InsaneJournal

Who: Michael and R
When: Recently
Where: Some bar
Ratings: Low
What: Michael’s dreams only make sense over beer
Status: Complete when posted



This was a new situation for Michael - meeting a stranger for drinks to tell them about the weirdness of his dreams. He was used to talking about his dreams out in the open on the network, they knew his name but there was a certain anonymity there. He could always walk away for a while if somebody asked something he didn’t want to answer, come back to the conversation later. But you couldn’t do that in a bar face to face. But he didn’t want to subject everyone on the network to a repeat of the insanity they’d had to read about already. Plus some of that was really hard to relive and beers would probably make that easier.

He was running a few minutes late to meet R but not too much. He looked around the bar, noticing the other man sitting on a stool and made his way over there. Signalling the bartender and ordering a beer as he sat down. “R right?”

***

R had already been at the bar long enough not to notice a few minutes, two bottles of beer already gone and a third in his hand - he usually preferred spirits or wine, as stereotypical as it was, but beer was what one drank to commiserate. He thought, anyway.

So when the young man sat down at his table, R nodded, smiling wide. “I am R, yes, you are Michael? You have already ordered? I will order another, so I will not interrupt you, I will be done with mine soon.” He signalled to the bartender to bring another along with Michael’s, and pulled out his wallet to pay for both of them.

That settled, R picked up his half-empty beer. “So, you have the dreams? Tell me of them, mon ami, they sound very interesting.”

***

“I’m Michael. And the next round’s on me.” Michael said waiting until their beers were dropped off to pick his own up and raise it in a silent toast before taking a sip. “Dreams...nightmares. The most fucked up version of a hometown imaginable...take your pick of how to describe them. For starters - vampires are in charge of everything. And everyone in my hometown. Humans are property to them.” He said taking another sip before setting the bottle down on the bar.

“First one I had - holding my best friend back to keep him from running back into their burning house to save his little sister. Then I had the one where I got murdered by a vampire that I invited in to check out the room I had for rent. Came back as a ghost that’s trapped in the house I died in.” He paused there. His dreams could be a little much to process for him. So much seemed to happen in them.

***

R waved off Michael’s offer - he had money enough and didn’t mind spending it, especially not to ease the mind of a new friend. He was generous with his cash - perhaps too much, honestly, but he didn’t much care. He finished off his beer and started on another as Michael told his stories, brow furrowing with each one.

“Mon ami, that is fucked up,” he said. “Was his sister alright? Your dreams do not sound like they are kind to do that, so I do not think so. And why do the vampires own the humans? Are they slaves?”

***

Michael gave a sort of laugh at R’s comment about it being fucked up and took another sip of his beer. “She died in the dreams. It’s why he and his family left for awhile. My granddad helped get them out. She’s alive here though. She’s pretty much my little sister too. There and here. I’m pretty protective of her.” He took a deep breath and glanced at his new friend. “Kind of? The town I live in was founded by vampires and the price of our safety is that we give ourselves to a vampire to be protected.” He said, staring down at the bar and running his hand through his hair.

“That’s not the worst of it - in my dreams ghostme has to relive his death every night.”

***

“Do people die here, because of the dreams?” R wondered aloud. His own were of revolution, which was always messy, and considering the company he kept with Les Amis it was more than likely that he would die. He knew how these things went - no matter the intentions, the streets would always run with blood. He took a sip of his own beer. “It seems not, you are still here. That is comforting. And she is still here too. That is something to be grateful for, I would think. And you do not actually live in a place where you must be made a slave by a vampire to stay safe. Although it does not sound like you are any safer there than anywhere else, since you are dead.”

R finished off his beer and signalled the bartender for another. “Is that what ghosts do? Or is it special to you?”

***

“I’m not sure if they do or not. I know I didn’t die when I did in the dreams but...I was scared as hell that I was going to turn into a ghost. Kind of can’t perform if I can’t leave the house to go to gigs or even record new songs,” Michael said with a shrug. “Yeah. I think I’m even more protective of her now that I’ve had that dream than I was before. Didn’t think that was actually possible but - it is,” he added softly, taking another sip of his beer. “You aren’t even all that safe if you’re Protected. That’s the word they use. You just...can’t be fed off by another vampire without their being repercussions having to be paid to the one who’s claimed you. So basically they can kill you and then just give the other one money to make up for their losing you. And no one can leave without permission from the Founder. Which she never gives. It’s...a mess.” He said, draining his beer and signalling for another.

“It’s my fault I’m dead. I invited a stranger in. Which means that the protection on my house was done away with somehow. It couldn’t stop him from coming in.” He said, turning his attention to his new friend. “I don’t know any other ghosts so I can’t answer that. I wish I could though. And in case you were ever wondering - it hurts just as bad every damn time I die in the dreams.”

***

“That would be difficult. You could be one of those people who are on YouTube?” R was not used to trying to be helpful. “But I do not think that if you have not turned into a ghost yet you will turn into one now. I think that you are safe, unless you can become a ghost again?” In a world where vampires were real and had enslaved humans for their own protection, there was no guarantee that a person couldn’t die twice. The worlds that people dreamed up here were far stranger than anything he could imagine. “It sounds like a mess is what it is, ouais.” R signalled for another as well, since he’d need it, and pulled out his wallet again.

“I am not the person who is usually the one who is very comforting, but I think that if you are looking for a roommate than you should be able to trust people who are interested. I do not think that I would survive very long in this world of yours, mon frere.” R tossed the rest of his beer back and started in on the new one. “You are a very unlucky man indeed, mon ami.”

***

Michael gave a soft laugh at R’s suggestion. “I hadn’t thought about that. If I do turn into a ghost here I can become an internet celebrity,” he said, grinning. He’d have to remember that. Just in case it became necessary. “I’m hoping I don’t. It would seriously piss me off if I did become a ghost here now,” he admitted. “I’m just glad my hometown here isn’t run like it is there. And that the vampires out here don’t seem like the ones there.” He just hoped that some of the magical quality of his house in the dreams would translate to the house he lived in here somehow.

“Yeah...I’m good with the two roommates I’ve got here. I’ve known them my entire life so I trust them.” He toasted his new friend with his beer bottle. “Dreamme has the worst luck in the world. Here...it’s a little better.”

***

“There are those shows, where people come to houses that are haunted and try to see if they really are? We will have them come and film you, you will be famous!” R laughed, the beers settling in nicely and loosening him up. “I do not think that there would be towns like that here, though this place is very strange indeed. There are no vampires from your dreams here, oui? Because I may need to start eating more garlic if they are.”

R nodded. “Your luck is very poor indeed, this is true. I do not think that it can be much worse than it is there, though. Here, you have not been killed by a vampire! It is the little things.”

***

“You have to promise me - if I ever wake up as ghost you’ll contact the Ghost Adventures guys so they can come investigate my house. I’ll even give them beers.” Michael said as he laughed along with him. “I haven’t seen any of the vampires from my dreams showing up here. And I don’t really think the normal rules apply for them anyway. They go to church services. Can actually be religious,” he said, frowning a little as he thought about all the other things they’d always been told repelled vampires. Would any of that actually work if any from his dreams showed up?

“It is the little things. I’m alive and so is Alyssa. And I’ve got my music career going here.” He turned towards his new friend and raised his bottle. “A toast - to the little things.”

***

“Is that who they are? I will make them come, ne t’inquietes. And we can make your house a tourist attraction! You will get to scare many people.” R chuckled and shook his head. “Even if they are not normal vampires, they still have noses.” He touched his nose with his beer bottle, even if he did miss a little and hit his cheek instead. “I will smell so much that they will not touch me!”

R clicked their bottles together. “To the little things,” he echoed, though in his experience, the little things in his life and in his dreams did not add up to the best scenario. There were some little things - like Joly’s smile, Bahorel’s laugh, and everything to do with Bossuet, honestly, the poor bastard - that weren’t so bad, but the others - the angry sneer and set of Enjolras’ brows, the whispers in the streets that spoke fearfully of revolution, the ever-present threat of it hanging over everything that he and Les Amis de l’ABC did...those were. And in this life, there were so very few little things that made up for the larger ones; the family that he loved did not make up for all that he didn’t and who didn’t love him, the worry of those who cared about him didn’t fill the gaping hole inside of him that he attempted to fill with alcohol, and the more he thought about it, he had very few of ‘the little things’.

But Grantaire didn’t much fancy being a maudlin drunk, not this early in the evening anyway, so he put on an easy smile and settled in for a pleasant evening spent drunk in good company.