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No one says their real names anymore. It’s safer that way, or at least it had been at first— by now BL/ind knows each of their faces by code-name, anyway. But they’d grown accustomed to it, living this many years in the desert, away from the stage lights and stardom they once knew. So, even to each other, they’re Kobra Kid and Party Poison. No one says their real names anymore.
Except for in hushed whispers in the dead of night, in secluded corners of the diner under tattered blankets, they’re Mikey and Gerard, breathy and desperate and tragic.