[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

[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.

[quantities]

What - you -

[Girls crushing on him because of his uber friendliness is one thing, but. A guy? Psyducks.]

Moi? Je suis beau?

[He wasn't even... He doesn't hit on boys. Not intentionally...? Wow Romain way to have a crisis.]

I mean - Merci. Thanks. But I wasn't...

[Wait. Is he making fun of him. IS HE!!!]

What I mean is - I don't like guys like that.

[umbralla]

Oui, oui, je comprends. [His voice is getting sharper, anger turned inward rather than outward, and he pushes his seat out abruptly.] Ce n'est pas toi. C'est moi.

[He stands up, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket.]

Merci pour - le tout. [Talking to him, coming out with him, humouring the stupid, stupid crush he didn't even know existed.] I am sorry.

[quantities]

[Wait! What!]

What? Hey - [He reaches for Ghyslain's sleeve, because this took a really serious turn.]

Cela ne signifie pas que nous ne pouvons pas être amis. A moins que -

[... well. If Ghyslain only gave him a second of his time because he was looking for something more, then... no point wasting it any further. Which is a shame, but nothing Romain hasn't dealt with before.]

Je aime à te parler de toute façon. D'accord?

[bluhbluhBLUHBLUH wait let's try humor instead.]

C'mon, don't leave me hanging with a half-eaten cheeseburger and a bunch of beers. That's just sad.

[umbralla]

[Ghyslain stares down at his sleeve, then back up at Romain. He's nervous, guarded, but he's also a bit embarrassed as the young man continues to speak. It's - not a problem. It's okay. Not just him being gay, but being attracted to him. It's all okay?]

Moi aussi. [It's hard to hear in the crowded pub, but hopefully his little smile gets the point across. If Romain says it's okay, then it's okay. He swallows a million little gut-punches of pain in his music classes, much worse ones, so he can swallow this.

Slowly, he pockets his wallet again and sits back down. But instead of touching his beer or his fries, he just looks down at his hands, picking at a thumbnail. He's still not sure how to proceed.]

[quantities]

[Yay, it worked. It's awkward as hell but.]

So, uhm. [clearing his throat.] What were we talking about before I brought up girls?

[umbralla]

Professors. [Take another sip of your beer, Romain. That's what he's doing.] I think.

[quantities]

Right, right. So you got all the music ones, right? I heard they're tough as hell.

[SURE LET'S TALK ABOUT FALLON YOU'RE PICKING ALL THE WINNING TOPICS HERE ROMAIN]

[umbralla]

[ROMAIN.

An absolute pall crosses his features, but he carefully rearranges his face into something he hopes is neutral, and is actually hard as steel.]

They can be managed.

[quantities]

That's one word for it. Did you get the Russian one that retired a few years back? What was his name - [thinking...] Sergei-something?

[He just knows he heard horror stories of him slamming the piano's fallboard shut on the fingers of his students.]

[umbralla]

[That seems to crack a bit of his hard shell, as he nods with a very rueful smile. He knows that one.]

As a child, when I first arrived. My shadows, they could not become solid until he tutored me.

[In other words, he learned to use them as a shield against the sudden attacks. That's when he was switched out of the man's class, but with no small amount of admiration from most of the staff.]

[quantities]

Oh. Well, he was - good for something. I guess.

[yikes...]