09-11-2018, 08:08 PM
Without a voice, Raffe couldn't work. Carmen assured him fiercely that he would not have to worry about money, though really it didn't number high among his concerns. He almost ruffled her hair when she said it, only refraining because he knew better than to treat her like a doll, though he did grin wide at her concern. He had a roof over his head for now, and given time perhaps the injury would improve. Ever the optimist, he tried not to dwell on it.
Raffe's bar jobs were eclectic to say the least, and even in those places he did not work he generally had friends and acquaintances. He was a social creature, and the sudden absence among his circles was both noticed and noted. A problem he could only avoid for so long. His friends coaxed and cajoled until he relented, whispering of a night not to be missed.
When they told him where his lips curled into a smirk. He tried to tease Carmen into joining him, but she only rolled her eyes and waved him away with the hope that he had a good night.
Hands in pockets, Raffe met his friends at the table. It hurt his chest when they stared at the mangled flesh of his throat, though he had somewhat obliquely warned them what to expect. He supposed that at least when they demanded to know what the fuck had happened, he was quickly excused answering. Barely a rasp escaped when he opened his lips. They plied him with conciliatory drinks instead. He didn't complain.
He loved the spectacle. The glitz and glamour. That cheeky wink of subversiveness. The alcohol burned a little uncomfortably, but the company was good. Lada smacked him playfully on the back of his head when she caught him staring. Glitter trailed his cheek from god knows where. Fingers tousling his blonde curls. The tickle of feathers. The tease of flesh. Male or female, it didn't matter. He grinned, felt the knot in his chest unravel.
Then silence descended with the lights. The show began.
And what a show.
Ah, it hurt to laugh. No wonder the billing was one night only. Amusement twinkled Raffe's gaze, irreverent enough to take it at face value. The sly digs, drawing on speeches everyone in this room had heard with their own ears, carved up into mocking morsels. The caricatures were obvious, particularly the lead. Prosthetics, maybe, though like a mirage the likeness seemed to fade in and out. The light maybe.
The crowd around him erupted in guffaws and hollering. Vassily's head plunged into his hands, tears leaking down his cheeks. Someone accidentally knocked over a drink, spilling electric pink all across the table. The hysterics spread like wildfire. Raffe massaged his neck a few times, trying to ease the twinges of pain laughter choked from him. Didn't understand the sudden bouts of dread, like anxiety hovered over his shoulder, as the momentum built to frenzy.
He swiped a hand over his brow, swallowing a little uncomfortably. White, orange and purple swarmed the stage. Rainbows soared like nothing he'd ever seen, plunging terror in his heart. He suddenly realised it was racing and glanced at the drink in his hand, wondering if someone had been a bit free with the merriment. But pulled his gaze back to the stage.
Raffe's bar jobs were eclectic to say the least, and even in those places he did not work he generally had friends and acquaintances. He was a social creature, and the sudden absence among his circles was both noticed and noted. A problem he could only avoid for so long. His friends coaxed and cajoled until he relented, whispering of a night not to be missed.
When they told him where his lips curled into a smirk. He tried to tease Carmen into joining him, but she only rolled her eyes and waved him away with the hope that he had a good night.
Hands in pockets, Raffe met his friends at the table. It hurt his chest when they stared at the mangled flesh of his throat, though he had somewhat obliquely warned them what to expect. He supposed that at least when they demanded to know what the fuck had happened, he was quickly excused answering. Barely a rasp escaped when he opened his lips. They plied him with conciliatory drinks instead. He didn't complain.
He loved the spectacle. The glitz and glamour. That cheeky wink of subversiveness. The alcohol burned a little uncomfortably, but the company was good. Lada smacked him playfully on the back of his head when she caught him staring. Glitter trailed his cheek from god knows where. Fingers tousling his blonde curls. The tickle of feathers. The tease of flesh. Male or female, it didn't matter. He grinned, felt the knot in his chest unravel.
Then silence descended with the lights. The show began.
And what a show.
Ah, it hurt to laugh. No wonder the billing was one night only. Amusement twinkled Raffe's gaze, irreverent enough to take it at face value. The sly digs, drawing on speeches everyone in this room had heard with their own ears, carved up into mocking morsels. The caricatures were obvious, particularly the lead. Prosthetics, maybe, though like a mirage the likeness seemed to fade in and out. The light maybe.
The crowd around him erupted in guffaws and hollering. Vassily's head plunged into his hands, tears leaking down his cheeks. Someone accidentally knocked over a drink, spilling electric pink all across the table. The hysterics spread like wildfire. Raffe massaged his neck a few times, trying to ease the twinges of pain laughter choked from him. Didn't understand the sudden bouts of dread, like anxiety hovered over his shoulder, as the momentum built to frenzy.
He swiped a hand over his brow, swallowing a little uncomfortably. White, orange and purple swarmed the stage. Rainbows soared like nothing he'd ever seen, plunging terror in his heart. He suddenly realised it was racing and glanced at the drink in his hand, wondering if someone had been a bit free with the merriment. But pulled his gaze back to the stage.