Re: [Webster's Vinyl: Holly & Dietre]
It was absolutely ballsy to ask someone if they hated their boyfriend. "You were curious. Got it," Holly deadpanned. "You know, most people who hate someone? They aren't going to just tell you. And it sounds kinda entitled, like you're entitled to the person you're asking about. Just saying," he finished, keeping it chill, advice given because he was there, and because Dietre was there, and why not? He shook his head and that maybe? Not surprising. "You think he should be more interested in someone like you, huh?" Obviously.
"I never said anyone sets out to hurt the one they love." If Dietre tried to tell him that he'd never hurt anyone he loved? Holly would immediately call bullshit on that. It was something that just happened, and it was way unrealistic to say it didn't. But Holly wasn't an optimist. He was, however, a realist. "It happens, and then we're all bloody assholes, because everyone does it." Simple, right? "We all say shit we don't mean when we're hurt or angry. That's real."
He acknowledged the agreement about artsiness with a nod. He would've asked about it, tried to find similarities and differences, but he got the feeling that Dietre wasn't into being around him. No big deal. Holly had already learned that his relationships here weren't going to be the same as where he'd come from. Did it bum him out? Sure, but he was too much himself to, like, be anything else. Take him or leave him, he was this.
Gloomy Sunday was handed over easily. Holly liked sharing good music, and for all of Dietre's Noah-entitlement? He was still pleased that Dietre was into the song. "You can take those, you know, since Noah's a friend. On the house. Tell him thanks when you get around to it." He reached for the turntable button, to keep it from spinning without anything on it. "You can tell him all the ways I don't measure up, too, that would be nice. And, you know, I have some sheet music for Gloomy Sunday, if you want it." Had Dietre told him about playing piano? He had no clue, but whatever.
He went to the counter, ducked down to pull out a box of sheet music he'd been organizing, and he held out an old, worn piano score for Gloomy Sunday, which he held out.