Luke Quinn (belfastian) wrote in mnhttnprjct, @ 2010-06-13 23:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | luke quinn, max yorke |
WHO: Luke Quinn and Max Yorke.
WHAT: Max has a bad day and Luke tries to be a good friend. Technically, he fails.
WHERE: The Zenith in District 2.
WHEN: Wednesday, June 9th.
RATING: PG as there are very few swear words. They're kinda harmless.
MAX: While he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing with all this, Max couldn't resist the lore of a new vegetarian restaurant. Or at least that was his story and he was sticking to it for the time being. Still, it really didn't explain why he had taken at least fifteen minutes after he had printed out directions on Google to pick out shirt, not to mention another five to quickly wash his hair. He tried not to think about it as he walked the ten blocks or so to where the restaurant was located, eventually arriving at the place almost fifteen minutes late. Once inside, he bypassed the hostess and went directly to a booth in the back of the eatery to the patch of brunette hair he assumed was Luke.
"Hey. Sorry," he started as he slid into the booth and offered an 'I'm Sorry' type of smile. "I had to find a clean shirt." Or play fashion show with his clean shirts. And judging at his half wet hair, Max had to wash that as well.
LUKE: As far as all things considered, Luke hadn't been waiting very long when Max arrived. Then again, he wasn't supposed to be waiting at all. He had merely mentioned that he was going to happen to be in one location at a specified time and he thought he should have shared that with him. At least he could say with certainty that he was merely trying to be a good friend and trying to cheer them up with food that given a choice he might never eat. And he certainly didn't make sure he was well groomed but casual for dining out alone with no expectations of friends showing up.
And he was definitely not overly pleased that Max showed up. Just the regular happy. "Hey," he smiled. "I've only just ordered tea," he held up his teacup to emphasize. "How are you?" he asked.
MAX: Friends casually dined all the time! For instance, Noah and he would often eat at this dirt cheap Chinese place near Noah's, though thanks to the past week he hadn't been doing any of that. Perhaps that was why he was a bit excited to actually be getting out of the house and talking to someone that wasn't his coworkers, or even worse, his neighbors cat, which was just sad.
"Ummm... irked at some things, but other than that I'm good." Actually, the American government did more than just irk him, but he was trying to save that for another day/time. "You?" Other than the tea.
LUKE: Yes. Friends. That was the first step anyways, he reasoned, according to every cliched movie he'd ever seen. And to be inordinately patient as well. Normally when he talked to people, it was only at work or when he was yelling at one or more of his neighbors to shut up about their family/relationship/whatever problems. It was, well, nice to just relax and talk, even if it was just as friends.
"Life," he smiled wistfully, setting down his cup and eying Max. "That is about all I have on it, really. Other than a good old Irish adage: whiskey solves everything," he laughed, flipping open the menu and staring at the choices he was completely unfamiliar with. He tried not to look lost and confused while he did so.
MAX: "I think the whiskey in this country causes more problems than it solves," was his answer to that and the look on his face signaled that perhaps he wasn't a real fan of the drink. Hell, Max wasn't a real fan of any drink that actually tasted like alcohol, preferring his drinks to be nicely masked by the flavor of something else. Either that or beer. He could down beer pretty easily.
Picking up the other menu that was sitting on the end of the table, he opened it and stared at the offering, knowing pretty quickly that he was going to have a hard time deciding on things. One glance up at Luke indicated to him that perhaps he wasn't quite used to a menu like this since most places had some meat offerings. "Tofu takes on the flavor of whatever you cook it in."
LUKE: "You're most certainly right, but how else could they get everyone into church? Have to make them sorry for something," he chuckled, not perturbed by Max's reaction. He vaguely recalled at their first encounter how Max stayed with cheap beer rather than anything harsher. Not that he noticed such things, but they were hard to ignore all the same. Despite the Irish stereotype, he wasn't an alcoholic in the least bit. Just a lover of anything that incited the rest of the pub to get into a frenzy.
Now he really couldn't resist a sheepish smile. A carnivore really stood out in the herbivore environment. "I be that obvious, eh?"
MAX: Oh Luke. He knew nothing of this Catholic guilt you spoke of, but it sure was a bit amusing to hear about it. Being raised with just a very vague touch of Christianity, the whole feeling bad for living was a bit lost on him and quite frankly, he was happy for that. But yes. The moral of the story is that there were a few harder things Max could stand, but there definitely wasn't whiskey. You could keep that to yourself, Luke.
"Oh, definitely. You have a look of what the fuck is seitan," he replied in a very matter-of-fact manner. "It's a classic rookie move."
LUKE: At that, he laughed. "I really don't have a fecking clue what this 'say-tan' is." He turned the menu so it was standing and facing right side up toward Max, his eyes blinking over the top. "Help?"
MAX: Don't worry. About five years ago, Max was in the same boat with this whole No Meat thing, so he had to figure out all these weird meat substitutes on his own. At least Luke had someone here to explain things to him. "Seitan's made from wheat. It's probably the most similar to the texture of meat," he started as he still stared down at his menu, occasionally looking over the top of his own back at Luke. "Tofu is soybeans. Tempeh is also soybeans, but a completely different texture. I think TVP is also soy, but that's really only good if you are trying to mimic ground beef."
LUKE: As Max explained to him the different types of substitutes available to him, Luke slowly turned the menu back toward himself and was carefully perusing the menu, looking for the words he was defining. "I think I'll go with tofu. I'm still a little a little scared of wheat pretending to be meat." As the waitress came up, he handed over his menu and ordered one of their sandwiches. He waited for her to get Max's order and leave before he spoke again. "So what are you working on with your pianos?" Lame, but he really was just curious.
MAX: Wheat pretending to be meat was sacrilegious, but soy doing the same thing was quite all right? Guess some people just had odd preferences in this world. As for his own food, Max (who didn't have a problem with sneaky wheat) ordered himself a seitan gyro and a side Greek salad as he was apparently in the mood for Greek food today. He also decided to get his own tea and once the waitress had stepped away, he turned his attention back to Luke.
"With my pianos?" The question sounded odd, though it did make him smile for a moment. "Umm. I guess just the usual stuff. Some songs. Some piano prelude. I just finished a thing for woodwinds. And a symphony, but I've been perpetually working on that since I was seventeen or so." Was that what you meant by working on pianos?
LUKE: He wasn't quite sure what he himself meant by his question, but he honestly didn't know how the whole artistic process worked. In a way, he was like a small child when they didn't know something - ask weird questions and hope the answer made sense. In this case it kind of did, though he made a mental note to search 'prelude' when he got back to his flat. "The classical stuff, right? Sorry, I don't know a lot." He scratched the back of his neck, the familiar sign that he was a bit nervous. "Probably because I am not great at it," he laughed, remembering his wonderful limerick skills or lack thereof. Ultimately he was trying to distract Max from what had pissed him off earlier. If he learned a bit more about him in the process? That was just a bonus.
MAX: He wasn't the only one who wasn't quite sure how the artistic process worked. To the day, he still had trouble explaining to people just how he wrote music, or at least in a nice way that sounded better than he just sat down and did it. That was the truth, but it didn't really answer any questions. As for trying to distract him from being pissed off at the American government and people that supported it yet again, music was probably the best way to do that, so Luke was definitely on the right track with that one.
"Yeah, that's classical stuff. And that's OK. I only know a lot about it because that's all I ever do." At that statement, Max made a little face because, wow, that sounded really lame out loud. "There are probably things you're really good at that I suck at like..." Fill in the blank, Luke.
LUKE: Well he didn't know what would successfully distract him! Luke had just hoped that since music seemed to be his passion, it would be the most successful. He smiled at Max's confirmation of his admission over it. It was, dare he say it, cute. Not that he'd actually admit that to Max. Not yet anyways. He was just barely able to confirm that Max might consider him as a friend since he was willing to show up when Luke sort of but didn't quite invite him out to eat. At his half question half statement, Luke had to pause and think for a moment. What was he good at? It wasn't as though he could mention to him 'Oh yes, well I'm great at shooting a man from a rooftop,' or 'I can make a nail bomb like no other.' He could brag that he thought he was great at, well, sucking, but it was way too soon for that conversation. "Well, have ya ever played rugby?" he offered. Luke had an inkling that if Max's passion was music, he probably didn't play a lot of sports.
MAX: Music. Music would always distract him, probably to the annoyance of a lot of other people. If Luke really wanted to hear all about music stuff that would most likely go over his head, by all means just ask and you shall receive. And then some. As for the hobbies, it was definitely best not to mention being a good sniper or bomb maker. However, rugby was a very safe option, though Max had to admit he didn't know much about the sport. He was lucky enough to understand the rules of football a.k.a. soccer. "Umm. Well, I would have to play it in school sometimes," he started as a slight look of embarrassment came over his face. "Frankly, I was always wimping out and never wanted to do it because I was afraid to break my hands."
LUKE: He couldn't help but smile. Granted, it made sense that a piano player wouldn't like to have their hands broken during such a vigorous sport, but the thought of Max as a kid trying to run away from the ball was hilarious. "It was a national pastime back home. So in my defense, either I had to be good at sports or good at music. And since I'm pure shite at anything artistic-" unless building a bomb in less than twenty minutes counts- "I went with beating up other guys with a set of rules." He shrugged. "Probably not the best idea. My dad cheered when I gave one of the blokes on the other team a black eye."
MAX: Oh. He definitely was the kid who ran away from the ball, though thankfully he wasn't one of the Duck and Scream types. No, he just did everything in his power not to actually have to participate in any form of sport. Well. Max could run track, but that was really about it when it came to physical activity for him. "Oh. Well that's always fun. You probably beat up kids like me with those rules," he answered with obvious joking in his voice. "So what are your parents like?"
LUKE: "No, I only beat up those that played, so you were probably in the clear." He took a moment to sip his tea while he pondered how the hell he could answer Max's question. There was only so much he could say while still not revealing exactly what he had been up to which he was certain would alienate him from the adorkable man forever. Placing his mug down, he inspected his fingernails before responding. "I didn't know my dad that great. He spent a lot of time in jail. Last I saw him, he was still in there." He hated to describe it as such, but Luke figured that was one of the best ways to end the little bit on the man. "My mum, she was nice. We were poor, but she made sure I was clothed and fed all the time. So I suppose I owe a lot to her." He didn't ask a question in response. Rather, he waited and watched to Max's reaction.
MAX: "Oh," was all the answer he could muster up in response to that. In asking him about his family, Max had been anticipating some sort of answer indicating that Luke's family was just as boring and average as his own. Instead, he received an answer that was not only awkward, but actually succeeded in making him feel rather stupid for asking it in the first place, which caused him to look down at the table as he tried to figure out something to say as the awkward silence grew. Eventually, he just blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "My parents had to sell one of the family cars so I could have music lessons at the Conservatoire when I was a teenager."
LUKE: He wasn't expecting anything in return, really. When your life consisted of living so far down the bottom of the totem pole you're eating dirt, there wasn't a lot to be bothered about. Of course, this was all from his singular point of view, so he didn't think about the fact that perhaps it might be unsettling to other people. Max's confession about the car forced him into a wistful smile. It must be nice, he thought, having more than one car. "They sound like good people. What are they like?"
MAX: It was unsettling to other people and even though Max's parents really were rolling in money by any means, the other man's childhood was just a tad bit shocking to him. Hence the word vomit about his own family. And while they did have two cars, it certainly said something about their economic status that one needed to be sold in order for their son to continue with the proper musical training. "Well my Mum is a bank worker and my Dad works at the Jaguar plant on the assembly line," he started, thankfully they were pushing past that little awkward blip. "Dad's kind of quiet and Mum's a bit outrageous. And they've both always been really supportive parents, especially with music. And other stuff."
LUKE: He pushed past his little moment of regret at sharing information about his parents as he smirked at Max's sharing about his parents. They sounded nice and normal, possibly a bit eccentric, but that sounded like Max so he could happily roll with that. The tidbit about them selling the car for their son stuck in the back of his mind. That really meant something to Luke, but as to why, he had no clue. "They sound..." he paused. What could he say that wasn't lame? "great." That wasn't it. Oh well, he thought to himself. Rather than letting the conversation go right back to silence, he switched topics. "You following the football game?"
MAX: His mother explained a lot about Max, or at least she did in the sense she helped to raise a child who had good self-confidence and honestly didn't care what others may think of him. Given everything, that helped him a lot in life. "Yeah. They really are," he answered as his voice dropped down to give away a tiny clue that the separation from them had been hard, or at least that perhaps parents weren't a good conversation topic for the two of them. For future reference and all.
And oh thank God the topic was changed. "Of course. This is one of the only times of the year I get to care about sports, after all." Oh hey. The waitress finally brought his tea. "So, is Ireland in it this year or did they handball their way out of it again?"
LUKE: Oh Max did not just say--yes, yes he did. Luke's grin turned mischievous at Max's attempt to get the upper hand in the 'England vs. Ireland football' rivalry. "Of course we're in it this year, we need to give England another reason to cry in their sleep." He held up his mug as if he was tasting his friendly rival. "You don't really think your team is going to beat mine, do you?" he teased. "I have a lot of faith in my team," Luke smirked.
MAX: He may have not known much about sports, but he did know key rivalries. Or at least the rivalries that his father always talked about when the games were near. "Oh. That's lovely that you have faith in your team. It's real cute. But let's not remember which team actually has a previous World Cup." That would be England, Luke.
LUKE: "Oh so is that how it is going to be?" he laughed, almost snorting his tea. "Just because we haven't won one doesn't mean it won't be our year. What do you say to a little wager?" he asked, his face smiling while trying not to be concerned he was entering dangerous territory as well.
MAX: Oh you crazy kids say that every four years. Smirking slightly himself, Max picked up his own tea and gave a little shrug since what could a little wager hurt? It wasn't like Luke was actually going to win it. "Sure. If it will make you feel better."
LUKE: Hey he could win it! You know, when his team wanted to. He was a patient guy. Ish. "First, the rules. It is about which team makes it further by the semi-finals. Now, what are your terms if by some miracle England makes it further?"
MAX: Turning his head to one side, he looked at Luke slightly confused by what exactly he meant about terms. Oh. Wait. Terms of the wager! "Oh. Hmm." He hadn't thought this far ahead, but that was nothing new with Max. "When England makes the semi-finals, you... have to buy all my drinks if we ever end up at a bar again." Only not really since Luke had a fine to pay back eventually.
LUKE: "Fair enough, I agree to those terms." His smile turned nervous, and he took the moment to find his courage. Normally, he would have solved this already with a good shot or two of whiskey. But he knew he could at least try. The worst that could happen was that Max didn't agree and he would go back to living his solitary existence arguing with Noah and trying not to stare across the bar. "But if Ireland gets ahead..." he paused and sipped from his teacup. "If they get ahead we go on a date." Luke was just brave enough to glance over at Max before looking down at his tea.
MAX: In the back of his mind, Max was probably expecting something like, but the thought hadn't made it to the front of his brain because the whole proposal left him just a little bit shocked. It was in a good way, but still a bit shocking none the less. He didn't know what to say at first, so thankfully the cooks had impeccable timing and the waitress brought the food over, which caused the awkwardness to grow even more. Once the food had been placed and the waitress had left, he stared down at his food for a moment before finally looking up at Luke. "I don't really go on dates." Not even he was quite sure what he meant by that other than the obvious.
LUKE: His face remained impassive but inwardly he was squirming. Maybe he read him wrong and he was actually straight as an arrow. Luke expected bringing up the idea of a date in general would be awkward enough for a girl and a guy and about 10.000 times more so when it was the same gender. The food came but he didn't eat, waiting as he tried to read Max's face during his response. That...was. Hm. "By that you mean 'don't go on dates with blokes' or something else?"
MAX: Leaning forward slightly, he picked an olive off the top of his salad and plopped it into his mouth, chewing it quickly before speaking. "No. I mean, I go on dates with everyone." Wait. "Not really because I don't really go on dates in general. When the borders open, I'm going home and I guess I never really..." Saw the point? Wanted to bother? Thought it worth the risk?
LUKE: Now his lips quirked up. So that answered that question at least. The smile lowered but stayed as he listened to Max's explanation for not dating. Not that it was a terrible or silly explanation, but all the same, he didn't quite accept it. Luke had too much shite that had went on in his life to simply be stopped by Max's fear of committing when he could go home any day. "Right. But since you're so sure England is going to win, what do you have to lose by agreeing to this bet?" he offered, leaning back and trying to appear nonchalant.
MAX: "I don't know," he answered as another olive popped into his mouth. Obviously, that wasn't a good enough answer for Luke and he had a feeling continuing being vague wouldn't work either. "Look. When I got stuck here in America, I had been dating a woman for four years prior. And then I couldn't go back home and it really fucking sucked. A lot. It -- " Pausing a moment, Max tried to remember where he was going with this, but even he had to admit that it sounded incredibly stupid. "You're right. I am sure in England's abilities, so all right."
LUKE: At this point he felt it was best to let Max keep talking, finish explaining with another reason why he wasn't keen on the idea of dating. Realizing the bloke was bisexual, Luke didn't know what to say at his admittance that he was tied to a woman for four years and here was a guy trying to make a move on him. Excellent. Still, Luke refused to give up on this possibility. "Then we have a deal," he smiled, tapping the edge of the table. Before Max could stop him, he tossed down the cash for his portion of the meal that he owes including tip and stood up. "I have to go. But I'll see you around, yeah?" Even though he was trying to get out now as fast as possible, he still wanted to know that he didn't just mess things up with Max.
MAX: Luke's impeccable timing left the other man feeling, well, just a tad bit shitty on account of the word vomit he had only moments earlier. Since he wasn't born yesterday, Max was pretty sure that Luke really didn't have to go, especially since the food he ordered had just arrived. "Yeah. Definitely see you around." Despite that crap feeling, he did manage to give Luke his best smile and act as if this was all perfectly normal.
LUKE: Well. Luke had to admit he felt more confident since Max hadn't rejected him outright, and the offer was still on the table. Granted it was a bet and he didn't have as much faith in his football team as he pretended to be, but still. He had a chance. "I'm holding you to that bet," he grinned before leaving, taking off like the mysterious stranger into the night, or whatever made him sound cooler than the guy who just asked another guy on a date and left before he could possibly get rejected. Or worse (or better), get said yes to.