Citizens
Who: Angelo and OPEN TO ALL!
Where: One More Round
When: late-ish
Three nights a week, though they were never enough to sate him, Angelo was here. 'Here' was a stool taken from the bar inside the Round, the house lights down to create a sea of silhouettes for him to watch even as he sat beneath one of the few lights that was turned up. He'd wondered before just what it would look like from out there, to be one part of the shadows that rippled with life as they moved between tables, fetched new drinks, and sometimes even struck a match or a lighter. Those were his favorite moments, the split-second birth and death of light on the floor, and he'd seen a few tonight. More than usual, which was the strange part.
The Round seemed busy tonight, and not just in the usual sense that had plenty of bodies in search of a cheap drink or respite from the weather outdoors. They weren't there to see the Seraphim, were they? Naw, Angelo told himself as he coaxed a rising arc of notes from his trumpet, getting playful with it at the end of the current song and smiling sheepishly as scattered applause carried up, They ain't here for us. "Well alright," he said as he leaned forward into the microphone, "Must be some good specials tonight if I'm seein' all you out here. House got themselves some fresh homebrew in, hey?" Laughing warmly for a moment, Angelo flexed the fingers of one hand on his trumpet's keys, reaching down for his drink and taking a quick sip. "Now I may not be the biggest fan of tradition? But sometimes, some of 'em is worth keepin'... so here's my own. A tale to tell, somethin' that's been turnin' my wheels."
He sat back with a smile, raising the trumpet to his lips as the band preluded him. The music was soft but steady in it's tempo, Angelo's contribution flowing like water to weave a melody that made him ache with the longing he'd put into the notes, and for long minutes he was content to just let it build like that. Eventually, though, he sat forward with a soft smile revealing itself where his trumpet had been, eagerness shining in his brown eyes. "Just a man, but he was in love," he began simply, "Just a woman? No such thing, my friends... but she was in love." It might've been a strange beginning to anyone familiar with Angelo's works, but it was just a beginning. Who knew where things might go? Not me. "S'like all he needed was caught tight, distilled in one person, an' the funny thing 'bout that sort of feelin'? We always know it can't last when we feel it. S'too high, people, can't no one stay at the top of the mountain forever. But we never admit it, not even to ourselves. He wasn' no different, jus' a man..." Angelo trailed off with a faint smile.
"Jus' a man, with all our mistakes. Never thinkin' that even if he fell, he could climb back up if he wanted to. S'the problem, right? When you slip, gettin' back to where you was looks ten times as far as the first time you went," he mused, watching the shadowed crowd thoughtfully. This story, maybe it meant something to someone out there, but it was for him as much as any of them. "But he wasn' lettin' himself think of what'd happen then, not when now was as good as a thing could be. Wakin' late in a tangle of legs an' bedsheets, learnin' each other by touch alone, seein' such softness in each other that it felt like they could fold together." He smiled achingly, sighing a soft rasp of breath into the mic as his eyes shut for a moment. "When you bathe in sunlight each new day? When you walk under moon an' stars an' make them jealous as they curse the distance 'tween themselves? Well, that tab hurts to settle, people," Angelo eventually continued, "S'truth here, truth in a fable maybe... but one day she was gone. She was so distant that them stars who was laughin' at this boy's misery seemed closer. He never knew where she went, or why. All he knew was the last night together before the first day alone."
Up came the trumpet as Angelo sucked in a deep breath, venting it into a slow exhale that fueled low, lonely notes as they overlapped with a downturn to the bass and drums. His face lined with feeling as Angelo played, closing his eyes again to envision the man in his story, to channel not just the loneliness, but the raw feeling of absence he spoke of. "That last night? Kisses like rainfall," he said when he broke from the trumpet, "Showerin' over his brow and cheeks, down his chin an' neck. Whispers, ghosts of words hauntin' him into the next day, promisin' he'd never be alone. Slow touches, finger by finger, that left him breathless an' shivering as she showed him how well she'd learned him... an' that first mornin'? So cold, so quiet, so still that he almost wished away the night before it jus' so it'd hurt less. Forgettin' when you felt good, it's a cheap way to numb you when you feelin' bad."
He teetered on the edge of raising the horn again, getting it halfway up again before Angelo shook his head and lowered it with a frown. "How could she lie?" he asked in a firmer tone, as if the story was unknown even to him, "How could she jus' walk away from someone who knew her so true? He asked himself that time an' again, wore his voice down to a whisper like hers had been, stared at the ground as day turned to night an' back to day, just watching his shadow stretch an' shrink cuz it was better than lookin' up and not seein' her." Another sad smile blossomed as Angelo just sat, floating in the music around him for a moment. "He din' know where he was when he looked up, and through the sorrow and the loss? He wondered if... if maybe he'd been the one to leave. If she'd wanted to fall into him, if he'd dreamed it all, if there was anything he knew that wasn't her. Because without her? Damn right he felt like he din' know nothin'."
The sadness didn't fade entirely, but it subsided with a bloom of warmth in his eyes gradually. "Sometimes, though, even in this city? The world'll answer us when we got those questions. For him, the answer was rainfall... rainfall like the sweetest kisses he'd ever felt, the last ones he'd need, soakin' him to the skin and washin' away tears, plastering hair to his head like a soft touch smoothin' it down." A hint of teeth flashed in his smile as Angelo sat forward, slipping his free hand around the microphone stand. "It was her; his love, his heart, his promise that he'd been a fool to ever doubt. This strange place? These towers of stone, angry eyes on strange faces, grey days without the sun? They was her without him. And he... he was surrounded by her, but removed from her. So he walked. He stood on feet that felt weak, he breathed deep of this air that was her breath, an' he walked. He knew these streets, they was every curve an' slope of his lover. He felt the cold days as she shivered around him, as both of them wished they could warm each other. She was his city, he was her citizen." It seemed a strange ending to a stranger tale as the band wound down, and Angelo could've left it like that? But he never did.
"He's still out there, y'know," he told the crowd, "Walkin' our roads, passin' us by with a smile every time we frown or flinch or cry. Baskin' in this rain we run from, this rain that never stops because his love never stops longin' for him. Watch sharp enough, you jus' might see him smilin' so soft that it'd break these towers down around us, if it'd bring her back to him. Smile back, people, let him know you heard of his loss, help him keep climbin'... he'll help you too." He sat back at last as the lights came back to their normal dim setting, smiling at scattered applause. "Thanks, y'all. I know stickin' with us can be a chore, but I hope you don't count the night wasted. We's Angel and the Seraphim, let yourself get drenched tonight," Angelo said in parting, hopping off the stage and moving languidly towards the bar.
.
As promised, Shoshannah was seated at the bar, on the same stool that she'd been last time. She thought it was lucky that she'd managed to find the same seat open and even if she'd wanted to take a seat closer to the stage, the opportunity was too good to pass up.
With the whirlwind kind of day she'd had, she also thought it lucky hat she'd managed to stay awake through his story this time. Between her chat with Miss Amelia Wright and Ian at the Drake that morning and the events of the afternoon, including convincing her father (with Ian's help) that she should stay at the Drake, and finding a bookstore that was willing to give her a trial day on the job, Shoshannah could feel her sleepiness threatening to take over.
It was a good thing she had Angelo's story to focus on, even if the ending didn't sit right with her. His story about the girl had ended happily, with hope and promise. This one was much, much different. She felt a blush start on her cheeks at the very first mention of legs under bedsheets, then felt it intensify at all the terms he used to elaborate on their story. She was hit with a very real pang of jealousy when he spoke of how well the two story-people knew each other. Would she ever get close enough to someone to know them like he'd known her? Her condition had kept her far away from those she might have called lovers, the most she'd gotten was a few good flirtatious glances and quips here and there...
Shoshannah shook her head, Thinking about that part of the story was steadily becoming harder for her to do with a straight face. She needed to stop, think about something else. So she focused on the absence of his lover, even if it was a much sadder part of the story than her own thoughts had been before. Sure, there was a hint of hope in it, but Shoshannah could only focus on this sad, sad man without the love of his life...and wonder if that sad man was Angelo, somehow. The thought was unsettling as it burrowed into her stomach and stayed there, nagging at her. It wasn't her business, she shouldn't ask...she shouldn't even be thinking about it, but how could she not? Had his heart been broken like that?
As Angelo came closer to the bar, Shoshannah managed to snap out of her own musings and sit a little straighter. She wore the same black dress as she did on her first time here, but it was considerably more wrinkled. Without her jacket on and with the house lights up, it would be easy to see that the paint had stained her skin slightly, still leaving traces of the beautiful vines Angelo had painted there the night before.
"Now I know you said there was going to be a musician here who keeps rambling on and on, but I think you had the wrong night in mind. That's not what I heard up there." Shoshannah searched for Angelo's eyes, the smile on her face warm, open, and for a few moments she forgot the worries she'd been thinking of just minutes earlier. "That story was beautiful, Angelo." She said, voice softer now. "Really beautiful."
.
Whatever drink Angelo had been considering ordering after his set vanished from his mind as he first caught sight of Shannah lingering at the bar, his features lighting up and his pace quickening to reach her. "M'glad you liked it," he greeted with a grin, ignoring any ideas about being too familiar as he reached out for her hand. Her arm caught his notice, of course, and he couldn't help liking the idea that he'd left a mark on her. Literally.
"You din' think I was just sorta... talkin' aimlessly for a bit?" Angelo ventured, grinning teasingly as he slipped in next to her at the bar, "Felt that way to me, but it tends to. I guess I'd know if I was when the firs' bottle got flung up at me." To him, the sounds of the bar around them dimmed as Angelo looked her up and down; seeing the dress but not the wrinkles, the smile without the personal doubts. Seeing her. "S'good to see you again, Sho," he said earnestly, "I was... well? I was really hopin' I would."
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Anything she'd considered saying or doing before Angelo reached for her hand was gone now. She more than happily laced her fingers with his, watching the way their hands intertwined with a sort of happiness she hadn't really felt before. Or at least not in a very, very long time.
"Of course you weren't just talking aimlessly. You have an aim. These are your stories. Who knows them better than you?" Shoshannah turned in her seat so she could face him in the one beside her, still holding onto his hand. Cherishing the contact. "The past two times I've seen you, you've ended your stories with something that...well, it sounds like you don't expect the crowd to like them or want to hear them. Why do you end them that way?" It bothered her that he didn't seem to think his stories touched the crowd. She was living, breathing proof that his words meant something to someone. "They wouldn't be here if they didn't want to hear you."
.
Not for the first time, Angelo had to really consider the question. Why did he always apologize at the end of a set? If he and the boys were unwelcome, they wouldn't have their usual three weekly nights here. They wouldn't be in the midst of a decently sized crowd, or getting even the loose applause they had tonight. He supposed it came down to confidence, or a lack of it; an underlying belief that for all he loved his own arts, no one else would.
"I guess..." Angelo murmured, raising Shoshannah's hand to study how it fit with his own, "Some nights I don' think they do. First month or so I was doin' this, some ol' boy in the crowd cracked me with a bottle right after our set. The fellas, well they paid him back in kind, took me to the hospital, ever'thing got sorted." His expression made it clear how even the return of violence against someone who'd hurt him could upset Angelo, and he shook his head after a moment. "S'like, I hope for ones like you? I hope every night. But you a rarity, Sho. Stars at noon, 'member?"
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For the second time that night, Shoshannah lost all thought. Someone had hit Angelo with a bottle?! He'd had to go to the hospital?! She wondered idly if her father had been on call the night that Angelo had been hurt, or had maybe even been the one to stitch him back up. Not that it mattered or anything, but if she was going to entrust Angelo's safety to any of the doctors at Eidolon General, it would be her father and no one else.
He was talking about her, he'd said her name, said 'stars at noon', but she barely heard it. All she could think about was the sight of Angelo, bloodied and covered in glass shards. She could feel her hand start to shake slightly and gripped tighter onto Angelo's own to stop it. "Do you..remember the doctor you saw that night?" She felt sick to her stomach, a lack of color playing at her cheeks where a blush had once stood. Why would someone try to hurt him? Not try, no, succeed in hurting him? What had Angelo done to upset that boy so much?
.
"Naw," Angelo answered, giving a reassuring smile and squeezing Shannah's hand gently. "I don' remember a whole lot of that night, really. Told a tale, played some songs? Then it's all kinda a blur until... the next day." He could remember little details, like telling his bandmates to stop beating on his attacker as he bled, but the thread of the night was lost.
Angelo slipped from his seat to move a little closer to Shoshannah, leaning on the bar as he tucked his head right in near hers and gave a soft, soothing sound that would've been lost in the bar, but for their closeness. "S'okay, Shannah, it is. All that told me when it happened is that some people is scared to have hope, to believe there's more to this life than what they can see. I may spend some nights doubtin' that folks wanna hear me? But I never doubt that it's worth doin'." He'd met her, after all, he'd learned subtle lessons about his fellow man.
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She wanted to believe him, really she did, but that just wasn't ok. Not in Shoshannah's book. Especially not when Angelo didn't seem like the type to hurt a fly, let alone antagonize that. There was something so wrong about the whole idea of it that even Shoshannah's optimism, as relentless as it was, was shaken slightly.
But it was just like Angelo to know exactly what to do to change her perspective again. She was still saddened by the very real fact that that had happened to him, but there he was, close again and telling her things were all right. "Well...not that it really matters or anything, but I kind of hope it was my father who got to help you. If you went to Eidolon General, it's possible."
Shoshannah decided that now was as good a time as any to bring up her next question. She was level-headed again, focused intently on Angelo, and he was close enough for it not to be overheard by others. "So...you know how I said that I was the girl in your other story? Are you...are you the man in this one?" There was hope in her eyes, hope that he told her no. Hope that he hadn't been broken like that man had.
.
There had been times in the past, infrequent though they were, that people would talk with Angelo about his tales, and he always relished them. The idea of individual interpretation was a fascinating one, and while he never changed his own core view of a painting or composition? Another perspective could shed light on themes Angelo hadn't even intended to show. But even with all of that, it was rare for him to be so touched by a question about the stories he wove.
It showed in his eyes,in his smile, and the way he reached his free hand up to smooth away the last faint line of concern in Shoshannah's brow, shaking his head slightly. "It's not me," he confirmed with a little grin, "I love this city, Sho. I see the things I talk 'bout happen in it. But it hasn't hurt me like that, an' if it did? Love's stronger, right?" His hand smoothed upwards from her brow, stroking her hair back easily as Angelo mused on how he could get used to this so easily, just being close to her. "Sometime, when you wanna hear it? I'll tell you my story, the one 'bout me."
.
The tension she'd been carrying in her shoulders, in her face, all melted away in a big sigh. It wasn't him. Good. As lovely as that tale had been, it would break her heart to think that Angelo was walking the streets, missing someone so badly like that man was.
Angelo wasn't the only one caught in his musings. Something about him just relaxed her. She felt so at ease there and she, too, was thinking of how quickly she'd become accustomed to these casual, reassuring touches from him. She mirrored his smile, tilting her head back a little more to look more easily into his eyes. "I want to hear it now, but I guess a bar's not the perfect place for a talk like that. Besides, it's your story to tell so you should get to choose the where and when."
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Maybe it was the angle she looked up at him from, maybe the shine in her eyes or the ease and relief she spoke with, but Angelo had to curb his reflex to kiss her again in that instant. "Give me that option an' I'm gonna say now," he warned her playfully, "Drag you on outta here for another late night down at my place... you make me kinda selfish, girl. A good kind, you know? But I feel like I'm doin' wrong when I wanna have you all to myself."
If he was fighting the urge to feel her breath on his lips? The least he could do was indulge his other urge, the one that wanted unfettered honesty. "So you choose how selfish I get to be, dig? Pick then when, I'll pick the where, an' we'll have a damn fine time no matter what combo we end up with," Angelo promised, making himself be content with an idle play of his fingers against hers.
.
She felt the color return to her cheeks, felt her lips pull into a smile, and secretly, she really liked that she could make Angelo feel selfish. He certainly made her feel that way. And another long night at his apartment wasn't sounding bad at all right about now. Angelo wasn't the only one fighting an instinct, but Shoshannah wasn't as strong as Angelo at the moment. She was eager, anxious to try again the kiss that had been so unbelievable the night before. So she leaned a little closer, heart pounding in her chest, until her lips found his in a soft kiss.
When she pulled back, her eyes were dancing in the dim light. "My choice for when is right now, but I guess I can think up another time if I absolutely have to." She laughed and it was just as soft as her kiss, finally feeling her heart start to slow to it's normal pace again.
.
She didn't get to pull back immediately, not once the contact happened. Angelo couldn't help a pleased sigh that slipped past his lips as he settled his free hand at the small of her back, holding Shannah close and shivering slightly. He turned where he stood, drawing her away from her seat slightly and into him, almost losing his actual line of thought against the urge to keep her there.
So he counted himself as lucky when she broke away, knowing just how intoxicating this could all become if he let it. And good lord did he want to let it... "Let's linger a lil' bit," he murmured, "I already got blinders on, Shannah, so setting don't matter much. S'you I'm seein', not the backdrop." In contrast to the slowing rate of Shoshannah's heart? Angelo's had sped up with a strength and fervor, buouyed by the spark he felt every time he saw her, and it showed in his toothy grin and warm stare.
.
With Angelo's help, Shoshannah found her feet and stood pressed against him, body almost slacking just to let him hold her up. His words swirled around her, filling her head and keeping her focused, for now. The blush on her cheeks was still there, the spark in her eyes still shaking. "You're not the only one with blinders on," She murmured back.
She hated to break this sort of spell that they both seemed so keen to be under, but she could feel her condition playing up. It was a miracle she hadn't lost herself during the kiss and held that attributable to Angelo alone. He was such a strong, settled force for her to latch onto. She knew he'd be there before and after her condition affected her, which meant a lot to her, especially in keeping her around for longer. "Angelo..." She seemed slightly embarrassed when she spoke, "If we kiss again...and I'm not there when we stop? Don't freak out or anything, please. I'm surprised it hasn't happened yet but...if it does, I'm sure you'll know exactly what to do to bring me back again."
She hadn't given thought to the idea that it might not happen.
.
Just like the night before this one, the second kiss wasn't aimed at Shoshannah's lips. It was pressed to her forehead gently, revealing a warm grin as Angelo withdrew. Maybe it was his way of showing gratitude, or reassuring her when he could see her doubts so clearly. Maybe he just loved the feel of her skin under his lips. "Hey now," he chided gently, shaking his head at her, "You ain't gon' scare me off, promise. If you slip away? I'll jus' cup my hands an' let you pool like rain."
It was silly of him, overly sentimental, but he couldn't ignore how rattled Shoshannah became where her ailment was concerned, and besides... he meant it. All she'd ever told him was how people lived at a distance from her, how they withdrew when this happened. How, even if she hadn't said it directly, she lived a lonely life because of it. "You ain't alone, girl. An' you not gonna be, for as long as you want me close, I'll be close."
.
Whatever his reason for it, Shoshannah cherished the feel of it. How odd it was that one simple action could calm her so thoroughly. She closed her eyes for a moment, stepping in closer to wrap her arms around him and press her face to his chest again. She took deep, slow, steady breaths, filled with his scent, and held onto that in hopes that it would calm her more and keep the burgeoning tears from her eyes.
When she felt composed enough, she pulled back, stood on her hip toes, and pressed a kiss to Angelo's cheek gently. "And if I don't see a place in the future where you aren't close?" Now who was being sentimental? "Looks like you're making me selfish too."
.
There would be a place like that, Angelo knew. Or at least that was what he believed. For however amazing this moment felt? She wouldn't want a long-term future spent with him. No one did when it came to the pauper of an artist, but Angelo didn't let it drag him down. He could make a difference for her with the time he had.
His doubts nver even made it onto his face as Angelo grinned wide, the kissed cheek bunching in time with the other. "If it never comes? It never comes. And how blessed we'd be for such a thing," he murmured genuinely, "An' you allowed to be, you know... ever'one should be a lil' selfish when it comes to the folk they want in their lives." And while the blinders of his hyperfocus were very firmly in place, somehow an odd detail of the outside world managed to dig itself in as Angelo ticked his eyes past Shannah, spotting something, no, someone fleetingly familiar out on the bar's floor.
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Shoshannah didn't catch a change in him, but it was probably because she didn't want to catch a change. She was in love with this moment, just the two of them with nothing else around that mattered. Until something else did matter. What was he looking at?
She turned a little to cast a glance over her shoulder, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Just people. People she didn't know. Turning back to him, she tilted her head up and searched for his eyes again. "Is something wrong?"
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"Naw, nothin' at all," Angelo said as he spied Elle, then looked back to Shoshannah and shook his head, "Spied someone I ain't seen in a while, is all." And it was a pleasant surprise, catching a glimpse of the girl who'd bought one of his pieces. "S'always good when I can see the good folks in this city again, you know?" he asked rhetorically, returning his attention to Shoshannah with an easy, beatific smile, "Like you brought 'em in with you tonight, girl... like a tide."
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Shoshannah turned once more to look over her shoulders, trying to see where he was looking, who he had been looking for. "If they're your friends, why don't we go see them?" She offered, now back and looking up at him again. Shoshannah was always more than happy to meet someone new and, this time, it might come along with the privilege of seeing how Angelo would introduce her to a friend of his. But a slightly unfavorable thought passed through her head. Maybe he'd want to go see his friend by himself? She was basically monopolizing him here. "Or I can wait here and you can go see them." She'd really only come here for him, but that didn't mean his time had to be spent with her only. There were plenty of people here that should deserve the chance to compliment Angelo on his performance...even if the idea of him leaving caused a clench in her stomach.
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"Now where'd the fun be in that?" Angelo asked, his eyebrows raising questioningly at Shannah's second option. He didn't see a plain or obvious reason as to why he'd be moving off without her, really. It wasn't as if Elle had been a lover, and even if she had? Well, it could've been Lenore sitting over there for all Angelo minded, he found no reason to seek space in any event.
Leaning down and in close like he might kiss her, Angelo instead bumped his forehead against Shannah's and grinned in close for her. "C'mon," he said quietly, "She's a sweetheart, I think she's gon' like you." His claimed hand squeezed at hers as Angelo turned to move away from the bar, trying to keep Shannah close even as his mind turned. What was he supposed to introduce her as? A friend didn't do Shoshannah justice, they weren't actual lovers, and something like 'girlfriend' just struck him as silly. He'd just have to hope for the right word for the astonishing woman to settle in his mind by the time he reached Elle.
.
Shoshannah fully expected another kiss, had felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest, had really wanted another kiss. She'd closed her eyes and was leaning in closer with him, but when it was their foreheads that touched instead of their lips, Shoshannah's eyes flashed open again. But that grin of his...That grin took away any disappointment Shoshannah might have felt.
Her eyes danced again, locked onto his only as he expertly deflected Shoshannah's worries about Elle and any sort of history he might have had with her. Her laugh was easy as she walked along with him, realizing that she'd never been so proud as she was now, with Angelo's hand wrapped around hers and him guiding her to one of his friends.
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Ian had followed her. It was out of character for him, taking things out of context instead of setting them up to play out on their own. His curiosity for where she was headed had won out over the typical "sit back and wait" attitude. If she caught him, he already had a million reasons as to why he was there. If all else failed he'd tell her what he'd told her father, he was going to keep an eye on her.
Keeping an eye on her was what he did, watching her at the bar rapt in the music and story he didn't understand and frankly didn't care for. Why couldn't the band just play a song rather than this back and forth? Still he lurked in back shadows, watching her.
When the band leader approached her, it was easy to tell who he was. The supposed "Angelo." It was written all over Shoshannah's face. Fantastic. Ian wasn't impressed, but the way he looked at her, their casual touches? That irked him more than he'd imagined. She was his toy to play with, and Ian did not share well. Not well at all.
.
The guy on stage had been perfectly right about one fact amidst his strange stories and floating music; the Round had gotten a fresh batch of home-made liquor that day, courtesy of Dutch. He'd lugged over a few barrels of gin and moonshine earlier that evening, just after closing his shop, and Dutch was a man who always sampled his own wares.
Of course, after several hours of said sampling? Dutch was more than a little drunk. So much so that all he'd gleaned from the story was loss, and some inane idea that there could still be love without someone to give it to. Sober, the idea might've made more sense, but drunk? It was bullshit, and it soured Dutch's mood. Of course, his mood only grew worse as he scowled over the edge of his glass at Ian, recognizing the guy in a heartbeat with how out of place he looked, removed from the safety of the Drake. Fucking lapdog on my turf?
Dutch rose from his table, shouldering right past another patron and ignoring the muted curses he got for spilling the guy's drink on him. "Ian fucking Sullivan," he slurred in greeting as he approached, "You run out of dirty cash to wipe your ass with?"
.
It was hard not to noticed Dutch as the larger man came stumbling towards him, blocking Ian's line of sight of Shoshannah and Angelo. There was no mistaking the man, obviously worn from a rough life, most of which seemed to be spent in a bottle. There were rumors that the Walkers had taken what belonged to him, but when it came to the Walker children no one was really certain where they came from. In some way, Ian assumed that actually gave him some sort of connection to the lost daughters and sons of the Walkers, no one knew where he came from either. This man though, was a hooligan at best, someone the family kept on because he was good at what he did, not because he was worth much, and now he was drawing unwanted attention to Ian's operation. Ian literally had to bit his tongue to keep from scowling at Dutch. Instead he plastered on a look of mock surprise and innocence. "I can't even imagine what you'd mean by that Dutch."
Knuckling his other hand down on the tabletop, Dutch fixed a sneer on Ian that was anything but pleasant, a look made all the worse by Dutch's own appearance. He was a menacing man when the mood struck him, and though he was unaware of it, a few of the regulars around the table were watching him now with a mix of amusement and apprehension. Dutch seldom started fights in the Round, but it was commonplace for him to goad another patron into one just for the chance to finish it. "Sure you can't, lapdog," he spat, "What, the easy ass on your payroll get tired of your wandering hands? Wine cellar get locked 'fore you could raid it?"
He didn't actually know Ian well, had only ever dealt with the guy in passing when meeting Family representatives to go over his inventory, but if Ian ran the Drake? Dutch knew he was rotten to the core. "You're slumming 'round here, Sullivan," Dutch went on, pausing to toss back the rest of his drink, "An' none of us likes your upscale ass sneering down your nose."
Ian could sense it, that Dutch was tempting him to start a fight that the larger man could finish. As a result he didn't rise to the bait. He never rose to the bait. Fighting was not his game, nor would it ever be. Taking a drink from his glass, ever the portrait of calm, he just shook his head a little. "That's hardly the case. On any count. And there wasn't an inch of upscale sneering. Just enjoying the show, and the drink." And watching my plaything being toyed with in the corner by trash. Ian was really far from amused to see that the couple he'd been watching had shifted even closer together. Not amused at all.
"So what's the damned case then?" Dutch snarled, not liking the dismissive air Ian was giving him one bit, "Cuz from over here? You ain't welcome, Sullivan. Not by me, not by these other folks, or the Angel an' his boys. Doubt the barkeep wants a dime you got on you, even." That much at least, Dutch figured to be true. The owner of the Round wouldn't turn away business, sure, but he also wouldn't do much to warn Ian about the risks he faced by hanging around here. "Inside this door, you're a part of the problem. An' we handle our own problems." Was Sullivan looking past him? Watching someone else, maybe? Dutch wanted to turn and look, but a mixture of intoxication and experience told him not to. Inside the Round, it was when you looked away that the first punch got thrown at you.
Ian stayed calm, far from interested in a fight. "I figure I'm as much a problem as you are Dutch. I run a hotel, that's it. You seem to have some idea that I'm far more interesting than I really am." Ian's charm was cranked up a little, not that he truly expected it to work on Dutch. The crowd shifted again and he was able to spot Shoshannah one more time, this time lips locked with that character. His gaze lingered a little longer than he'd planned, but only because it kept him from scowling. In an instant his plans for the girl changed. If he couldn't have her to himself? He'd break her on the way down. "Isn't that Angel there?" he asked innocently gesturing with his glass towards the duo.
His impatience was was bubbling up, threatening to overflow into violence with every bit of flippancy Ian gave, and Dutch was starting to think that he wouldn't necessarily mind being thrown out for giving the first punch. "Only thing we've got in common is who we work for," he snarled, "Difference is? You like their money, shitheel. I'd sooner choke you with it than spend it." It was hard to keep from just swatting Ian's glass away from his hand, following it with Dutch's own glass to Ian's face, but Dutch managed. He could talk some shit, sure, maybe even slug the guy, but seriously fucking him up? There'd be repercussions. "And you leave the fuckin' Angel out of this, you hear?" Dutch snapped in a louder voice, angrily stabbing a pointing finger at Ian, "That boy's a better class of people than you can wrap your greasy fucking head around. So do the smart thing, Sullivan. Walk 'fore you find out why I got my nickname."
Ian shrugged, not phased by Dutch's alpha male show. "We're all the same Dutch, Everyone's got affiliations somewhere." He finished off his drink and set it on a nearby table. There wasn't a need to stay longer, Ian knew who the competition was, and just how deep things went. That was enough to work with for now. "Even your boy Angel. Everyone's on someone's side, everyone wants something, the only difference is what. Money, power, salvation, or maybe just a pretty girl, it's still something." Smoothing his hands across his suit, Ian turned for the door. "Have a good night," he called over his shoulder.
.
The Round was almost how she thought it would be. On first impressions, it didn't seem so bad. True, there were patrons who looked quite intimate with bar brawls and the ones who didn't seem able to say no to that one drink too many but there were also those that appeared to be nice enough. It didn't exactly fit with the deplorable, irredeemably seedy image she'd been painted when told to stay far away from such establishments. After all, there was music, and Angelo had certainly been one of those who was perfectly nice.
Truth be told, the fact that it wasn't a place she usually frequented had been part of its appeal. It meant she wasn't really herself. Ultimately flawed logic yet it didn't matter. The temporary reinvention was a release from her own trappings.
She purposely flitted away from the bar. Not only was she not interested in the alcohol, and doubted that anyone would serve her anyway, but she concluded that the majority of the more unsavory folk would probably be gathered there. A table nearer to the stage was a much better option.
Elbows on the tabletop and chin resting on her hands, she listened with rapt attention. He was a gifted, powerful storyteller. She had cheated herself by not coming to watch a performance earlier. A few lines were scribbled down in the notebook, using her own shorthand to keep up. To be saved for posterity along with catalogues of conversations.
Still, she felt like an impostor. Her spirited round of applause, her beam at others as she glanced at them, expecting them to share in her delight, it didn't quite fit. It was a bump back to earth.
.
Danny should have been somewhere nicer tonight. He should have been at the Drake or one of the few upscale places in town that were actually open but instead he was here at the Round. After the past few days he just wasn't ready to go toe to toe with Cheyenne again. Even if he knew he'd have to sooner rather than later.
The last time he was here it didn't go well, which is what kept him from sitting at the bar unless it was absolutely necessary. So far the waitress had done just fine, bringing him round after round. With bout of kidnapping his wife had put him through, he'd switched from beer to the hard stuff. Four or five drinks in he barely noticed that the guy on stage was even talking.
Danny had spotted her when she crossed the room. From his place on the against the wall towards the stage he had a good view of her table throughout the show, and while she watched Angel in rapt awe, he watched her. She was young, much younger than him, but he couldn't shake how much she looked like the girl, DG, just more grown up. When she turned looking for another smiling face he did his best to look slightly approachable, although that was hard with his general gruff exterior. Still, he didn't take his eyes off her, too drunk to care that it might be strange. Had he let Janey take that girl in? He could be looking at this girl in a few years, sitting across his dinner table, just like that young girl had during breakfast. It was haunting.
.
Ah, so there was someone who might have appreciated the show as much as she had. The man wasn't exactly overflowing with the same of sort enchantment she had but at least he hadn't sneered, shook his head or ignored her completely. That was something. Gaze going down to the table, she smiled to herself then. It was funny how such a small, simple gesture could make someone feel a little less lost in space.
As she started to drift back into her own world, she doodled a series of stars around Angelo's words. More distractions, and it struck her as fitting. It would have been a moment of contentment if not for the slightly uncomfortable feeling that began to creep over her. It wasn't an internal unease. It was an acute sense of being watched. Trying to be casual about it, she scanned the bar to see if there was a reason for it or if it was just one of those odd feelings everyone got from time to time.
She was surprised when she caught the same man's eye. Probably a coincidence rather than him actually looking at her. She went back to her doodling but the feeling lingered. The second time she looked, he still was. Now he really had her attention, she saw something different. He looked somewhat intimidating. Despite that, she gave him a quick wave. Partly not judging a book by its cover, partly a signal that she'd noticed him staring.
.
Her wave shook Danny from his reverie and in a moment he realized how ridiculous he must have looked just staring at her like that. She was a child compared to him. He did his best to look less like a creep and more friendly even if the smile on his face didn't seem to fit perfectly. Raising his glass in greeting, he shifted a little, trying to look approachable. Not that he really expected her to come over, but just in case.
.
She smiled back then turned back to the table. The polite thing to do would be to go and introduce herself. She could always walk away if he turned out to be completely bizarre and unnerving. Besides, there were plenty of people around and she was sure someone would step in if things appeared to be getting out of hand.
Although her mind wasn't made up yet, she flipped to a fresh page in the notebook and wrote out an opening line anyway. The book was reason enough in itself to hesitate. Normally she soldiered on regardless. By treating it as something ordinary, as ordinary as it could be, it was easier for others to accept. At the moment it wasn't so easy for her to keep up the blasé attitude.
However, there wasn't really anything to lose. She didn't have to show her face there again if she ended up making a fool of herself. It might have been curiosity getting the better of her but she decided to go over. Standing next to him, she tilted the notebook in his direction to ask, What did you think of the show?
.
Holy shit. Danny had assumed she'd just ignore the weird old guy, or a boyfriend or something would walk up but instead she was headed towards him. He eyed her first, curious about the notebook, but it was easier than her yelling in the bar that much was for sure. "I liked it," he lied. Danny had spent the entire time looking at her. "You wanna sit?" He pushed the chair next to him out a little, offering her a seat. Not that he had a good reason to do it, he didn't have the slightest idea of what to say to her. Starting off the conversation with "you look like a girl my wife and I considered taking in off the streets" wasn't really the best way to make friends.
.
Pleased by the answer, she nodded, missing the fact that he wasn't being entirely truthful. Elle took the seat and laid the book out open in order to promptly begin writing a reply. He's a painter too, if you like that sort of thing. Or even if you don't, you might like his work because it really is very good. Another round nodding, earnest and sincere.
Below that, almost as an afterthought, she put, I'm Elle. This is the easiest way for me to talk to you. It was more succinct and lacked the easy cheer of her everyday introduction. It got enough of the point across and hopefully stopped her from looking like a crazy person, and that would do. She told herself that it was to seem more mature, more in keeping with the surroundings. It was just a veneer to mask the burnout, reserving the act of being sunny and bubbly for when she needed to be, well, herself.
.
Danny found himself nodding with her as she sat, even though he wasn't sure why. He did shift his chair a little closer to her so he could read the notebook easier. Honestly, he couldn't care less that Angel was a painter, although it was interesting that this young girl knew that.
When she wrote that it was the easiest way for her to talk Danny couldn't help but wonder. The cop in him never slept, no matter how much he had to drink, and in a moment he was contemplating what might be wrong. If she just was accustomed to yelling he couldn't imagine her spending a lot of time in places like this, which would rule out knowing Angel. Plus she wielded the notebook like it was an old habit. "I'm Danny," he told her, offering one hand to shake and finishing off his drink with the other.
.
Shaking his hand, Elle gave him a small, friendly smile. Of course she wanted to ask why he'd been staring at her but that wasn't the sort of thing to be blurted out right off the bat. It might cause offense or embarrassment and seem arrogant. That and there was the chance that she wouldn't like the answer or find herself being the embarrassed one.
Thank you for sitting with me. I haven't been here before. I'm sure it's an alright sort of a place but you hear things, don't you? While she hadn't been especially worried when sat there on her own, joining someone else did come as a relief. She held the assumption that the majority of people were reasonable people and although his attention had unsettled her a little, he hadn't done anything to cause immediate alarm. He might be one of those intense kinds of a person and nothing worse than that. If no one ever took the chance to find out those things, they'd never meet anybody.
.
Danny smiled in return, although as always, it still just didn't seem to fit him. "It's not as bad as they say. A lot bark, and if you keep your nose out of it, not as much bite." He was trying to sound reassuring, especially since he knew she was actually safer sitting with the off duty cop than she was on her own. And yet he'd still been the one who had been staring at her most of the night. "What brings you out here tonight then?" he asked, waving down the waitress for another drink.
.
She gestured towards the stage to answer the question. Experiencing something different, she elaborated. I bought one of Angelo's paintings and he mentioned that he performed here so I thought I would come and see for myself. It was the simplest reason to offer. It's better than staying home alone. And it's a chance to meet new people. There, that was something nice and positive.
.
Danny wasn't sure what to say to that. He didn't much care for experiencing different things nor meeting new people. Instead he just nodded. "How's it going so far?" Sure she wasn't talking but he could still keep the conversation on her.
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If Danny didn't care for meeting new people, he was due for some issues as Angelo wove through the crowd with Shoshannah, his face splitting into the customary bright grin that he often wore as he broke free of the other patrons. "Hatin' to jus' interrupt here," he said as he moved on the table where Danny and Elle sat, "But I caught a peek 'cross the room here an' jus' had to say hey."
Offering his free hand to Danny, Angelo leveled the grin off on Elle and topped it with a wink. "Been a lil' while, Elle," he greeted, "S'fine to see you again, din' quite expect you to show 'round here though. This here's a special friend, I had a hunch you two'd hit it off like matches an' pipes." He chuckled, glancing Shannah's way with a smile. "Shoshannah, Elle. Elle, Shoshannah," he introduced pleasantly, finally returning his attention back to Danny. "As f'you, sir? Angelo Lacoste, an' if you're a friend of Elle's, it's damn fine to make your acquaintance. Either of you mind some company? I'm buyin' a round if you don't."
.
Shoshannah trailed along beside Angelo happily, hand still gripping his, feeling very much like the most important girl in the house with the honor of being on his arm.
Turning with him toward the group, Shoshannah's smile widened more as she took in the two new people infront of her, but kept her ears opened for the introduction she'd been waiting for. Special friend? She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks again. Obviously pleased, Shoshannah idly wondered why she hadn't thought of that introduction before when explaining who Angelo was to Ian. But not was not the time. There were prospective friends to meet.
So as not to leave Danny out, she smiled to him quickly, but turned her attention to Elle since she was the one she'd been introduced to. It was easy to see that Elle was lovely and she looked as friendly as could be. "Elle, it's good to meet you!" Wait a minute. Elle...The Elle that Cheyenne had mentioned at the Nighthawk? "Do you happen to know Cheyenne? Cheyenne Walker?"
.
Danny shook Angelo's hand, trying to not seem overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of guests. When he had a spare moment he did his best to shift away from Elle, realizing that he was still in rather close proximity to the young girl. Something that could very easily be deemed inappropriate. "Sure, um, sit?" Danny told Angelo, attempting to remember names and faces, motioning towards the open chairs at the table.
Then one name flitted out among the rest of the conversation. "Cheyenne," he asked, looking around to the girl Angelo brought with him. "You know her?"
.
Finally her smile became warm, genuine as she used both hands to wave to Angelo and Shoshannah. The familiar face, their grins, it brightened her spirits. She started scribbling away, glancing up quickly every now and then to check what was going on. I came to see you perform. It was wonderful, really wonderful. I especially liked the part about the stars. But I enjoyed all of it, she gushed to Angelo. It amazed her how someone could conjure up such beautiful, wistful images.
She studied Shoshannah for a moment, playfully so, and nodded approvingly. She's very pretty, she wrote. The book was angled in a way that suggested the words were for Angelo's eyes only while knowing full well that the girl would be able to see.
At the mention of Cheyenne, her gaze flicked between Danny and Shoshannah. She nodded to the other girl and patted the chair beside her.
.
No one part of Elle's message there was unnoticed, and all of them were plenty of fuel for Angelo's smile. Her praise for his set drew it wider, hinting at teeth in the grin, and the compliment about Shoshannah made him squeeze her hand for a moment as he aimed his eyes downward. "Elle, doll, you's too much," he teased, finally releasing Shoshannah's hand, but only to slip her chair out a bit for her before he pulled his own seat out. He dropped down next to Danny, looking between all three of the people around him curiously. "Cheyenne?" he asked.
.
Shoshannah hadn't intended on looking at Elle's private conversation with Angelo, but of course she was curious. She wondered why this girl was writing instead of speaking, but if anyone knew how difficult it was to explain something medical that should be an impossibility to the masses, wherever, it was Shoshannah. This could be something that Elle didn't want to explain and she respected that because she so rarely wanted to explain her own condition.
Her smile grew with Angelo's, catching little bits of the praise she wrote for him, but seeing the whole compliment about her and feeling the squeeze of Angelo's hand when she knew he'd seen it too. Her cheeks warmed again in a little blush, squeezing his hand back then slipping into the seat he pulled for her with a bright smile and a thank you for Angelo. She kept it to herself, but she was already wishing she still had his hand in hers.
"Elle, that's really sweet of you to say, thank you." Shoshannah turned a bit to catch her eyes, her own dancing with the prospect of another new friend. "I'm sure you get this all the time, but you're lovely."
Apparently, more people than she thought had heard of Cheyenne. Glancing towards Danny, then Angelo, and finally back to Elle, she added, "Yes, I know her. I met her just the other day. She mentioned she had a friend named Elle so I figured this must be her."
.
Danny couldn't help but noticed the writing on the notebook as well, he also couldn't help the strangely proud smile he gave Elle when everyone kept commenting on how sweet she was. What was with him about this girl? When the conversation drifted back to Cheyenne, Danny redirected his focus. "I asked because I know her as well. She's a friend." Or she was a friend. Now she hated him. "I haven't seen her in a few days. She doing alright?"
.
Everyone was so nice. And they kept saying how nice she was. Temporarily abandoning the notebook, Elle laced her hands together in her lap. She flashed Shoshannah a quick smile then looked down and shrugged. The gesture was meant to come off as modest rather than indicative of the insecurity she felt. She told herself that these people were right. She told herself that she was a good person.
Though one that had forgotten her manners. She went back to the book to write Shoshannah a thank you. It's easy to be lovely to lovely people. Another smile, trying to slip back into that bright Elle grin.
Catching Danny's expression, her own became curious, as if trying to figure out something that just managed to elude her. Her study of him didn't last long and she soon returned to the topic at hand. It's a small world, isn't it? She wondered why she'd cropped up Cheyenne and Shoshannah's conversation. She also wondered what the response to Danny's question would be. Cheyenne hadn't been so great the last time Elle had seen her. Hopefully things might have gotten a little better.
.
"Small world indeed," Angelo mused in agreement, grinning as he wondered how it was that all three of them knew the same woman, but not each other. Or not until this moment, at least. He almost felt jealous for their shared experience, but for the fact that Angelo fought fiercely against feelings like that as they happened. He had plenty in his life that he was grateful for, but this was different. This was an experience, a meeting with someone so notable that all three of them could have it in mind. "Think I gotta get caught up an' meet this lady m'self," he said, chuckling and slipping his chair back to stand, "But first, I think I promised a round of drinks. What're people havin'?"
.
"Cheyenne seemed fine when I met her at Nighthawk's. She was really kind, helped me order. It was my first time there so I was a little lost." She assured Danny with a smile.
"I think you'd really like her, Angelo. She used to be a model," Now it was Shoshannah's turn to feel a little jealous. She wanted him to meet Cheyenne, the girl was lovely and very, very kind, but she couldn't help the little twinge in her that Cheyenne would know what to do to make Angelo's paintings perfect where as she sort of stumbled through trying to help anyway that she could. "I'm sure we can find a way for you to meet her," She continued.
Not only a little jealous, but also a little embarrassed. Shannah had had little to no experience with ordering real drinks, so she gave him a little shrug. "Surprise me?"
.
Fine worked for Danny. It was almost an improvement from the wreck she'd been when he saw her last. He couldn't help but glance back and forth between Elle and Shoshannah, wondering if maybe they could help him get back in Cheyenne's good graces. "She's right, Cheyenne's a great girl," Danny confirmed what Shoshannah had said. "How do you know her Elle?" Pushing his glass forward a little, he kept his focus on the girl next to him, even when answering Angelo's question. "I've been partaking in the specialty of the house, but I'll have whatever you're having Angel."
.
She takes photographs too, Elle chimed in. She's very talented. Her and Angelo would probably have a lot to talk about, one artist to another. And if Cheyenne was starting to feel cheerier, she might welcome it. Someone who understood the creative process and all those other things.
We met at an event a while ago, she told Danny. A gala. She was so nice to me. Again reaffirming what he and Shoshannah had already said. As far as Elle was concerned, Cheyenne was a good friend to have. What about you? she asked him.
Shoshannah wasn't alone in that. Not really knowing what she should order, she decided to borrow the response. A surprise sounds good. Head turning towards the other girl, Elle's expression said 'I've got no idea'.
.
Angelo had to laugh, shaking his head at all three of the people he was with and how they left the choice to him entirely. "Four Pushkins it is," he said, stepping away from the table to head to the bar. It wasn't a popular drink aside from Angelo and the handful of Russian immigrants who came to the Round now and again, but he had a feeling they'd all like the mixture of chocolate and vodka, the way the cocoa sapped the harshest edge from the liquor. Weaving through the crowd, Angelo had to glance back once with a grin, silently marvelling at where this night had taken him. Nowhere far from his usual surroundings, sure, but definitely to new territory.
.
She would have offered to help him carry them back but she'd turned to smile back at Elle with the same sort of expression and Angelo was gone by the time she'd turned back. She let her eyes linger on Angelo at the bar for a moment longer before turning back to Elle and Danny. "...Does anyone know what a 'Pushkin' is?"
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"Friend of a friend," Danny told Elle about Cheyenne. He liked that for some reason, the way she talked to him directly, even if she and Shoshannah seemed to be bonding. Actually he'd been watching Elle so closely he'd not even noticed that Angelo had left the table. "Did he say that? Pushkin? I have no idea. Most of my drinks come straight up."
.
He said Pushkin. You should listen. Elle pointed a finger at Danny, jokingly admonishing. It was followed by a big smile that was almost a full fledged grin. But I don't have any idea what that is either. So it really will be a surprise. She looked sort of pleased about about that.
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Gradually, the first hints of Angelo's return could be spotted weaving through the other patrons, appearing as a dark-skinned hand raised up high with a serving platter balanced deftly on it, four glasses planted on the disc. Sliding around another man, Angelo appeared with a smirk in place, seeming pleased with himself at how relatively quick he'd been in getting the drinks, not to mention snagging a server's tray to carry them.
"Ladies, gent," he greeted as he returned, "You three is the first non-russians to try one a'these who isn't me, I think. Here's hopin' you dig on it." With the little warning, Angelo chuckled as he lowered the tray and unloaded four glasses of a dark brown liquid. "An' trus' me," he disclaimed, "It looks worse than it tastes. 'Less you don' like sweets, that is..."
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"Thanks, Angelo!" Looking down into the glass in her hands, Shoshannah's smile turned into a smirk. She trusted Angelo and if he said it tasted better than it looked, then there was nothing to worry about with it. And if it was sweet, that was even better. She still wasn't sure if she had a taste for alcohol yet. But she wouldn't deny it did look a little odd.
She took a sip of it, eyes shifting from curiosity to enjoyment. Glancing at Elle, she gave the girl a small nod, as if to reinforce what Angelo said. "He's right, it is sweet. It's actually pretty good." Eyes drifting back to Angelo, she teased, "No wonder you drink them all the time!" But she looked passed him to see if Danny had tried his yet. "Do you like it?"
.
Danny gave Elle a sheepish look at her chiding, but he couldn't help breaking into a smile, this one coming easier than the others before it, when she grinned at him. Focusing on the drink in hand he nodding a thanks to Angelo and took his sip. Sweet didn't quite cover it, but somewhere behind it there was a little bit of potency. "Not bad," he answered Shoshannah. As before his attention drifted back to Elle, curious how she'd react to it.
.
She smiled at Angelo as a thank you and examined the concoction before her. He was right; it didn't look like the most appetizing thing in the world. Still, it might have been. It certainly seemed to be going down well enough with the others. She raised her glass as if making a toast and took a sip.
The look on her face suggested she was weighing up whether she liked it or not. After a moment she nodded back to Shoshannah, agreeing with what she'd said. It's kind of nice, she wrote. Different, but nice.