Re: The Disaffected/The Entertainer
Crisis drew a crowd, it was true. The more he thought on it, the more Nicky would in fact admit to: "Fine, a little curious." Got him again. He didn't mind being around people; the life drowned out his sense of the other. Just that being alone for this trip seemed right, with his father waiting at the other end. There were two legs to the trip and this one was by far the easier. He spun his ring around his finger a few more times before standing. "I still say whoever it is, they're being bagged in baggage. Or, track salsa three miles back." Smirk: he's all clever and dark, no? "Let you decide which."
Nicky didn't remember which song he'd given over for the man to hear but that he reproduced it - or another, which he hadn't heard (meaning he already knew it) - with such perfect fidelity was honestly impressive. Nicky didn't impress easily, his natural state being semi-permanently unimpressed. Wished he wasn't that way sometimes. Wished he could separate love from hate the way he did life from death. Be more normal. Be like his friends, like his golden-child cousin (real love/hate there, thanks), but those were the cards. Habits were hard to break. His friends understood, mostly. They were too careful sometimes; he tried not being resentful. "You're not that too old for me." Another smirk. It was the shared default expression, given equal time with "flat stare." "So yeah, I'll come with." Safety was not really a concern. Safety was low on the list of priorities. He could handle himself better than he looked able. But company sounded all right, a way to pass the already interminable time on this train. He should've thought of drinking earlier. "Even buy you a drink if I'm wrong about this just being some waste of time. Bourbon?" He guessed. Seemed to play into the type. But the way the man played his guitar, it went against type, so maybe not.