Hum, Haligh, A Lie (Seb, Casual)

[OSRIC YOUNG]

little baby in my memory
you told me victory's sweet
even in the cheap seats

Osric really liked when he actually got paying gigs at bars and things. Of course, being a session musician and having friends in all parts of the industry helped him out. He'd played in a bar tonight - the nice kind, where couples and friends went who wanted a nice night on the town, not some kind of head banging raver. They were a good audience - they always showed a polite disinterest and sometimes they said Hi or Good job. It was the best he got.

He'd played an acoustic set - again, background noise was the best way to go in these places. Lua was one of his personal favorites, and the lyrics meant something to him, so he saved it for last. Finished, he said a quick and simple, "Thanks, have a great night,"

[/b] and hopped off stage, thanking the manager and then helping the next girl set up.

When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend.
I get a coffee and the paper, have my own conversations
With the sidewalk and the pigeons and my window reflection.
The mask I polish in the evening, by the morning looks like shit.

Half hour later, he found himself at the counter, ordering himself a bear. The tender gave him an amused look at that, Osric smiled back. His hair was messy from being on stage and putting things away, so he pushed it back. He wondered if he had a barrette in his guitar case; Hank had given them to him as a joke when his hair had been really long, but they had actually come in handy, even with his hair being short now. It's too bad they were pink and flowery. Otherwise he'd use them all the time. Oh well.

He sipped at his sprite, enjoying the girl who was up now, singing a sweet acoustic rendition of Iris. He smiled without a real reason; he just enjoyed being around people, the low hum of true socialization. A man sat next to him with sandy colored hair. Nice clothes, though he looked tired.

"Hey,"[/b] he decided to speak to the man, giving him a friendly smile, "What's a good looking guy like you doing here all alone?"[/b]

He was honest, wondering; most people here were with a partner in some way or form. But this man appeared to be alone, and Osric felt a little bad for him, though he knew maybe that was placing himself irrationally above others. Even so, if the guy was lonely, Osric wanted to make an attempt to cheer him up.[/blockquote][/font]

[SEBASTIAN TIMOTHY MARTIN]

He really shouldn't drink. Andrew never approved of this when he was alive, and he really should just call it quits because of that... But the drink felt so good in his hands, and bitter apple taste on his tongue began to make him forget why he came there in the first place. Andy... No, of course he couldn't really forget, but it was something else to focus on. He could do something else, instead of thinking about all of the pain. If he stopped, he might have the vision again... again... and again and again.

As he drained the last bit of the glass and the cherry rolled down his tongue, his hands began to shake. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, leaning his temple against his knuckles as he pushed the empty glass toward the bartender. "Can I have another?" he asked in a weak, broken voice. He laid his arms across each other and rested his face against the cool back of his hand, waiting for his third drink of the night.

Miserable was the right word for him. It wasn't the loss of Andy anymore that bothered him, really... It was the sleepless nights when his vision was not of the anonymous murders yet to come that made him ill and fractured. He felt torn from every angle, and the crushing guilt was the only thing holding him together. But it wasn't just the dreams, no... If only it could just be the dreams, because he would call in sick, or force himself out of bed and into a cold shower that cooled his hot tears.

No, these things had to happen at the worst of times. When he was happy on a spring day, walking his dog in Central Park. He could have been reading a good book when it happened, or trying to swim peacefully in the NYU pool. The vision of Andrew being ripped open, piece by piece from every angle, happened at these moments. They openly laughed at his happiness, at his forgetfulness that he should feel guilty, never have any kind of happiness again. This could have happened at any time, but of course it had to happen at the unthinkable hour of his mercy.

He was trying to save a life. Sebastian had had a vision not moments before he saw it again. He'd been in the grocery store and had to drop everything and run. Some poor girl... He'd be seeing it the next morning on the news, because Sebastian didn't get there. His course had strayed to this bar, the nearest one to where he'd relived the practical end of his life, if only for that one moment.

Vision after vision. If one wasn't enough to make him hurl once, more than one was enough to make him feel his own kind of hell.

"Order up..." the bartender said with sympathy. Sebastian didn't really care if he felt the need to try and console him. He was going to ignore anything and everything except his drink.

He leaned up and took the apple off the side of the glass, sucking on it absently. Just then a young man joined him in the seat beside him. Seb subconsciously turned away a fraction of a degree, and just listened to the girl singing onstage. Just like every other goddamn lovesick person in the world, the song reminded him of the one he loved. He bit the apple, blinking back tears and stuffing it all in his mouth. He took the stem of the glass in his hands and washed the eaten fruit down with vodka and frivolous fruit flavoring, slowly willing himself to become drunk.

Sebastian almost thought he'd imagined the boy beside him saying hey to him, but then he continued to speak. "What's a good looking guy like you doing here all alone?" he asked him, and Sebastian had to wince. "Alone" was a word that he wished didn't exist in his own vocabulary.

He set down his glass, glancing at the young man from behind his thick framed glasses. "You're too young to be flirting with me, honey," he said softly. When he drank his accent became thick, and he forgot how to speak formally to total strangers.

'He does look familiar, though,' he thought. 'But ah, hell, wasn't he singing on stage a few minutes ago?' He didn't really care, either way. He just wished the kid would leave him alone.

((OoC: This is my 200th post! Yay!))

[OSRIC YOUNG]

The man looked... miserable, really. Osric felt awfully bad for him. Maybe he'd just been dumped, or ditched. He seemed lonely, and whatever he was eating made him look a bit desperate.

"You're too young to be flirting with me, honey," he said in an almost-whisper; he had an accent that made Osric think of honey and The Wizard of Oz and summer.

Osric chuckled a little flustered, but not offended. He was used to this. "Oh - no, sorry Sir, I mean - I wasn't trying to... you're just handsome is all."

[/b] He gave the man an apologetic look. Perhaps his words sounded a bit more defensive than apologetic, as if he was trying to cover up the embarrassment of being caught flirting, but he'd meant it differently.

He was quiet and thoughtful for a second, taking a sip of his Sprite - bubbly, sugary, mm - "It's just - well, you look awfully sad right now. I mean, are you okay?[/b]

Seeing other people sad made him sad; his was a look of sympathy, not abject pity, and Osric's good intent showed on his face.[/blockquote][/font]

[SEBASTIAN TIMOTHY MARTIN]

He felt sorry for the kid. When Sebastian was drunk he was a bit angry, must mostly bitter and sad. If he'd been a sober man they might get along better, since they both seemed pretty shy but friendly people. At that moment, however, Sebastian didn't want to talk to anyone. He could be courteous, though... He could swallow his tears and see what happened.

Seb ran his fingertip over his empty glass, tipping it slightly on its pivot point and rocking it back and forth with his index finger. "Thanks," he muttered, his eyes focused on not tipping the glass over completely. He wanted another, but he could hear Andy's reprimanding voice in his head as clearly as he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He shook his head, setting the glass down flat and rubbing the bridge of his nose with frustration. "Thanks," he repeated. "Yeah, um... That's alright, I understand. It's a couples bar, and I'm alone, so it's only natural that you'd..." He sighed. "Care."

"It's just - well, you look awfully sad right now. I mean, are you okay?

Seb glanced at the boy, for that's really what he was. He was just a boy, who seemed so happy and eager to please. He was like that once... He wished it would get better for the kid, but he knew in his heart--and his clairvoyant mind-- that it would go from bad, to worse, to even worse.

That's how it was for him. It was how he felt now, when Andy's voice was buzzing in his ear. So close, if he reached out he might just touch the sound, but then he would look crazy and he'd never reach Andy then, not even in death itself. "No... I'm not okay..."

Sebastian motioned to the bartender for another one. Quietly, for that was what his default voice was when he felt like collapsing, he said, "But thanks for asking."

[OSRIC YOUNG]

"It's only natural that you'd... care."

It took a second for the words to sink in. Perhaps, he thought as he asked the man if he was alright, if he should've said lonely. Yeah, the guy looked lonely. Poor man.

"No... I'm not okay... but thanks for asking," he said.

Osric paused, not sure how to reply to something so.... down. 'You're welcome' seemed a bit inappropriate. "I... well, Sir, I don't mean to overstep myself,"

[/b] he found himself saying seriously, "But if you wanna talk or I can help you cheer up or something, I'd be happy to."[/b]

Maybe even saying that was a bit much. But he added anyways, "I know you don't even know who I am, but I bet usin' me has better results than that."[/b] He motioned to the next drink the man had just ordered.[/blockquote][/font]