Kept Us Awake With Wolves' Teeth (Erik) -FIN-

[OSRIC YOUNG]

one night to be confused
one night to speed up truth
we had a promise made
four hands and then away

[/center]

So maybe he did have a... a thing with these pills, but they were just there, and he didn't want to flush them - they were seriously useful medicine that some people would kill to have. So it'd be disrespectful to get rid of them! And they had been prescribed by a doctor, for him, so obviously he ought to use them up.

He might have been broken and ripped through when they'd been given to him, but no one except Hank and Wilson really knew he never really used them. And they probably thought the pills were long gone, hadn't even pondered what happened to them; there had been far more pressing matters, after all.

"Are you high?"

That's what Wilson had asked, when he'd kicked Osric out last night. "God, Osric, I thought you were more responsible by now - go home and sober up." He'd wanted to yell, No! I'm not, I promise, they're not bad drugs, you see. It's just like aspirin or tylenol, isn't it?

He was fully aware of the lies he was spinning for himself to rely on. The web was fragile still; it'd be better if it were kept that way. If he could finally fall, then he would.

Just not yet.

But he still had work. The alarm woke him up, and he didn't feel hungry, so he skipped breakfast, despite his mothers' voice in the back of his head: "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, don't you dare skip it!" He seemed to be ignoring a lot of his childhood values these days, though. At least he didn't drink anymore - Mormons aren't allowed to drink.

He sat behind the desk, staring up at the ceiling with blank eyes. He was so, so tired. But it felt right, this tired; and that was what was wrong with him. The instruments hanging on the walls around him, the boxes full of sheet music and records, they all sang to him, Wrong, you're wrong. The noise will eventually turn into a scream, for sure, he thought.

To call for hands of above
To lean on,
Wouldn't be good enough
For me, no.

[/font]

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

Erik was playing his violin one morning. He was trying to compose music for a game he was writing. He enjoyed composing the music in addition to writing the code. Somehow everything was going wrong. Mrs Bernice Jones, called Bunny, his housekeeper had come early and she was talking a blue streak while he was trying to concentrate. A pleasant woman, she usually left Erik alone, but today, she was excited about something or other and she kept on and on. She was annoying Erik and he was getting more and more irritable. He didn't want to tell her to be quiet, but he was just about at the end of his patience.

He tried to concentrate, but it all went to bloody hell when he broke a string and it snapped in his face and bloodied his left cheek. He sat there fuming. Of course, Bunny mothered him and brought him antiseptic and a bandage. She knew enough not to touch his face, for he was unbelievable sensitive about it. He had such a volatile temper if anyone suddenly came too near his face.

He cleaned up the cut and put the bandage on. But that didn't fix the violin. He pulled out his tablet and googled for a music store. He could order them on line of course, but going to the store was faster. There was a music store not far from his penthouse apartment, according to the internet.

He put on his tan overcoat and matching Donegal cap and mumbled a good bye to Bunny. He normally walked everywhere if it was not too far from his penthouse. Or he took a cab if it were further. He didn't have a car, perhaps in the future. But he didn't see the need. And it would be so irritating to see his lovely Porche or other expensive care dinged and banged in by the careless drivers. No, in the City, he was better off without it. He could always rent a care if he chose if he had to go further.

Walking quickly, not his usual slow saunter, he reached the store in record time. The young fellow who was apparently the proprietor, looked familiar, but Erik couldn't think of where he had seen him before. Young, thin, dark-haired...where had he seen him before? He frowned, but walked up to him, conscious of the ugly bandage on his face.

"I'm looking for some violin strings...full sized violin, all the strings. ..." The chap was looking at the ceiling and acting...out of it and ...well, high. Erik knew the look. He'd done drugs himself when he was the boy's age. But he was over that little bit in his life. He hadn't really been addicted, but he had tried quite a few different things, just for the hell of it. Those days were over now, long ago, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with this.

"Are you listening to me? I'm a customer. I need some bloody violin strings..."

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Osric had been in a certain state that could only be described by the phrase, Sleeping with his eyes closed, daydreaming about all sorts of things that kept coming together in all manner of strange ways; Lindor chocolates came about Pete Wentz and President Obama, in Alabama. He might have laughed, it was so odd.

He was suddenly pulled out of the amusing fantasy by a costumer - shit, how long had he been there? "Are you listening to me?" Osric forced himself to sit up and nod. The guy seemed pretty irritable. "I need some bloody violin strings..."

"Of course, sir,"

[/b] Osric said sheepishly. The guy was dressed funnily - practically wearing an overcoat with an old fashioned cap - he hadn't thought the English were that old fashioned, gosh. It made him giggle a little under his breath, though he managed to stifle it with a cough. No need to get this guy even more pissed.

He walked from behind the desk to the right corner of the shop, where the violin and other stringed instruments' apparatus was. "Full size, I assume,"[/b] Osric hummed, unaware that it was precisely what his costumer had asked for seconds before. "I've got a few kinds here, wanna look? Here,"[/b] He pulled a few packs out in little plastic baggies out of boxes, holding them out to the man. "You can open them if you like, to get a look. Um, what kind of violin do you have?"[/b][/blockquote][/font]

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

"I told you it's a full sized violin. weren't you listening? It's a Strad. Not an original antique, I have one of those too, but I don't generally play that one very often. However I must have quality strings. "

The fellow brought out several choices of strings and Erik examined them carefully. He wasn't about to make a quick choice, even though he wanted to be finished with the transaction. He finally made a choice. "I'm paying for this with cash. I don't trust credit cards." Certainly Erik had credit cards, plenty of them. But he knew how easy it was to steal identities with them and so for small purchases he generally used cash. In the future, he expected, it would be harder to do that. But it was all right. He was one of the ones who knew how to manipulate things like credit cards and steal someone's identity. He had done it before and covered his tracks without ever being found out. And it was well to be careful.

He handed the cash to the young man, then looked at him again, critically. "Have I seen you somewhere before? You look bloody familiar. I've never been in this store till today... it's driving me mad. " Then he remembered, after he had shot off his mouth. It was on Kris's blog....he had seen the picture the first time he had spoken to her. That night that he had spent talking to her on Skype. Immediately he felt that little ping of jealousy again. He wondered if the fellow was seeing Kris or if he was just a casual acquaintance. But he didn't want to ask. The miserable way Erik was feeling this morning, he was liable to bash the chap in the face.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

"I told you it's a full sized violin. Weren't you listening?" Listening? Haha, no. "It's a Strad. Not an original antique, I have one of those too, but I don't generally play that one very often. However I must have quality strings."

Well, wasn't this gentleman pretentious, Osric thought. It made him smile to himself as he handed the man strings to look at. Some people were so proud of themselves, how funny. Perhaps he was the same.

It took the man a while to look at the strings, and Osric wandered back behind the desk. He yawned; man, when was work over? It was getting darker already. He lazily picked at his nails, occasionally glancing over to the older man. Huh, that guy - what a pimp, he was.

I'm paying for this with cash. I don't trust credit cards."

Osric looked up. The man was holding out a handful of cash, which Osric took to count out. He knew at a glance which strings the man had picked; high quality and expensive. How very him. "Have I seen you somewhere before? You look bloody familiar. I've never been in this store till today... it's driving me mad. "

His words piqued Osric's curiosity and ruined his counting. Osric looked up at Erik curiously - no, he didn't look familiar to him. It'd been a long while, but he was still recognized sometimes. How flattering. He gave the customer a dopey grin - "Well Sir, I'm kind of in and out of the music scene here. Maybe you've seen me sing or something." Well, everyone knew his band's song, but rarely had people recognized them beyond the single.

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

"Music scene?" repeated Erik. Erik could hardly be said to be in the know on the "music scene", unless opera and classical concerts were considered the "music scene." The boy must be some kind of rocker. Still, where would he had seen the chap?

He took the strings and put them in his pocket. "Mind if I look about the place?" Erik loved musical instruments. There were too few music stores left which really sold musical instruments, parts, accessories, repair of them, sheet music and the like. Most of the young people nowadays, when one said "music store," thought that meant a store that sold DVD's and ipods. Of course now one could download songs on line, so even DVD's were becoming a bit obsolete. And there was music "in the cloud." Erik found that a bit too easy. As a composer himself, music could be uploaded into the cloud and it would be oh too easy to hack it and just take what you wanted. He'd done it himself many times.

He walked past the instruments hanging on the walls. He undoubtedly had all the musical things he ever needed, yet still, the lure of a well made instrument was there. He looked at all the violins. Most were made assembly line style and not from the best woods. He did see one that was quite expensive. He turned toward the proprietor. "Do you mind if I play a bit on this one?" He picked it up, without waiting for an answer. He expected the chap would not even notice if he took it out of the store without paying for it. But he wasn't intending to do that. He picked it up, tuned it and brought it to the proprietor. "Do you have a proper bow for this? One that's already been rosined? I just wish to try it out." It wasn't a Strad, but he was just curious what it sounded like.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

"Music scene?" the costumer repeated; he almost looked a bit put off. Hmm, maybe his recognition was not the good kind.

"Ah, I guess not,"

[/b] he said pleasantly, his usual embarrassment masked over by the pills that made his blood slow. "That's $67.94, so your change is..."[/b] he blinked, then tapped out the math he usually could do in his head out on the little calculator that was taped to the desk next to the register. "Twelve dollars and six cents. Here you go."[/b] He counted it out, then counted it again just to be sure, before handing it to Erik. The extra precautions he was taking didn't lengthen his time taken by much, but it might have appeared quite tedious.

The man took the strings and change, then asked, "Mind if I look about the place?"

"Not at all, Sir,"[/b] Osric said with a polite smile. "If you need anything, just holler."[/b] Well, not an actual holler, he thought. Who would want someone to really do that in a shop, anyways? What an odd expression. Most were, really.

"Do you mind if I play a bit on this one? Do you have a proper bow for this? One that's already been rosined? I just wish to try it out." Osric looked towards the costumer, who was already holding a very expensive violin, one Osric had resisted playing with himself in fear of damaging it. But the man seemed to know what he was doing, and though Osric would usually ask him to try out a cheaper one first, what the hell.

"Well, we can just rosin up that one,"[/b] he said happily. The boss didn't mind when he used the instruments, anyways. He slinked around the desk to come up to Erik. Picking up an opened block on a stool, he deftly slicked the bow before handing it to Erik. "There we go - you know, it hurts really bad if you get rosin in your eye."[/b] He spoke from experience. "Man, that's a real nice one you've got there. I mean, really nice."[/b] He smiled, wondering who made it. They were very talented, certainly. [/blockquote][/font]

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

The young proprietor was moving as slow as molasses in January. He used a little calculator to determine the change to give back to Erik out of the cash he had been handed. Erik counted it to make sure it was correct before putting it away in his wallet. He still couldn't figure out where he had seen the fellow before.

Bringing the expensive violin back to the counter, he had asked for a rosined bow and the chap rosined it for him. He checked the strings one more time to see if they were holding the tuning and then began to play some Mozart on the violin. It was a rather good quality instrument, well made and had a good voice. Of course it would need to be played often in order to come into its own.

In the middle of the piece, suddenly Kris's face flashed into his consciousness and he remembered her blog....this chap was in her blog. Erik stopped playing abruptly and pointed the end of the bow at the young man as if it were a sword. "Now I know who you are....you're in her blog...Kristine....and your name is Rick...or something like that..." He put the violin down on the glass counter carefully and laid the bow next to it.

"I understand you knew her from school. And you want to see her again." He picked up the bow again and loosened it for storage. As he finished, he slowly ran his finger up the wood, as if it were a sharp sword. His voice became quietly dangerous. "I'd advise you to stay away from her....or you just might be sorry..."

[OSRIC YOUNG]

The man took the bow and began playing - as much as Osric's insensible trust in his costumers was risen today, he still watched the man carefully to make sure he was alright with the high quality instrument. He was pleased to hear him playing some classical music with natural fluidity.

He was quite happy to listen, until the bow was suddenly pointed in his face, the music stopped, and the costumer looked... angry? "Now I know who you are," he was practically snarled at, "You're in her blog...Kristine....and your name is Rick...or something like that..."

"Oh, yeah," Osric said, nervous. But he was still casual, fear not completely registering in his current state, and he moved to pick up the violin the costumer had put down. The other man got there first, though.

"I understand you knew her from school. And you want to see her again... I'd advise you to stay away from her....or you just might be sorry..."

Osric laughed. Actually laughed. "Calm down man, I'm not gonna hurt her or anything. You don't hafta be so dramatic. Chill out." He took the bow carefully from the man, "Of course I want to see her again, she's one of my best friends. Why shouldn't I?"

[/blockquote]

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

Erik raised an eyebrow. "One of her best friends? Really. That's not what you said on her blog. You said you hadn't seen her since high school and wanted to reacquaint yourself with her. That sounds like you hadn't seen her for a couple of years. Am I correct?" Erik straightened up. He wasn't going to get anywhere with a hostile attitude.

"Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps you are one of her best friends." His tone became friendlier and softer. He smiled. "Sorry for the little tiff earlier. I fly off the handle sometimes. I am a bit protective of my friends, too. She's one of my very best friends." He shuffled his feet a bit and pinged a couple of the strings of the violin which still sat on the glass counter.

"I try to drum up a bit of business for myself now and then. I do some computer consulting and systems analysis. Looks like your system is a bit old here. You own the store? If not, maybe you'd like to give my card to your supervisor. We do good work and at a fair price." He offered his card to the young man. The card read:

EDL Consulting
Systems Analysis
Network Installation

There was a phone number on the bottom which was a mobile phone specifically for that purpose. Yes, Erik was capable of doing that work, but often if he actually got a call about it, he farmed it out to someone else. However, there were times it came in handy. If there was a place he really wanted to tap into, he could set up all sorts of things that would spy on whoever or whatever he wanted and easily hack into the computers. Of course, absolutely no one else knew that.

Erik still didn't know where Kris lived and he really wanted to know. He couldn't ask right out, but if he could find out the fellow's name and phone number he would be able to hack into his mobile phone and hear his conversations.

"So, young man, what is your name and phone number so I can call again to find out if your shopkeeper is interested in my services?"

[OSRIC YOUNG]

The man looked skeptical. "One of her best friends? Really."

"Um... yeah really,"

[/b] Osric grunted, getting annoyed. This guy had a thick skull.

"That's not what you said on her blog. You said you hadn't seen her since high school and wanted to reacquaint yourself with her. That sounds like you hadn't seen her for a couple of years. Am I correct?" Huh, this guy was awfully stubborn, Osric thought. Maybe there was no arguing, no reasoning. And what was he, a stalker or something? What was he doing looking at all of Kris' blog like that? Creepy. He was an old dude too.

"Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps you are one of her best friends." Oh, that was better.

"Like... yeah, yeah I am. We were internet friends in high school."[/b] Osric explained, approving of the turn-around in attitude.

"Sorry for the little tiff earlier. I fly off the handle sometimes." No, really? "I am a bit protective of my friends, too. She's one of my very best friends." Oh, really? Osric didn't remember ever seeing him on tumblr or anything. Or her mentioning someone so protective. But maybe Kris would've liked that - she was kinda weird like that. Always lonely.

"No problem dude,"[/b] Osric shrugged,

"I try to drum up a bit of business for myself now and then. I do some computer consulting and systems analysis. Looks like your system is a bit old here. You own the store?"

"Nah,"[/b] Osric replied negatively.

"Maybe you'd like to give my card to your supervisor. We do good work and at a fair price." Osric took the card, a funny look on his face. That was weird, people didn't really do this except at business meetings, he thought. But whatever. Old English guy just wanted to do some business, then.

"Uh... thanks,"[/b] he said, reading the card. Wow, that was pretensions sounding. Osric didn't think he really liked this guy.

"So, young man, what is your name and phone number so I can call again to find out if your shopkeeper is interested in my services?"

Osric looked up - he could've just asked Billy, but whatever. "Name's Osric Young, nice to meet you Sir,"[/b] he said politely, saying, Not! in his head. "The number's... 326...46...95, yeah?"[/b] He gave this guy the store's number, because he didn't really want someone like him calling him at night. That'd be even creepier.[/blockquote][/font]

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

Erik hoped to get some more information from this fellow, but he wasn't making much headway. "May I sit here?" he asked, pulling over a stray chair near the glass counter. He peered inside. "I see you have all sorts of parts for music equipment. I mix my own music and sometimes need parts. I have quite a large set up. It's a hobby with me. I teach a bit too, on the side." He glanced sideways at Osric.

"Actually, that's how Kristine and I met. I was giving her voice lessons. She has a lovely voice but needs to learn more control and breathing. I really need to see her soon so we can work on her voice. I think she could really make something of herself, with my help."

He picked up the violin again and checked the tuning for the third time. He picked up the bow and tightened it again. Then he took off his overcoat and hat and stood up with the violin. He started to play several more classical pieces, Vivaldi, Bach, Rachmaninoff and then he launched into one of the songs Kris had sung on her blog. He wondered if Osric would recognize it.

While Erik was playing, his mind was totally involved with the music. He could put himself somewhere far away by letting the music "take him over." He closed his eyes and reveled in the music. Finally, he stopped playing. It had put him in a very good, very mellow state of mind. He put down the violin again and loosened the bow. "Sorry, Mr Young, for taking up so much of your time. I must admit, that violin is not a Strad, but it certainly has a good voice. What time does the shop close?"

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Osric thought (hoped) the guy might leave now, seeing as he had what he wanted and had advertised and bothered him already - what left was there, small talk?

"May I sit here?"
Apparently.

The guy pulled up a chair anyways - ugh, that was supposed to stay there, it was for students - "I see you have all sorts of parts for music equipment. I mix my own music and sometimes need parts. I have quite a large set up. It's a hobby with me. I teach a bit too, on the side." The guy looked at Osric like he wanted a compliment or something. Well, good for you man, good for you, thought Osric.

"Actually, that's how Kristine and I met. I was giving her voice lessons. She has a lovely voice but needs to learn more control and breathing. I really need to see her soon so we can work on her voice. I think she could really make something of herself, with my help."

"Oh yeah,"

[/b] Osric said, now slightly more interested because Kris was involved, "She's really great."[/b] He was glad to have a reason for Kris' acquaintance with such a weirdo. He wondered why she'd never mentioned voice lessons though.

Osric thought maybe the guy would leave now, since he picked the violin back up - to put it away? No such luck. Damn. He started to play again. It was beautiful music, even if this guy was strange. Sometimes he wished people he didn't like weren't so good at things, so he could hate them more.

It was a bit jarring when the man played a more upbeat, modern song - it sounded good, though. Osric went back to working behind the desk, remembering the new picks he had to unpack, listening intently on the music. Finally, the man was done, and loosed the bow. "Sorry, Mr Young, for taking up so much of your time. I must admit, that violin is not a Strad, but it certainly has a good voice. What time does the shop close?"

Yeah, it was a good violin. So what if it wasn't a strad? Not everyone could afford such royalties. "Uh... soonish. Why, you wanna buy it?"[/b] Osric asked, a forced politeness that anyone who had ever worked had to develop eventually.[/blockquote][/font]

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

The young proprietor asked if Erik wanted to buy the violin. "I shall think about it. Not for myself, but on occasion I have students. I would send them here to try it themselves. Unfortunately I have no violin students at the moment."

Erik put the violin back up on the wall where he had found it. He came back, put the chair back in place and put on his overcoat and hat. He took a look out of the window and said, "Do you think we're in for a lot of snow? I can see a bit of snow starting to fall. I suppose I had better fly." He looked at his watch and said, as he went toward the door, "Which way do you go? Do you drive? I prefer to walk myself. That's why I'd better leave now..."

Erik could see he wasn't going to get any real information about Kris from this fellow. He opened the door, turned around and said, "It's been very nice meeting you, Mr Young. I shall mention to Kris that I met you. And perhaps we shall see more of you on her blog..." he said cryptically.

Well, that was a damn waste of time, thought Erik as he left the store and walked home. The flakes were just starting to fall and the sidewalks were barely wet. He continued thinking, That fellow either doesn't know her very well or he's good at not saying anything. Probably the latter. Drugged up little idiot. He continued to walk the short distance back to his penthouse apartment, walking faster now, as the snow continued to increase. Another blizzard? he thought? It was one reason he was quite glad that he could choose his own working hours and do as he pleased whenever he pleased. And an automobile would certainly not be faster than walking. The traffic was already thick and slow. Erik arrived at his building and entered, grateful to be out of the wind and snow. He took the lift up to the penthouse and hung up his coat and hat.

The first thing Erik did then, was to check tumblr and Skype to see if there was a message from Kris. Even a short time not speaking to her was beginning to wear on him. He turned on the computer to see if there was a message....

[OSRIC YOUNG]

"I shall think about it. Not for myself, but on occasion I have students. I would send them here to try it themselves. Unfortunately I have no violin students at the moment."

Oh, well, at least if anything he might at least get a word out on their store, if anything. The costumer finally seemed as he were leaving, actually leaving, this time. "Do you think we're in for a lot of snow? I can see a bit of snow starting to fall. I suppose I had better fly."

Why did he want to make sure Osric saw the same thing as he did? Oh, well, the costumer was always right... "Yessir, it's pretty cold out,"

[/b] he agreed.

"Which way do you go? Do you drive? I prefer to walk myself. That's why I'd better leave now..."

"Same. I walk, but I think I might get a lift home from a buddy this evening - it's really coming down."[/b] The last bit was said with some regret; he didn't want to bother Wilson, but he also didn't want to walk home in an almost-snow storm.

The man gave a final nod before he left: "It's been very nice meeting you, Mr Young. I shall mention to Kris that I met you. And perhaps we shall see more of you on her blog..."

"Goodbye and thank you for your service, sir,"[/b] he bid his own goodbye politely, though his eyes had no honesty.

It bothered Osric, how... annoyed this man seemed at the idea of him being friend with Kris. He had been friends far longer than this man, he was sure. This guy had no idea what he was talking about. He probably didn't even know anything about her. Probably some internet creeper, he kept talking about her blog; he was so telling her about this as soon as he got home.

But, as it was, Osric did not get right home. Because once the store closed, and Wilson came to get him, Wilson yelled at him for his state of mind. He'd thought he'd been hiding it well - and there was really not that much to hide anyways, he'd only had one, early this afternoon, but Wilson noticed and it made the day a very bad day.

"You'd better be done with this shit, soon. I'm not - I can't deal with this, Osric."

Huh. Wilson was worried about his reputation, he supposed. He was a spot on his record. What kind of shit was that? He went home and swallowed another.[/blockquote][/font]