Chapter 1
The blinding stage lights obscured most of the crowd, but the screams reverberating off the walls told the three they had packed the stadium.
With a voice between Rob Cantor and Deryck Whibley, and a sort of Midwest indie punk musical style, Mink Cecil was a contrarian's dream. He had a certain appeal - a little grungy, his hair rarely kept, and a tattoo of a “TM” on the lower corner of his right eye. All the Alphas wanted to have him and Omegas fantasized about being him. He had the world in the palm of his hand.
The guitarist was a childhood best friend, a stocky beta who went by Danny Esteves. They were both in their early twenties. He had chubby, scruffy cheeks, and a sweet demeanor that the women in their audience loved.
Pascal Burchard played the part of the drummer. He was an alpha in his late twenties, a little gaunt in the face, but muscular. He was the least in the public eye, attended interviews and stuff, but was a strong silent type.
The band wasn’t world renowned or anything, but they had a dedicated fan base. Mink was a household name, something he was proud of, even if it was mostly because of the tabloids. Their manager, Vance Eden, was constantly on his ass about trying to be more family friendly.
The others, though they wouldn’t tell him, had to agree to an extent. They didn’t care about their image much, they were happy with their fan base, but they were a little bit sick of the omegas escapades.
But when it all came together like this - the sold out stadium, Mink dancing around the stage in his underwear to the sound of screaming fans, and enough drugs to roll an elephant pumping through the omegas veins; The air was electrified with endorphins.
“Thank you! We’ve had a great night, Los Angeles!” Mink cheered into the microphone, kissing his hand and blowing it at the audience before bowing and sinking into the stage in time with his band mates.
“Oh my god, that was amazing! Were we actually sold out?” The persona instantly switched as he nearly tackled his band mates, hugging them enthusiastically. “God I could do a whole other set!”
“Yeah, I’m sure. We gotta get back to the hotel though, we leave at like 3 am.” Pascal replied half heartedly, lacking the energy to entertain the omega.
“Sure yeah, you go ahead. I’ll stick around here for a bit,” he started to wander off, likely to roam the empty maze of hallways until he found a fan to fuck or give him free drugs. They (he) had a sizable stash accumulated at this point in their career.
“No, we arn’t going to go on a wild goose chase at two in the morning looking for you,” Vance grabbed him by the bicep, chucking him onto the couch, “Get dressed. We gotta go.”
Mink stood up quickly, Pascal rolled his eyes and restrained the omega from attacking their manager. Danny gathered Mink’s clothes, throwing them in a bag as their drummer carried the omega out wrapped in a blanket.
This wasn’t the first time they played this game, and Mink had the decency not to act like he was being kidnapped in times like these. It offered brief moments of positive publicity, ‘the alpha drummer carrying their tuckered out omega back to the tour van after successful show’.
“This is bullshit, just so you know.” He muttered to the drummer, through smiling gritted teeth, “I’m fully capable of doing whatever the fuck I please, thank you very much. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Yeah. I’m sure.” The drummer replied sarcastically, opening his arms and pretending to drop the omega when he reared back to punch him.
Sticking him in the far back seat, Danny helped him get dressed into his after-show shorts and t shirt. He was more willing to let the guitarist help him out, seeing as Mink had seen Danny in equally as embarrassing situations as rolling in a tour van so hard he can’t stick his legs through pant holes.
“Good boy,” Danny complimented quietly when the omega laid his head in the betas lap, gently scratching his scalp.
Mink hummed happily, rubbing his face into the betas bulge. Danny gasped, tightening the grip on his hair and pulling him back a few inches, “Hey, no. Not right now.” They weren’t unfamiliar with each other in that regard, but the beta tried to keep him occupied other ways when he was this plastered.
“I love you,” he smirked playfully up at Danny, turning his head to kiss the betas wrist. A small detail that confirmed the omega was blacked out.
“I love you too, go to sleep.” Danny continued to scratch at Mink’s scalp, playing with his hair as he relaxed. Mink watched the reflections of the street lights illuminate the back of the seat in front of him; increasing in size before rapidly shooting off into the shadows, repeating the pattern and hypnotizing the omega into a half-sleep.
— . —
“Oh. My god.” Mink croaked out, the blaring of the alarm almost drowning him out.
“Overdid it, huh?” Danny stretched, his voice hoarse with sleep.
“I think I died. How long were we asleep?” Nobody had sat up yet, Pascal was still debatably unconscious.
“Like -… Four hours? Something like that.” There was a beat of silence before Danny felt the omega slip into the bed behind him, hugging him and snuggling his face into his back.
The beta smiled, reaching back to clamp a hand over the omegas underwear-clad butt cheek and pull him closer.
“Do you wanna have a quickie?” The omega whispered, kissing the back of Danny neck.
He laughed affectionately, “No, it’s already 2:30 we have to get out to the bus. You don’t want Pascal to see your butt, do you?” Mink shrugged, casually chomping down on the betas shoulder, “HEY! Shit!” He fisted the hair on the back of his head and pulled him away, rolling over to look at him.
His pupils were still dialated, the omegas natural smell of vanilla and citrus enveloped the two, soured just a little from the long term drug use. The heat suppressant he was on dampened his natural scent, but it was still recognizable if you knew what you were looking for.
Pascal finally sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his face aggressively, “What time is it?” The alpha had set his bed up on a roll out that the hotel usually provided, a position the three cycled between.
“Time to go,” Danny heaved himself up, leaving Mink to pull the blanket up over his head when the drummer turned the lights on.
—.—
Mink nested in the far back seat with various discarded clothes and blankets found lying around the van, kicking out Danny to be in the middle row by himself, while Pascal rode passenger, and Vance drove. The omega was out like a light, as was the drummer.
Danny was scrolling through his phone, head leaning against the window. Omega issues popped up in his recommended feed often, so he didn’t think twice before tapping on a Reddit notification out of Pheonix.
It was a pretty elusive thing, the omegas being worth more than most peoples homes, but Arizona had a big Show Omega scene. The beta tapped away the second his brain registered the line of omegas presenting themselves for judges, casting a glance over his shoulder to assure the singer was still asleep.
Mink took a lot of the omega rights stuff very personally, he’d been known to fire support staff mid tour if he got the impression they weren’t progressive. Not that Danny had to worry about being canned from his own band, but he didn’t want the omega to jump to conclusions and think Danny may have nefarious intentions.
The beta had vowed to protect Mink since the pair were in second grade. Mink was on the swing set, high enough in the air to convince himself he could flip over the bar - expressing the same enthusiasm he’s always had, the boy climbed onto the seat, crouched to jump off the swing set, and slipped. The seat connected with his stomach mid-fall and sent him somersaulting face first into the sand.
Blood and snot was everywhere, the kid luckily didn’t knock his teeth out, but nearly crushed his nose. Danny could remember feeling his heart sink at the panicked crying, running over from the 4-square yard to help collect the stranger off the ground and walk him inside to the nurse. Mink still went by Ethan back then.
He had been dragged into a lot of situations because of the omega since they became friends. High school parties in middle school, college parties in high school. He had been tasked with saving the Omega from various situations, more times than he could keep track of. He wouldn’t trade any of it for a second.
Things were becoming worry-some politically. The omega admittedly had reason to be suspicious of strange alphas trying to get too close. The Governor of Nevada was working on passing some devastating omega rights laws. Many were convinced he was also quietly working on a presidential campaign. He wished he could protect Mink from it all, but he didn’t know how he could begin to help with something like this.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, and never planned to tell Mink directly, he did sometimes think the omega would benefit from someone - sort of - being in charge of him? He just didn’t tend to make good choices when it was left up to him. He would opt for instant satisfaction over long term benefit every time.
He didn’t really even tend to give much consideration to what Danny would tell him. He’d let the beta help pick up the pieces after he gets hurt, but he wouldn’t let anyone prevent the damage in the first place.
He didn’t want to take the control from his friend, but he wanted Mink to let him help.
The van pulled into a Mom & Pop gas station, Pascal jolting awake when the vehicle was put in park, while Mink remained dead to the world. The omega was shivering in his sleep, probably starting to come down.
“I gotta pee,” the drummer grunted, slipping out of the van, “text me what you guys want for breakfast, I’m gonna see if they have anything hot here.”
Danny climbed into the far back seat, gently shaking the sleeping Omega, “Hey, it’s like 5, do you need to use the bathroom?”
His pale eyes blinked open groggily, not quite focusing on the target, “Shit, probably.” Mink sat up, popping his back as he stretched, “Where is everyone?”
“Vance is pumping gas, or smoking maybe. Pasc is already inside. I’ll wait out here, grab me a McGriddle rip and a Gatorade if they have em,” The beta settled back into his seat, pulling one of the blankets out of the omega’s nest while he couldn’t defend his hoard.
— . — . — . —
Mink performed his vocal warmups as he searched through his stash-bag, pulling out baggies of various pills and powders. Most of which he acquired for free from fans. The omega counted his inventory and pulled out the lineup for that evening.
He only ever snorted or smoked the substances he was given, he refused to inject anything. In his mind, that somehow justified things. He popped a few unlabeled pills.
It was an open secret, the others definitely knew. Mink still felt the need to hide it, so no one said anything. As long as it didn’t affect anyone, they just kept an eye on him when they knew he was usin.
Still choking and sputtering from a particularly big line, a stagehand burst through the door without knocking. The omega nearly sent his stash bag flying in his haste to re-conceal his goods, “Holy crap, knock please!”
“Sorry, sir!” The stagehand ducked back outside, leaving the door cracked to speak through, “Stage time in 5!”
“Okay, thank you!” The omega said a little ruder than he intended to. All he needed was the tabloids getting confirmation of his extracurricular activities.
The door closed, Mink looked at his eyes in the vanity mirror. Normally he was able to let things kick in before he began his performance, get a feel for what the vibe of the evening was going to be before he let loose.
This wasn’t the first time he’d had to get started mostly on his own. He was already feeling the coke, he was mainly just waiting on the pills.
Danny burst into the dressing room next, “Come on, let’s get out there,” He extended a hand toward the omega.
“Good lord, you people can’t leave me alone for ten minutes,” Mink playfully called back, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the betas hand.
-.-
As per usual, he shed most of his clothing throughout the show. His mesh tank top and jeans were chucked into the audience in the heat of the moment, but nobody was complaining about it.
He felt jittery. He had a death grip on the microphone, for fear of dropping it. It wasn’t noticeable from far away, but it was a safe bet the cameras were going to pick up his shaking.
Between songs, he picked up the water bottle at the edge of the stage, Danny meeting him there and giving him a concerned look. Mink just smiled back, not feeling it was a good time to disclose his racing heart.
They had managed to get through the set and off stage before Mink had to take a moment, leaning his weight against the wall until he slid to the floor. His heart was pounding and he was dripping sweat. He didn’t feel like he could get in a breath big enough.
“God, what a show,” Vance clapped his hands, “Great job, boys. You’ve got the next two days to play hookie in Vegas before we move on. I’m heading back to the hotel if anyone wants a lift.”
Mink raised his hand, finally gaining the attention of their manager, “What’s wrong with you?” Vance questioned tensely.
“I’m fine, I’m just tired,” the omega panted, running his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I’ll take that ride though,”
The three sized him up, the looming energy and pheromones making his gut squirm. “He was acting weird on stage too. Maybe he’s sick.”
“His pupils are blown. He’s probably on something.” Pascal commented, squatting down infront of him, lifting the omegas eyelid with his thumb. “What did you take?”
“Nothing, bitch,” he swiped his hand away, using his leverage against the wall to pick himself up, “I’m just tired. Let’s go.”
It took serious effort to get back to the dressing room to grab his things, he felt like he was coordinating in 4D trying to find the room. He was alone, he didn’t know where his band mates disappeared to.
Maybe he could just lay down for a second, catch his breath. He was only able to blink before Danny was infront of him, gently slapping him awake. “Dude, seriously, what did you take?”
He sounded so scared, Mink almost didn’t want to exasperate that with his answer, “I don’t know; coke and some pills,” he leaned his face into the betas callused palm.
“Ethan, oh my god...” Danny cupped his face with both hands, kissing him on the forehead before stepping away and pulling out his phone with shaking hands.
He woke up again in the back of an ambulance, a thin white blanket over his lower half, 10 sets of stickers and cords on his torso. He was alone, aside from the paramedic, typing things out on his iPad. His head was rolled back, resting on his shoulder and the uncomfortably full pillows.
“I’m fine,” He noticed at that point he had an oxygen mask strapped to his face, “Take me back.”
“No can do bud.” The medic said a little too cockily, “You OD’d on opioids, you need to go to the hospital. You weren’t supposed to wake up quite yet.”
“I’m not overdosing, I just need to sleep it off,” his hands scrubbed clumsily at the mask, before the medic gripped his wrists and placed them in his lap.
“If you weren’t on anything, the narcan wouldn’t have woken you up.” He continued typing on the iPad, as the omega was transported to the Las Vegas ER.
— . — . —
“We need to get the fuck out of here, this place is nuts,” Mink whisper yelled at the beta through gritted teeth, “I haven’t been allowed to leave the room until ‘my alpha’ gets here, what the fuck is that about?”
“Yeah, Nevada is pretty conservative about omega rights.” The beta replied distractedly, “How are you feeling? You really scared us last night,”
“I’m fine. I promise, I’m okay. We can get back on the road tomorrow and-“
“No. No, Vance already cancelled the rest of the tour.” Danny cut him off, settling himself in the chair next to the hospital bed.
“What? Why? What is he telling people?” The omegas mind raced.
“It’s - It’s majority unrelated. Don’t worry about it.” Danny was somewhere else entirely, it really concerned the omega. “They said you’ll be released when the tests come back, then we can head home.”
“Wait, What are you talking about? Why else would the tour be cancelled?” Mink searched his friends eyes for clues, but only found more confusion.
— . — . —
“Bill HB 4XX passes, to be enacted …” The headline left no room for confusion. Come this time next year, Mink had to be property if he wanted to be in the United States.
He didn’t. At least, not more than he wanted to be a free and independent individual. He couldn’t have crashed in a worse place. Nevada had these laws proposed years ago, and had been practicing them within their own state borders. The band took advantage of Mink going down, and signed the paperwork.
He was now owned by his label. In every sense of the word. Danny and Pascal allegedly had 33% “custody” over him, but that just made him hate them all equally. How could they do this to him?
He sat criss cross in his bed, scrolling through the phone he was finally given back. He knew he looked like shit, any idiot could tell he’d been crying. He was adorned in a soft t shirt and loose sweapants with the drawstring removed.
They were still allowing him to be released in a few hours, but it would be to the custody of a fucking Omega Facility. He hated them all in that moment more than he’d ever hated anyone.
A knocking on the open door startled Mink, but he made sure not to look up. “Hey, are you packed?” It was Danny again. The other two hadn’t come to see him since the ambulance took him away.
He ignored the beta, his scrolling turning a little more aggressive.
“Mink, I’m sorry. It would’ve needed to happen anyway, now you can go to rehab and be out by next tour season-“
Mink picked up the TV control off the side table and chucked it at the guitarist, who barely managed to duck out of the way before it shattered against the wall, “Get the fuck out.”
They were leaving him in Nevada. The other three would be going back home to New York, leaving their most vulnerable member behind.
He’d heard horror stories about omega facilities. Omegas locked in cages unless and until they were being bred, kept naked, being fed bread and rice.
“Please, just hear me out-“ He took another step closer, Mink picked up his water pitcher and reared back to throw it, but the beta raised his hands and backed out, “Just call me when you’re ready to talk. I made sure to look into the facility, they’ll take good care of you-”
“Lose my fucking number.” The omega spat back.
