InsaneJournal

Perhaps meeting somebody you had only exchanged light meaningless conversation with over the network was not the best idea. He attributed this risk taking to his prolonged exposure to Wei Ying who he was sure if he were in his position would embrace the opportunity. Lan Huan too, he was of the mind that Lan Zhan needed to make friends, more friends, and get out more. He disagreed however his arguments had fallen on deaf ears much to his chagrin.

They had agreed on a place, a diner, and Lan Zhan was definitely facing a cultural exchange as he perused laminated menus and avoided eye contact with an over eager waitress who seemed to have hot coffee readily on hand. It was very different from what he was used to, less crowded for one, and he imagined or rather hoped the 50s aesthetic was intentional given the uniforms and overall experience from the moment he had walked in the door.

Names had also been exchanged as well as a location but he realised too late that they had not informed one another of how the other looked. Hopefully that would not be a problem but it was too late to worry about that. He would just need to keep an eye on the door and use gut instinct to guide him in the direction of who it was he was meeting. Nerves were present, lurking in the depths of his stomach, causing him to lightly tap his fingers on the table. It was rhythmic, familiar but not, a tune he had been either humming, tapping or playing ever since he was a child. He didn't know why or how he had learned it, had assumed (possibly incorrectly) that his mother must have hummed it to him when he had been younger.

The waitress was still hovering and Lan Zhan acquiesced to her unspoken demands, allowing a coffee to be poured into his empty mug.