[for romain]

[umbralla]

[It's not hard to find Ghyslain when he's not in class or the dorms - he doesn't go out a lot, and when there aren't classes in the music room, he'll most likely be there. How often do you find a giant grand piano to play, after all? Even his family had a much smaller one, slightly out of tune, which grated on someone with such a natural ear when he came back from lessons and had to practice on it.

Today he's playing something he remembers his older sister listening to; not his kind of music, but the musician was damn good on piano, so the melodies stick out and he picks them out when he hasn't got a song in mind. It's slow at first, then picks up to the actual speed of the song, light and flourishing.

He's clearly in his own world, pale eyes dreamy and head swaying back and forth. In a soft, deep voice, he tries to translate the lyrics he can remember, but they come without scansion and rhyme because it's so off the top of his head.]

Comments

[umbralla]

To have so much memory... it must be great and very painful. I do not know how I would handle such a thing.

[He's a little too serious, this one. If Romain hasn't guessed. The thought of eidetic memory alone is enough to send him nearly all the way back into brooding, but eventually he looks back at Romain and smiles.]

I do imagine that you would be much the same, though. You would do such things - pour la frime. Show off?

[quantities]

I wouldn't worry about that. Living as long as he has? He has to be used to it, man.

[let him drink. And eat some more.]

Oh yeah. I'd be doing it to impress everybody. Never forget someone's birthday, are you kidding?

[umbralla]

That only means more memory.

[He still doesn't like the idea. But Romain is more positive in general, always seeing the lighter side of things, from what Ghyslain can tell so far.]

Or an anniversaire. I have heard that - les petites amies, they can be sensitive about such things. [He replays what he just said in his head - not the fact that it was obvious prying about Romain's love life, because that was deliberate, but the dashes of French - and shakes his head, looking down at his own plate of fries and gravy.]

My English, it is getting worse. [Oh well. Just keep drinking, he's down with that approach.]

[quantities]

Oh yeah. [he knows that too well.] Super sensitive. But then we'll remember different dates for everything. Or she'll want to celebrate an anniversary that doesn't even make sense. It's so weird.

[don't get Romain to talk about relationships. Young as he is, the two actual girlfriends he had burned him pretty damn bad. It's why he keeps to casual things now. Friends with benefits, not much beyond that. He has explained before he's just not ready. It's not them, it's him.]

Don't even worry about your English. [all smiles. Drinking moooar.] So you don't have a girlfriend?

[umbralla]

[Well, there's at least partial confirmation. There is more than gay and straight, of course, but he hasn't seen a lot of the gray area - mostly the solid black of having another blasphème on his track record. Not that they know, they'll never know, but the hiding isn't that much more comfortable.

He's staring so hard into his fries now. Like the right answer might be found in the smears of gravy across his plate.]

Non. I have - never been with someone so long. [Someone. It's the most he'll allow right now, with Romain giving no outward sign that the girlfriend is in the past.] Not long enough for an anniversary.

[quantities]

Trust me, you're better off this way. Being free is way more fun.

[he says so with his drink up to his mouth. Oh its empty.]

Want another?

[umbralla]

Ouais, merci.

[He says it mildly, with a little nod. That comment stung something inside him, something deep and still festering.]

There are many people who believe that. It is good that you are so open about it.

[quantities]

Yeah, well - we're still young, you know? There's still so much we're figuring out about ourselves. Bringing somebody else into the equation is just asking for trouble.

[being bitter really doesn't suit him. Which is probably why he sounds so casual still.]

Hey - yeah. Bring us two more? Thanks.

[and back to you, ghyslain.]

[umbralla]

[He feels the attention return to him and swallows hard. This wasn't where he wanted the night to go. It's his fault for asking, for bringing up the topic at all, but he's lost in memories now and hearing Romain say such hard things isn't helping.]

Je pense que - I think that it is very easy to use someone when you think that way. Not always... délibéré, delberate, but easy.

[quantities]

'Use' someone? [squint.] How do you mean?

[umbralla]

Is this not the right expression? [He finally looks up, but his eyes are still distant.] If you are not clear, if you only say so - it is difficult to explain.

[While waiting for another drink to wipe this from his mind, he'll just shove a few fries in his mouth. He's been eating very delicately up until now, which makes the gesture strange, but at least he swallows before speaking again.]

As I have said, you are open. When one is not open, it will hurt.

[quantities]

Well... I never lead anyone on. If that's what you mean.

[more like he says he's not ready for a relationship and calls it a day. But he's not going after girls 24/7 either. Just being his oh so charming self, and if someone responds? Great.]

I've been hurt. It sucks. A lot.

[umbralla]

Lead on... [He thinks about that for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. Picturing it literally, a person being guided in a direction that's false.] ... that is the expression. I did not mean -

[His brows knit together in worry, until he finally looks away again.]

- non. Ouais. Moi aussi. [Even his self-expression in French is slipping now.]

[quantities]

Yeah? What'd she do?

[the more alcohol, the less tact.]

[umbralla]

[Oh god, how much can he say. At least the beer is here, so he can take a long drink of that first.]

It is as I said. Someone who is free, but is not open about that. I did not understand. [Another drink, and a bit of an edge creeps into his voice.] I was not allowed to understand.

[And then, because he's starting to feel the alcohol and has briefly forgotten that French isn't his license to say anything without being understood anymore, just about under his breath:]

Fils de pute.

[quantities]

[meanwhile, his fingers just linger around the cool bottle. He looks pensive. Talking about what happened to him could just out the other party, and he's really not into naming names.]

I hate dishonesty. Don't blame you for being pissed.

[bluh bluh bluh.]

How's your food?

[umbralla]

[Changing the topic is probably a good idea all around. He looks embarrassed that it went that far, glancing sidelong at Romain.]

C'est bon. I like the... chips here. [That was two linguistic hurdles he just hopped at once. Reward? Another fry, picked out more carefully and eaten more delicately again.] It could be true, what you say about being free. I just do not know how to meet people either way.

[quantities]

[his smile gets easier. He knows what that's like; he didn't always have the confidence and friendliness he has now.]

It's a matter of getting out there, I guess. Butting in uninvited works pretty well for me.

[a playful smirk now, looking at Ghyslain because oops, that's what he did.]

Either you make a new friend or you get yelled at. Could be worse, really.

[umbralla]

I did think about it. [He's looking down again, but smiling just as playfully.] Telling you to go away.

[quantities]

See, if you had done that, you wouldn't have a french-speaking buddy to drink beer with!

[ :D ]

Félicitation.

[umbralla]

[He shifts his eyes back up to Romain's, smiling broadly, heart absolutely racing in his chest. Oh, he's never had a crush hit quite this fast. He barely knows what to do with himself. His eyes are alight, cheeks burning, and he just wants to kiss Romain so badly that he realizes he could be in serious danger with too much more beer.

As it is, he just laughs breathlessly, nodding and lifting his glass to meet the toast.]

[quantities]

[ :*!!!! Wait no homo

There's something so boyish about his smile now, even when his features are already incredibly jovial on a normal day. He grins, their bottles clink and he puts his up to his lips. This is totally not intentional.]

This is gonna sound weird, but you have a seriously great smile. Anyone ever tell you that? I'm surprised you don't have, like. Ten girls texting you right now.

[umbralla]

[And then his heart breaks, just a little. One of his almost-friends at the school, a girl slightly younger than him, told him once about "straight" girls and how freely they compliment and how it can feel like a knife in the gut. Men are not the same, he said, but now he understands.]

It does not sound weird. Simply - unfortunate. [He doesn't drink after the toast, seriously bad manners and (some say) bad luck, but he's suddenly lost the taste for it.] I am - I do not -

[He pulls both lips between his teeth this time, releases them with a sigh.]

- I have had interest from girls. But they do not interest me.

[There we go. Done.]

[quantities]

[he squints, listening... And then it clicks and his eyes go wide.]

Oh - dude, I'm sorry - I just assumed 'cause -

[because it's what every normative person does, really.]

Man, I said a lot of dumb stuff tonight, didn't I? Shit, I'm an idiot. Sorry.

[sheetsheetsheet]

[umbralla]

Do not apologise. [He insists on that quickly, right after the second "sorry."] I have not been clear... plutôt, I have tried to hide it.

[Now that they're getting honest, he may as well just be totally honest, let Romain leave if he's going to. Get all the shit out on the table.]

I did not tell you to leave the music room because - tu parles Français. [Now he looks right away, not just down, eyes fixed in the opposite direction. He’s switched to French for a reason this time.] Et tu est beau. Très beau. Mais… c’est fou, ça, je comprends. C'est stupide. Tu n’est pas – comme ça. Je l’aurais déviner.