploading it to her blog when she got home.
"Can I have my drink now?" Orihime resists the urge to roll her eyes.
"Yo." Came a voice that has been enhanced by a microphone. Rukia turns around to see a bright orange-headed man who looked like he just waltzed out of a hipster's Tumblr account on the elevated stage at the back of the bar. He's wearing a The Cure graphic V-neck, with a gray hoodie and denim cutoff jacket to layer it. Light orange stubble smothers his cheeks and chin, and he's wearing an Only beanie.
Approved.
"We're Smoking Hipsters." The man mumbles in a surprisingly sexy, velvety-but-raspy voice. The rest of the band walks out onto the stage. A teal-haired man, with fake blue contacts, is totally grunge. He's wearing a Nirvana tank, and acid wash jeans. He sits himself down by the drums, and takes hold of his drums sticks. Then a very thin, pale man walks out onto the stage, and takes his place behind a piano/synthesizer. He's more relaxed, wearing a white sweater, black skinnys, and beat up black boots. Half of his head is shaved, to reveal white gauges.
Approved.
So far, the band seems alright. Then they started to play, and Rukia is entranced. It started with a soft drumbeat. It slowly accelerated. The piano came in; playing a relaxed melody that matches the man playing it. Then the hot orange-headed man pulls out an acoustic guitar, and started to sing. She's so enraptured with his voice; she couldn't even listen to the lyrics. Rukia watched the way he sang, with his lips more to the side, his voice falling and rising like the waves of the sea. The bar seems to enjoy the music. At least they haven't been booed off yet—like a lot of local bands Rukia has seen.
"Wow, they're pretty good!" Orihime slurs, and reaches for another rainbow jelly shot.
"Uh, yeah… they are." Rukia broke out of her trace long enough to say.
"You ladies seem to like the 'generic' band," Urahara physically air-quotes, "Smoking Hipsters a great deal."
"They're alright," Rukia said.
"No, they're amazing." Orihime gushed. "I really like the one playing the piano."
"The super-skinny one with the white gauges?" Rukia asked, pointing to the man discreetly.
"Yeah, that one. He's hot." Orihime said. "Which one do you like? Please don't pick my guy."
Rukia studied the band, just when their song faded away and ended. They received appreciative claps from the crowd, nothing more. The orange-headed one nodded and said 'thank you,' to the crowd.
"I think the one with The Cure shirt is hot." Rukia says approvingly as she eyed the man again. The band starts to play another song.
"Oh, he's totts hot, girl." Urahara mocks the two girls sarcastically while serving a different customer their drink.
"Shut up, Urahara!" Orihime shouts, now a drunken mess—again—from her four jello shots.
Rukia finishes her cigarette and tosses it into one of the many ash trays in the bar. Orihime does the same. Then Rukia orders a shot of peachy vodka for both of them.
"And this next song goes to the pink-haired hipster at the bar." The berry-head vocalist glanced at Rukia from across the room. "Who has been ogling me for the past five minutes."
Rukia blushed a deep maroon as everyone in the bar threw her a glimpse and chuckled. Rukia downed another vodka shot in response. She was starting to feel tipsy. And bold.
"As if!" She shouted. "I bet I could sing better than you."
"Oh really?" The berry-headed lead vocalist challenged. "You wanna come up here and sing with me?"
"Oh my God, Rukia, go!" Orihime giggled. "You need to! This is like, a once-in-a-lifetime… hiccup… opportunity!"
"Alright, pretty boy!" Rukia said. "You're on."
The crowd in the bar cheered, and helped Rukia stumble on stage, drink in hand. Rukia approached the vocalist, and cocked her hip to the side. The man smirked, his eyes lighting up under the stage lights.
Bitch mode activated.
"'Common, little bunny," Ichigo handed her the microphone. "Sing your little heart out."
"I don't know any of your songs." Rukia gulped.
"Just sing." He smiled. "We'll follow you."
"Whatever." Rukia rolled her eyes, and started to sing the first thing that came to mind.
Blue jeans, White shirt
Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn
It was like James Dean, for sure
Rukia glanced at the man beside her. He started strumming along on his guitar with her voice. He was familiar with the song. Rukia smiled at that. The pale man, who Orihime liked, started playing along also, adding violins to the song with his synthesizer. She continued to sing.
You so fresh to death & sick as ca-cancer
You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop
But you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and I know
That love is mean, and love hurts
The bar crowd is up on their feet, dancing to the music. Orihime cheers Rukia on from across the bar. Urahara smiles at her. The song picks up momentum when she reaches the chorus, a slight slur escaping her lips while she sang.
I will love you till the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine
Baby can you see through the tears?
Love you more
Than those bitches before
Say you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll remember
I will love you till the end of time
Rukia lost her grip on the stage, and stumbled forward, totally drunk. The people that were crowding around the front of the stage caught her, and Rukia's drink showered them. Rukia started to laugh, and she felt more carefree than she had in a long time. She looked up at the vocalist, who was smirking at her.
"Well, how was it?" Rukia slurred.
"Not bad, bunny, not bad."
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A/N: First chapter of my new fanfiction! What do you think? I'm really proud of this first chapter, actually. It's a lot longer than my usual chapters, holy jesus. Please review and tell me what you think!
Note: Lana Del Rey is a real grunge-pop artist who is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING. She sings both the Carmen song and the song (called Blue Jeans) that Rukia sings at the bar. I highly recommend that you listen to her entire Born To Die album. Oh, and I'm going to make a site where I will post pictures that inspired Ichigo and Rukia's outfits and hair in this fic. I'll put the link in the next update.
-L.E.
