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Pac usually didn’t heavily indulge in his liquor content unless it was a very troubling night. He had the capability of having fun without it; he didn’t mind having a glass and not finishing it, but he liked having a stable mind to remember the fun he was having. Plus, it was embarrassing to admit how quickly the alcohol would take effect on him after drinking it.
But god damn, it had been not just a troubling night but a troubling week. A troubling few months, if he were to be completely honest. And his alcohol intolerance was waning away with each banging thought and emotion in his head, therefore landing him on a barstool one night by himself with a rich amber liquid in a glass right by his hand, the bustles of the club activity accompanying him.
He had forgotten how rich whiskey was, the flavor of rich gold spinel and heavy boots on wooden floors saturating his tongue and lingering there. That was the kind of music it brought to his ears as he sipped it, the warmth of spiked apple cider and the sway of country song yammering following along as its aftertaste. He let himself sink into the environment of the bar; a cozy one with the usual round table bar seating and jingle of glasses dangling above to reflect the winks of golden and red lights sunken in around him. There were booths situated around the place for actual dining, but most of the place was taken over by the bar right in the center. There was a performing stage in the corner with a singer that hummed some sort of deep tune Pac found somewhat nice, albeit a bit softer than what he was used to and what he was really feeling.
He sipped at his drink again, wrinkling his nose down into it as the warm bubbles from the alcohol started drifting around his chest and dribbling up to his head. The thoughts in his head and his general equilibrium swayed faintly, and he held his head with a small groan and gritted teeth as he glowered down at the drink in question. Damn, forgot how light I was to this stuff. I don’t wanna drink myself sick. As much as this whole stupid situation makes me want to.
His eyes flicked back up to the performer in the corner, content in staying hidden from the crowd and accepting the small tips of coins and dollars as they came by with a small nod. The performer would flick their eyes open occasionally, smiling behind the microphone where Pac could see the gentle movement of their lips as a soft indie song reverberated through the room. Pac wasn’t familiar with it; it didn’t sound bad at all, but it was off-putting to the general audiences he found himself in instead.
The band with my ex and the rampaging crowds… Makes this all feel so much slower compared to the blaring lights and all of the screaming and noise. He rubbed his throat at the thought, familiar with the roughened gravely voice he had after each night with his singing and shouting always digging through to make it raw. It had been a few months now without much singing or performing considering his circumstances, and his throat felt oddly softened and smooth. He didn’t like it; it wasn’t roughened like it usually was, being quite a change to what he was used to. It’s odd that I kind of miss it, even though it’s probably healthier for me to not sing like that for a bit. It was familiar and comforting, in a way. It signified that I had a fun night, though that’s probably not the best way to think about it.
I’d go sing again and burst my pipes just to get that feeling again, as bad as it would be for me. But then again, who said my distractions needed to be healthy? At least it’s not drinking into a stupor. He narrowed his eyes back down at his drink before lifting his head up towards the performer in the corner again, letting his fingers tap along to the beat of the guitar frets thrumming through the room. He squeezed the corner of his dark blue sleeves, adjusting the golden chain around his throat with a small sigh. I miss performing though, God. I don’t want that to be ruined just because of one person.
His fingers fiddled along and snuck into the holes of his chains, assessing the singer again with a slight head tilt as he tossed his head to get his thick black strands of hair out of the way. He let out a small hum to himself, glancing around the room for a moment. I mean… I could, really. I could perform again without my old group. It would be different, but… I don’t wanna let one person ruin the whole thing for me. I enjoy it too damn much to let my past ruin whatever could be in the future for me and performing.
Question now, though… Who else would join me? Pac stopped fiddling with his chain and glanced around uneasily, letting out another small sigh and an eye roll at himself. A faint scoff left his lips, earning an odd look from the pair not too far from him that made him shrink away with a burning face but pursed lips. I know maybe one person who could be interested… Mike could help with the tech stuff, but he wouldn’t actually perform. There is that one other friend of mine, though… Unless she’d be upset with me after everything that’s happened, which is understandable.
But otherwise… I don’t really have many friends to consider, do I? He jutted his chin towards the performer, who had now stopped and was taking a water break to let the jukebox in the room take over the tunes. The clamor of talking and laughter amongst drinks was becoming much louder now anyways, drowning out the softer tunes that the performer had. It made Pac’s fist clench around his glass. Didn’t really have anyone else besides my old group, and that’s busted. I don’t have anyone.
He glowered down at his glass before shaking his head, taking a breath to steady himself from the odd wavers in his breath that started coming up as he took a small sip in assistance. It burned at his throat, searing along with the anxious thoughts wearing grooves into his head. I don’t care. Whether it’s just me or a group of people, I won’t let myself be drowned out. I can do this again. I will do this again. I’ll show that I don’t need my old group anymore. I can be better. They’ll see.
Pac puffed out his chest, the small gurgles of whimsy alcohol feelings stirring around his chest and giving him more of a boost as he smoothed back his hair. He shook his head with a small huff again before letting his eyes stray around the room, a curious quirk of a smile on his lips. I’ll show I can be better by taking random people off the street. I’ll be better friends with them, I’ll make them good performers, I could do all of that. Now just to find the perfect bait…
It was a bit difficult for him at first; most everyone was in groups or at least pairs and very engrossed in their parties with no intent on being swindled out of their conversations. He saw a few couples making out and running their hands all over each other in some of the selected booths pinned to the walls, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the shadows in the room trying its best to conceal the public displays of affection but failing quite miserably. Pac quickly moved his eyes away from it all with a small huff, shaking his head before catching it on another glint in a booth, in the shadows tucked somewhat behind him and not far at all as his gaze lingered on the last booth in sight.
It was one man, no others around, with a few empty glasses already scattered around his table. It seemed to be his third one, Pac’s stomach twisting uneasily at the thought but ogling at the man obviously still standing somehow with no evidence of it affecting his system. His round head didn’t have a speck of hair, but Pac could still feel a faint flutter within his chest seeing the set jaw and the broad shoulders covered by only a black t-shirt and dark jeans situated over his legs. A large man indeed, his dark eyes scowling down at the brown drink in his hand that didn’t seem to be fairing in his favor from the displeased expression on his face.
Pac studied his face for a moment before glancing down at his hands, studying his fingers for a moment. They were big hands for sure, much bigger than Pac’s, but they looked quite steady and much more technically sound than a normal onlooker would think. The way they clasped around the cup and twinged… Pac could almost see it now, wrapped around the drumsticks and thumping against a set without hesitance. He looks like a drummer kind of guy… His hands are built for it. He’s giving me those vibes.
Only one way to figure out if they’re true, though. Pac twisted himself around in his chair, still handling his drink and taking a small sip from it as he hesitated. He watched the lonely man for another moment, fingers tapping on the glass with the faded beat from the previous performer as his mind now hummed with the energy of his times before but still sheltered away by his hesitant step.
He looks lonely as hell with all of those drinks and no one to share them with, but… Maybe this is overstepping. Pac glanced between the man and the stage a few times, fingers anxiously working on the glass. The tugs weren’t enough, but they were still there in his fingers and his feet as his body and heart yearned for the company. Come on, Pac… You said you would try and make a friend! You were so bold before! Don’t lose that now!
“Just go talk to him.”
Pac jolted from the voice now suddenly beside him, whipping his head around to find the source- the bartender, giving him a haughty look from blue eyes, a green shirt, and oddly white dyed hair as he narrowed his eyes at Pac. The other man stumbled for a response, blinking rapidly at the mixer with the shaker in his hand. “H-huh?”
The bartender snorted, starting to mix up the drink in his hands with a satisfying swishing noise as he nodded over to where Pac’s eyes had continuously been flicking over to. His voice was thicker with an accent unfamiliar to Pac, but it was chiding and somewhat teasing nonetheless as the other man urged, “I see you look back and forth. Go. Talk to him. Might lose your chance if you don’t. Plus, he looks sad anyways. Sad and angry, but trying to hide that he’s sad. Think he needs a friend, but he might be grumpy. Be careful.”
The bartender squinted further at the table, counting the two empty glasses already at his grasp, and let out another snort and a small eye roll as he turned his back now to Pac, pouring out what appeared to be a pretty glistening pink drink for a woman nearby studded in tattoos, adding in a small mutter while the liquid hit the glass, “If you don’t become his friend, try to at least stop his liquid consumption. He needs to stop drinking that much anyways, especially alone.”
Pac self-consciously glanced down at his own glass nearly finished, the final trickles of liquor spinning in a small puddle at the bottom of it. He gently sat it down on the bar, clearing his throat and standing himself up when the bartender gave him a sideways glance again while he puffed out his chest. “Ah, right… Thank- Thank you! I will!”
The bartender’s eyes flicked up and down, scanning Pac’s attempt at determination before chuckling quietly to himself, waving a hand back towards him before moving onto the rest of his guests at the bar. Pac brushed off his shirt and inhaled, spinning on his heels as he studied the man in the dark once more with a more determined lurch in his chest. I can help him. Even if he really isn’t interested in the band, it might do him some good to not be alone.
Might do some good for me too.
Before he thought anymore about it, he patted his chest with the bubbles of liquid courage before making his way over to the lonely man. He wasn’t as stealthy or as unnoticeable as he wanted to be, the eyes instantly flicking to attention with Pac’s presence and shifting into a guarded and steeled look as he stared at Pac coming up. Pac didn’t even need to say anything, feeling his heart leap into his throat for a second to thud nervously against his vocal cords. Oh, Jesus Christ. That’s a bit intimidating. Maybe a little attractive, but also very intimidating.
He did his best to not let it phase him, instead puffing out his chest again and doing his best impression of a charming grin, placing one of his hands at the corner of the table. “This whole booth taken by you then? You waitin’ on anyone?”
The man wasn’t affected at all; the steeled glare stayed, and his shoulders visibly tensed. Pac was worried for a moment he would cause the glass cup to splinter, glaring up at Pac with slitted eyes. “Why’s it your fuckin’ business?”
Yowch. Great start. Pac did his best to not let it deter him, the glass of alcohol he had been sipping being his only supplement of support as he leaned some weight into his hands on the table, tilting his head curiously with a small smile. “Doesn’t look very taken to me.”
The man now jerked his chin up to stare down Pac directly, eyes spitting with anger and a snarl on his lips as he hissed without a beat of hesitation, “How about you fuck off?”
“Hah, damn. Tell me how you really feel.” Pac threw his hands up at last, taking a small step back but letting the faint tug in his heart keep him near the table. He gave the man a crooked grin, letting out a soft laugh he knew wasn’t hiding his anxiety as well as he wanted. Shit. Tread carefully. “Just a curious loner trying to make a friend; not trying to be weird. You’re alone, aren’t you?”
“Fuck off,” The man spat again, the glass in his hands fogging up from the heat of intensity his ironclad grip had. His shoulders were twitching as well, a threatening glower in the back of his eyes. The shadows didn’t help Pac’s case either, making his face much more hollowed and scary than he wanted.
Right. What a splendid start to your plan. Pac flinched at his own idiocy, finally planting his feet away from the table and keeping his hands up in an attempt at innocence, giving him a much weaker smile. “Right, sorry. I didn’t lead this off to a good start. I’m offering my company.”
“I don’t want it,” The man instantly growled pointedly, his hand still nursing the glass as he took a much bigger swig of it that made Pac wince. He saw dribbles of the drink trickling from his lips onto his chin, the glaze of the liquid’s effects only seen in faint glimmers within his eyes as he bared his teeth. “There’s a reason I’m here by myself. Leave me alone.”
That's sad, though. Especially with all of these drinks; the bartender had a right to be concerned. Pac pursed his lips as he glanced around at the rest of the room, nearly everyone else in company of someone as they clicked drinks together. Pac sniffed and shrugged, gesturing around the place with a hand as he noted wryly, “Well, your lonely drinking is a bit of a sad sight. Even the bartender thinks so. Would you rather sit here alone and continue indulging in a dangerously depressing ordeal, or are you okay with some company to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit when it comes up?”
The man didn’t seem phased by his concern at all, fingers still intently gripping onto his drink and seething at Pac for another moment before letting his eyes flick back down to the drink in his hands with a scowl. “You’re not funny. I don’t want your goddamn pity.”
Pac let out a small hum in thought, daring a step back closer to the table with reverence. The man shot him another dangerous look, but Pac let his hips brush against the table and his hand tease at the wooden beams making up the surface as he shrugged once more. “Aw, shame. I thought I was; usually I’m quite charming.”
He glanced around again before planting both of his hands on the table, both as an invite and to steady out his own sway from his liquor and the tormenting emotions he was fighting through. Stay on task, don’t pass out… “It’s not any pity, though. Figured it’d be nice to have someone else to talk to besides the liquor that won’t ever care to know your name.”
The man kept glaring up at him, even when Pac rested further down in his hands and gave him his most charming smile he could. He couldn’t hide the faint smugness of the idea in his mind, having a bit of pride in himself when he asked in a muse, “Speaking of which… What’s your name?”
Only a faint huff, brief in its breath, left the man’s lips in what could only vaguely hint at any sort of amusement whether it was with Pac’s joke or his general disposition. It was more than enough though regardless, making Pac’s chest spark faintly with hope even as the man turned his shoulder to him and responded crossly, “I don’t wanna talk, especially to you.”
Pac pursed his lips again, studying the tight grip his hand was on the glass instead with a polite but resigned guard. There was still about a third of a glass remaining, but it was going down steadily as the man took another swig of it in a silent challenge towards Pac’s statement. I mean, I get that I didn’t get off to a good start. But I think I should be a bit concerned about the fact that he’d rather nearly finish his third glass of alcohol before having a conversation with me or anyone. I think me and the bartender have a right to be a little concerned about this guy.
“Right…” He did his best to keep his tone a bit lighthearted so as to not spook or outright accuse the man, but he let a bit of his concern slip out as Pac gave the man a puzzled smile. “But you’d rather pour your sorrows into an alcoholic cup instead of talking about it? Or much rather drink them instead?”
The man bristled defensively, a darker curl of a sneer on his lips as he jerked his head back up to him, fists clenched once more in a threat. There was no room for any friendly conversation anymore, his voice curt and hinting at a snarl, “How about you fuck off? I don’t need a fucking babysitter; fuck off.”
Alright, poking the bear. Save this somehow, idiot. Pac backed away once again to try and give him a bit more space, hands tucking away and adjusting the blue sleeves of his sweater as he let out a dry chuckle and a small nod. “Yeesh, alright. I get it, poking a sore spot. Sorry.”
He hesitated, glancing around the room once more. He didn’t realize the loneliness creeping around his shoulders in comparison until he joined the odd rumination of the man he was next to. Even if it wasn’t the most pleasant energy, it was much better than what was lurking over his shoulders. Come on, Pac. Save this. You both need it.
“I’m not leaving though,” Pac finally spoke with a slight catch in his voice, fiddling with his fingers behind his back as he peered at the man through the sides of his eyes. The man still looked irritated, but he didn’t seem as tense as Pac went on gently, “I know what sorrow drinking looks like, and I don’t like how it tastes. Or how it feels. S’why I’m here; I wanna make sure you don’t feel like that. Just see if I can help, in any way.”
The man didn’t seem to take kindly yet to his plea, instead regarding him passively still with no hint of sympathy with his flinted gaze. He jerked his chin up, leering Pac down instead from the shadows still rippling around him from the darkness of early nighttime outside. “Tragic. You want me to feel sorry for you? Or open up my guts to you, a complete fucking stranger trying to nose into my business?”
Pac chuckled weakly in an attempt to try and shake off the bite behind his words, shaking his head with a small shrug. He dared a step closer to the table again, his fingers tapping the junction of his sweater before it met the dark jeans he had on. He kept his distance still, ducking his head low to remain impassive as he gestured to both of them with a hand. “Nah, not really. Just saying how it is. You don’t seem like the type to really care much anyways.”
“I don’t.” The man was curt and to the point, gaze still jaded as he didn’t move his eyes away. He challenged Pac with his stare, but he didn’t seem ready to punch him like he had before. Pac took it as a good sign of sorts, remaining where he was with a faint flicker in his chest. I wouldn’t say we’ll be friends anytime soon, and he still looks like he’s seconds away from biting into my head. But I’ll take this standstill and this awkwardness.
Luck’s on my side today. For now. So Pac let himself chuckle again, giving the man a wry smile and a small nod once more. He did his best to relax his body posture, trying to remain caring instead and rubbing his arms to soak in the comforting wool material his sweater was made of. “Yeah. Figured. That’s fair enough.”
The two wagered each other in a beat of silence, the man still glaring while Pac studied him and the ripples the shadows kept the stranger in. The glint of the man’s skin in the dropped glow was sullen, letting Pac see the sunken eyes behind him and making his heart flicker again briefly while simultaneously burying further into his body. It was achingly familiar, the feeling he could see on his face, and the idea of him looking into a mirror made his mind sway.
He looks like… He needs a friend. Like he needs this, but pushes people away. The tough guy act. A deeper twist in his chest coiled through him, making him wince and glance away as he studied his twitching hands instead decorated in small scratches. Think I’m a little familiar with that… Maybe not so much the tough guy act for myself, but for someone I know…
But this guy’s different. He can be different. I don’t know him, but I want to. Even if this whole plan fails, even if I’ve made this night somewhat better for him, then I’ll take it. God knows we both need this engagement.
Keep trying. Keep going. Pac shuffled where he stood, assessing their stance now with where they were at. Seeing that the man had relaxed just a smidge but still had the capacity to fling at Pac with a fist through his tense shoulders and hunched posture, Pac offered him another faint smile. “So? Your name?”
The man’s gaze hardened over again as Pac spoke, guarded once more as his eyes shifted over to him with no trace of amusement. He didn’t lurch up though, simply setting his hands firmly on the table as he looked anything but amused. “No.”
Pac let himself laugh though at it all, unfurling one hand to rest it on the table and tilting his head at the man again with emphasis. He couldn’t hide the slight exasperation he was feeling, but he squashed it down to try and lightly tease him instead, “Oh, come on. You’re not that stingy are you?”
“What if I am?” The other man growled, shifting in his seat. For a moment, Pac had a sharp lurch of fear and wonder if he would actually get up to dispatch Pac, but he only settled himself again and let a dark sneer lace his lips again with distaste. “You’re kind of being a dick; if this is your attempt at making friends, you’re doing a really shitty job at it. Certainly hope you don’t try to flirt with anyone like this; they’ll think you’re a fucking creep.”
Pac winced from the sting, but he let out another faint chuckle in understanding and presented a palm up to him in surrender before pointing a finger at him with a small grin he couldn’t squash. “Ouch, but fair. I would absolutely agree to that; luckily, I’m not flirting with you. I have a hard time believing that you’re as stingy and mean as you claim to be since you haven’t beat the shit outta me yet.”
Pac shrugged once more, leaning towards him the slightest bit in a small taunt with his smile molding into a smirk. Might as well have a bit of fun if I really am gonna get beat up. “If you really wanted me gone, you’d throw me out yourself. There’s gotta be some intrigue if you’ve let me stay this long.”
The man only stared in return, Pac’s hope dribbling and saturating more of the anxious aches away when he didn’t make any attempt to move. The flinted expression didn’t entirely leave his eyes, but they seemed more unreadable now as he narrowed them at Pac and kept only with the verbal threats for now. “What if I did beat the shit outta you?”
Pac felt both corners of his lips toying up now, his smirk widening a bit as he leaned more weight into his hands. He kept his eyes locked with his, now enjoying the different energy between them with the tension smoke now rose-tinted instead of dark. Even though he truly wasn’t intending on flirting with this stranger, he let his tone turn a bit coy as he invited him sweetly, “Okay. Do it.”
There was a long pause, both of them staring at each other again. The clamor around the room seemed to die down, whether it was clearing out or Pac was only in tune now with the man across from him, he wasn’t sure. But nothing would take him away from this moment, only listening to his heartbeat growing steadily louder with the intent brown eyes he found himself diving into now as they shone through the light.
Tell me your story, Pac’s mind whispered faintly, a flutter in his chest joint with it. His curiosity and intrigue swirled together, mixing in with the alcoholic concentration he had indulged in. Sing your music to me. Tell me everything.
But the man finally relented back, eyes casted downwards as he opted to look back into his drink instead. To Pac’s silent jubilation, however, he caught the smallest wisp of color starting to dash over the guy’s cheeks as he gripped his glass instead, muttering, “Whatever. Don’t wanna cause a scene.”
“Mhm.” Pac found himself humming through a grin he couldn’t squash once more, his whole body shining with his victory. He kept his voice as modest as he could, voice airy and feather-light, “Thought so. Thank you for sparing me.”
The man hunkered away, using the glass to shield his face somewhat as he slouched away back into the darker shadows with a faint scowl. Pac glanced down at the seat next to him, the last step into actually fully engaging and entering his bubble. His fingers drummed the table for a moment before he took a deep breath, keeping it muffled to not draw attention. Now or never. If he hasn’t kicked me out yet, maybe I do have a seat here. Maybe he just doesn’t wanna invite me himself.
I can always try, and if he really wants me to leave, I will. I have no intent on trying to make his night worse.
He took that last little step, sitting down now across from the man and folding his arms on the table. He felt the cold clasp of his gold chain running over his neck again before settling, brushing a few strands of hair away from his eyes as he finally engaged with his mysterious guest, “What are you grieving then?”
The man twisted his head up, furrowing his brows and glaring at him again as he noticed now that Pac had gotten comfortable. He leaned away from the table, but still made no aggressive gesture and had no real heat behind his words as he grumbled instead, “Fuck off.”
Pac couldn’t help a startled laugh leaving his lips, throwing his hands up dramatically before grinning over at him again. He leaned over more across the table, hands landing on it and tapping earnestly. “Oh, come on! We’re both two guys drinking and feeling a bit sorry for ourselves; you really think I’m gonna judge you? Come on, tell me.”
“You’re annoying,” The other man commented blithely, still hiding behind his glass as he took another sip. With a slight note of unease in Pac’s mind, he saw the last few slivers of liquid remaining in his third glass with a lurch deep in his gut. Makes me sick thinking about it…
So he shuffled more into himself and ducked his head, trying to keep his face as innocent as possible along with doing his best to seem welcoming and non-threatening. He folded his hands up and under his chin, keeping it elevated as he batted his eyes at him. “Please?” Anything to keep you from finishing the drink? Please?
The man considered the end of his drink, staring at it with cloudy eyes. Pac’s chest twisted again, feeling the thin line trudged by hitting a nerve, but he seemed to exhale as the man finally shoved away his drink, rubbing his face with a hand and a small groan as he finally grumbled, “An ex.”
Well, shit! Pac couldn’t help a startled laugh coming from him again, the other man shooting a look towards him but unable to say anything as Pac babbled on in surprise, “Oh, shit! No way, me too! Fuck our exes then, am I right?”
The man paused across from him, the tension that had crept back into his shoulders now repenting as he studied Pac now instead with odd intrigue. He definitely looked a bit more surprised, eyes arched and blinking for a moment with the aggression wavering. “…What?”
But Pac couldn’t stop himself from laughing, shaking his head and shoving himself back into the couch. There were swirling thoughts of his ex now worming around, rubbing his face and running it through his hair again with another huff. “Man, what a coincidence. You and me, drinking our souls away ‘cause of some stupid exes. I will drink to that.”
Before he could put too much thought into it, Pac lunged across and took the last sliver of alcohol left in the man’s drink, tossing the cup up into the air as he called out keenly, “Cheers!”
“Wait-“ The man started, reaching towards Pac with much wider eyes. But Pac was already swallowing the burn down, letting the rich liquid burn his throat. The taste reminded him of cedar wood but much more musky somehow, and he ended up wrinkling his nose with a faint gag as his throat closed up in protest, a small lurch of warning in his gut. Oh, ugh. I’ll regret that later.
“Jesus Christ,” Pac rasped, slapping his chest with a brief hacking cough. He gaped at the person across, scowling into his blank expression of shock as he stuck his tongue out with a wince. “What the hell do you drink, man? That shit’s strong.”
“It’s… Beer. I think. A beer mix.” The man was giving Pac an odd look, not entirely friendly still but replacing the aggression and annoyance previously there. It almost seemed to be similar to intrigue, albeit a bit more disturbed than that as he regarded Pac with a frown. “I see we’re both taking our breakups well, then.”
A bark of a laugh now rose out of Pac, startling his guest and a few of the last bar-goers as they glanced over briefly with annoyed looks before returning to their chatter. Pac’s head bubbled with the man’s words- and the sliver of alcohol that he had taken mixed with his. “Hah! He’s funny, look at that! He knows how to joke! How funny.” Woo, fun! He’s so fun!
The man across from him was looking a bit more perturbed now, jumping slightly when Pac leaned towards him with a blazen grin. His heart was thundering now, his brain chiming with his gurgling ideas that were only seconds away from drifting out of his mouth. Now or never! “Listen, listen. I got a great way to get over your ex. Or at least numb it all a little.”
The man scooted a little away from Pac’s intense lean towards his general direction, still looking uneasy as he blinked at Pac with a mild frown still twitching his face. “What?”
Pac reached for his arm still on the table, luckily snagging it before he could jerk away. The flinch the man had was intense, but he didn’t shake out of Pac’s grasp as he leaned towards him and emphatically gestured out to the rest of the room. “Listen, listen. Listen around us.”
There were a few beats of silence, catching the undertone of the musician’s song starting up again in their same slow and melodic beat. The chatter was still high with the few remaining folks, their sound resonating more in the growing desolate space, but his guest interrupted it all with another frown and observation in a grumble, “What am I supposed to hear? The music? That shit’s so mellow; it’s a fucking bar.”
At least we have the same taste; he’s so right. Pac did his best to focus on the task at hand and tapped his arm insistently, feeling the energy buzzing around him and letting his fingers catch glimpses of the muscular arms underneath the twitching skin. He gave his guest a firm shake of a head, leaning even closer as he gestured again with his hand. “Not just that. Listen to everything else going on.”
His guest definitely looked a bit more uncertain now, but to Pac’s delight he stayed and obeyed. He turned his head out towards the room, eyes furrowed in confusion and his nose twitching along. He had finally gotten out of Pac’s grip, noting the loss of heat and contact with a small sink in his chest, but he didn’t try to escape yet and stayed where he was sitting. Pac didn’t try to test it, both of them soaking in their surroundings in their own little bubbles.
That’s a good sign right? That he’s staying and listening to me? Maybe we clicked better than I thought; maybe he’s more in tune with the music around the world than I thought. That’s the hope and dream, at least.
Testing the gas pedal now as he gently touched on the cusp of his ideas, Pac let his lips ramble out the words that were threatening to burst from his brain, “There’s music everywhere. In the glasses tinking against each other, in the wooden floors and their thumps and creaks, in the laughter of people around us no matter how mellow or boisterous… God, it sounds amazing. It’s intoxicating. It brings me to life every day.”
The man seemed to be listening to Pac, still frowning but having an unreadable expression on his face when he angled his head back towards his direction. Pac didn’t want to take any chances, leaning in again as he took a deep breath. Last chance. Floor it before you lose him. “But you know what would be even better?”
The man turned to him entirely now, the faintest hint of some sort of curiosity sticking in his face within the light dangling above them. He caught it in the sling of darkness around them, in all of his other senses boggled from alcohol and the hum in the room. It made his heart leap much more than it had the rest of the night, that one string of hope being enough for Pac to floor it. Here we go.
So Pac grinned, his mouth feeling sloppy with his crooked lips and fumbling hand as he finally breathed out in an excited whoosh of words, “Singing to the world about how much our exes fucking suck.”
The man was jarred out of his curiosity, coiling back in surprise as his eyes jutted wide again. He looked even more confused and taken aback, the winded expression quickly dissipating under a small frown again beside his furrowed brow. “Huh?”
But Pac was giggling, all of it clouding around his brain in a golden image as his hand drifted out towards his arm again and skimmed it. His guest shivered with the ghost of touch, pulling away but having Pac’s attention as he pushed his agenda with urgency, “Just imagine it. We get these songs, cover songs or writing our own, we throw some instruments in there with some friends, and boom. We play to the whole fucking world about how much they suck.”
The other man opened his mouth, looking ready to protest, but Pac leaned against the table even more as his hands shot towards his now and gripped them. He jolted under the touch, shooting Pac a very surprised look even as he continued on dreamily, “And you know what the best part is? Our exes will have to sit there like ‘shit, what do we do?’ But they can’t do shit. They just gotta sit there and watch while we become popular and famous. Without them.”
That's how I want it to be, Pac’s mind slurred slightly, spinning a little and using the hands to ground him as he squeezed them. There was no returning squeeze, but the man didn’t let go yet as Pac took a few stabilizing breaths alongside loopy giggles. I wanna rub it in their fucking face. Show just how much better I’ve gotten along without it all. I can do it by myself, with better friends and better songs… Better instruments, better venues… Better everything. I want all of that!
The man across from him, however, was giving him the look that Pac only saw for the wild animals scrounging in the dumpster out back. It somehow looked scorning, yet mostly bewildered as the man finally questioned in a very baffled stammer, “Where the fuck did you get that idea from? Did you pull that right out of your ass?”
Pac felt his cheeks heat up slightly from it all, finally taking his hands back and folding them into themselves as he let out another breathless chuckle. He gave the man a timid smile, running a few strands of hair away from his face again as he hesitated only briefly before admitting, “Ah, well… My ex might’ve been a part of a band. Both of us, actually. Dunno, I thought it would be good revenge, but I don’t wanna do it on my own.”
The man furrowed his brow, looking unconvinced and suspicious as he studied Pac even closer. The scrutiny made Pac’s skin itch, along with the glinted words as he noted drily, “So what, you get drunk and go recruit people for this pity party?”
Ouch. Pac winced from the callout, having somewhat of a sober mind to feel a mild sting. He tried to clasp onto the odd euphoria waves instead again from his liquor, shaking his head and doing his best to steady his gaze on the other’s with a small frown and insistence in his words, “Do you really think this is all meant to be a pity party? I didn’t come to you out of pity, and this invite isn’t for pity. Don’t you want some sort of vengeance for how your ex hurt you?”
Now at last did Pac seem to reach the man’s heart again, seeing the flicker of consideration that made his chest bubble once more in victory. He seemed to be contemplating it, his eyes casting out and staring at the rest of the bar with a clouded look and a tight frown. He looked a bit tense again, but the gleam Pac had put in his eyes remained beneath the depths. I can work with that.
“I can tell you’re thinking about it,” Pac observed as casually as he could, glancing back down at the man’s hands with a small quirk in his mouth and a head tilt. His fingers drifted over the man’s hands, letting his thoughts continue to spill out of his mouth off-filter, “Do you have music experience? You gotta; you look like a drummer. You got the hands for it too.”
The man yanked his hands away from Pac immediately, but his eyes were blown wide again in shock as he stared at the shorter man. “How the fuck did you know that?”
Pac gave him a sloppy grin again, followed by a mumbling giggle. He reached up to tap his head with his fingers, squinting to try and look exquisite and refined. “Intuition. Performer intuition. And drunk intuition.”
The man scoffed, withdrawing his hands away and scowling faintly down at Pac with a slight shake of his head. “You’re a fucking weirdo.”
Pac continued to grin, mostly because now he didn’t think he could pull it away if he tried. He tucked his own hands back and rested his chin on one of them as he propped it up, using his other hand to wag a finger at the man with a triumphant smirk. “I can tell you’re thinking about it though; don’t deny it.”
The man paused, opening his mouth to speak for a moment before closing it again. He turned his face away, and Pac felt another blaze of delight seeing the contemplation still in his eyes along with a buzz of faint pink on his cheeks. “Shut up.”
“No denial, though!” Pac noted with another giggle, rubbing his face to try and remain focused through the cloudy haze starting to form around his eyes. He rubbed at them vigorously, shaking his head to remain alert. Not yet, not yet. I almost got him. Don’t tap out now.
His companion was clearly thinking about it still, but there was doubt and uncertainty still clear and vibrant in his expression as he regarded Pac warily with the frown still tightly woven into his lips. “We don’t even know each other. Why are you asking me?”
Pac shrugged, glancing out with him to look out at the bar. He looked at the empty barstool he had previously nursed himself, the taste of alcohol still very clearly staining his tongue as he let his thrumming heart respond for him in a murmur, “I mean, maybe we don’t know each other yet. But you’re going through the same shit I am. Wouldn’t it be better to go through it together?”
“I don’t know you,” The man repeated, Pac turning back to the man’s narrowed eyes still concealing everything he was feeling through a mostly unreadable expression. His fingers twitched again, no longer able to grab a glass but still twitching anyways for some sort of hold on something. “I don’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe me anything.”
Pac shrugged again, feeling his body slouching over the table more as he gave him a faint smile. He used both of his hands to prop up his drooping chin now, fluttering his eyes at the man. “You could get to know me, though. My name’s Pac. I think we should conquer this world together, yeah? No pity or owing anyone anything involved. We can just fuck around and play. It’ll be fun.”
The man gave him a long stare, both of them letting the very faint clamor of the bar lull in their silence. They were one of the last tables left, only a few bar-goers remaining now. Even the musician had stopped now, nothing but the quiet radio droning in the back to fill the void. Pac did his best to focus on the perturbed face in front of him though, the dark eyes assessing him oddly with a few more finger twitches. “You’re weird.”
Pac shrugged, keeping one hand propping his chin up as he extended out his other to the man for him to shake. He was still smiling, feeling his body buzzing with anticipation and hope while he waited. “And very convincing, it seems. What do you say?”
He stared at Pac’s exposed hand, the room holding its breath as he wagered the deal in front of him. Pac didn’t say anything further to plead his case, already giving it as much as he could. His body was lulling him away anyways, any of the mental grab he had before slipping away with the small tug of hope he had remaining in his chest. Please.
Another moment passed before the man groaned, tossing his head back briefly before lunging his hand forward, clasping it in a shake that Pac almost missed before he ripped his hand away again, folding his arms in front of his chest with a faint scowl and pink cheeks. “Ugh, fuck. Whatever. I don’t have anything better to do. One rehearsal. That’s it. If you prove to be a failure and actually suck at it, I’m not staying. I don’t wanna waste my time with some idiot I met at a bar.”
Pac’s body glowed with jubilee, more of his lips peeling back to make way for the larger grin taking over his face. He took his hand back and pressed them both to his face, giggling with an ecstatic grin. “Ooh, a challenge! I like challenges, good. This’ll be great.” He bobbed his head, gesturing out to the room and the rest of the world outside as he added, “Recruit anyone else you can think of, too. I think we could get a really cool band started with this; it’ll be so much fun.”
The man paused for a moment across from Pac, his eyes glinting for a moment. There seemed to be a sliver of hope within his eyes for a moment, but then it flickered away and was replaced with his deeper frown as he let out a small hum in thought. “Hmm… Yeah, maybe. I got someone in mind who might be curious.”
Pac clapped his hands together, a crisp noise within the more quiet club and making the man wince across from him briefly. Pac didn’t bat an eye though, still beaming with his victory. “Perfect! Oh, this is wonderful. We’re gonna be great best friends. Friends for life!”
The man wrinkled his nose, shaking his head with a hint of distaste in his face. He leaned back and away from Pac, shaking his head and kicking one of his legs out in a hint of him getting ready to leave. “Ew, disgusting. No.”
Pac giggled despite himself, beating his friend to the punch as he shot up out of his seat, making the other man wince from his quick movement. “You’ll grow onto me, I’m sure.” He glanced around for a moment before fumbling for the pen that was left for the man’s tab, stealing the customer’s receipt on the table and flipping it over. As the man only frowned at him, Pac finally shoved the piece of paper into the man’s hands while he stumbled out of his seat. “Here, here’s my number. Make sure to put Pac-Man in it, or else you’re not an official Pac friend.”
The man twitched back away from Pac’s stumbling body, glancing over at the slip of paper before returning his eyes back to Pac with another faint frown. “No. Not doing that.”
Pac stuck his tongue out at the man, seeing a startled expression appear on the man’s face afterwards as he chided with another small laugh, “Oh, lame! Whatever, I’ll convince you to do it sometime someday.”
The man opened his mouth again once more in defense, but Pac waved him off and let out another loose giggle, doing his best to balance on the heels of his feet as he hummed with another smile. “Oh well. I’ll get out of your hair before I’m stumbling too much out of the bar. See you later, mystery man! Mystery bald man!”
The man’s face burned much more intensely now as he stiffened in his rise to get out of his seat, turning his gaze away from Pac in embarrassment and gritting his teeth as he hissed, “Shut up!”
“What else can I call you, then?” Pac mused as he stepped back, lingering only to smirk at the man with an innocent shrug and palms up to emphasize his expression. “You could tell me your name! That could get me to stop!”
“Fine!” The man snapped, followed by him ducking his head and glowering at Pac. His cheeks were still a bit rosy from embarrassment, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth with another flicker in his eyes. “Fine, it’s Fit. Now fuck off.”
Fit! Fit, Fit, Fit! His brain chanted the name in his head like a reward, his feet hopping excitedly as the name now stuck to the face and made his smile grow wider. “Fit! What a fit name! Hah! It’s nice to finally know it! This is gonna be great!” He finally allowed himself to stray away from the table, heading towards the exit while waving emphatically to Fit right before he left and called back to him enthusiastically, “Text me later, Fit man!”
“Fuck off!” Fit shouted back at him, waving his hand dismissively as he didn’t watch Pac go. But Pac caught the glimpse of Fit’s reddened cheek still as he left, the dingling of the bell chiming above him as he shoved his way out of the bar and into the chilly night with a successful grin, feet tapping excitedly with a wide smile.
Score! Score, score, fucking score! He let himself celebrate the whole way home as well, the sights blurring around him with the familiar traces he made to head back home while his body buzzed with energy. He was unable to stop the small giggles leaving his mouth as he hopped along home, a skip in his step and an excited flutter in his heart. I got someone! He may be a bit broody, but he wasn’t actually that bad!
We’re going through the same shit; he understands. Maybe we could be good friends! Let me remain hopeful! I hope he really will join us! I gotta rely on him to text me though… Hopefully he will!
Pac did his best to not fret about it for the rest of the night, letting himself leave the bus he had apparently gotten into near his apartment complexes as he found his building and trudged along, stumbling into his apartment with a fumble of keys and collapsing into slumber the moment he had gotten into his sleeping attire and clambered into bed. No more thoughts swam in his head, only clouded now by the drifts of excitement he felt towards the whole event.
And luckily, by the next morning with a groggy headache, an upset stomach, and a few odd dreams later, he reached for and glanced down at his phone to see an unregistered contact number with just two words blinking through his screen. “It’s Fit.”
Pac let himself smile down at the words, the quiet click unlocking it as he typed away a response, “perfecto!! we’re gonna make history, just you wait :)”
“Whatever.” The text read back not too long afterwards, definitely not interested in chatting but having the decency to at least respond. Pac didn’t pay too much mind to it right now, instead snuggling back into his blankets with a soft sigh in relief and joy. He let himself smile even wider too, his heart starting to pound to the first few beats of a drum he could hear in the distance.
A new beginning. A new start, new friends… This’ll be good for me. Maybe for the both of us. I got a good feeling about this.
I’m ready to make history.