Who: Alex McManus and Victor Song
Where: Alex's trailer
When: Afternoon of October 23
What: Victor meets a cute boy and gets his cards read
Warnings: Probably mild, maybe a little bit of concealed lust on Victor's part



Days passed, the weather was chilly for what Victor was used to and he’d taken to wearing strictly sweaters since they’d arrived in London. When he looked in his closet and counted how many he owned, it even made him a little sad. Why did he have so many goddamn sweaters? It was as much of a sin as having more than one pair of fuzzy slippers in his opinion… he had to admit to himself then and there that he had next to no style. They were shapeless, some of them had small holes moths ate into them, some were jewel tones, it was really unacceptable. Maybe even more so than usual because of what he was about to do.

He hadn’t mingled with any of the performers aside from Ilinca yet and while he was grateful for her, it had been more of an inevitability that he’d talk to her rather than an effort made on his part. Victor wanted to belong here, but to do so, that would mean that he’d have to put himself out there. Make a real effort. When he considered what his biggest challenge was as he sipped a hot toddy he’d made himself the night before, he realized what it was with no small amount of shame: making male friends. He felt safer around women because there was no… tension, no potential for things to get messy, no way that his intentions could be mistaken.

He didn’t want it to always be that way, he wanted to fight his fears, face his insecurities and for once in his life, be brave rather than take the path of least resistance. At least, that was the pep talk he gave himself before he fell asleep on the armchair he was nestled in, mug still in his hands, blanket pooled around his shoulders and legs.

Today, he was going to challenge himself, he was going to do something different. Yes, today, Victor Song was going to face his fears and venture outside his trailer and meet with another man. That man would be Alex, the one who’d called himself a warlock and had offered to read the tarot cards for him. Though eccentric, he seemed sweet and Victor had to force himself not to smile when he thought of him. It was way too early to be smiling over men he hadn’t met yet, especially ones that called themselves warlocks. But he looked... very, very, very nice. Alright, kind of dreamy. Sometimes Victor hated himself.

With that, he took a shower and scrubbed himself a little red in his building anxiety. His hair would need to be touched up in about a week’s time but it was still a soft, sweet pink and he stood before the mirror, pushing it this way and that, fluffing it with his fingers and cursing its insubordination. Finally, he was somewhat comfortable with looking at it after he took a hair dryer and hairspray to it.

Should he bring a gift? He should bring a gift, he thought as he slipped on a black sweater instead of a more embarrassingly colored one and blue jeans with black converse. He looked… sensible, he thought, nodding in the mirror, holding his chin up a little and trying a smile on… which quickly faded as he noticed his teeth. Better not to think of that right now, he told himself as he got to boiling a large batch of a hot toddy with more honey than he usually liked and a little less whiskey than he’d pour for himself. Neutral was a better way to start off than bombarding Alex with the potent burn he liked. When he had finished that, he poured it carefully into a large thermos, took two mugs out of his cupboard (which didn’t strike him as silly until he was halfway to Alex’s trailer, goddamn it he thought, of course Alex would have cups) and set off for his destination.

A chill went down his spine, he really should’ve warn a scarf, but he didn’t want to look like his mother had dressed him. He passed other trailers, squinting at the names on them, occasionally distracted by a worker washing equipment or writing on sign-boards outside of the erected tents.

Finally, after a bit of wandering, he found Alexander McManus’ trailer… he thought that was the right one. After all, how many ‘Alexanders’ could there be, right? Not a lot, he tried to convince himself as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet a few times and clear his throat.

He knocked on the door twice and tilted his head towards it for any sign of life or a reply. Then another thought struck him as he stood there, clutching the mugs to his chest, holding the warm thermos: Alex didn't know he was coming. Damn, he really should’ve contacted him beforehand to see if he’d be there, why did he have to be so scatter-brained? Why, why, why?