Lowell Tracey is a Rock Star (brainjam) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-09-28 17:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, lowell tracey, olivia moore |
Who: Livwell (Lowell and Liv)
What: A first date!
When: September 15th
Where: An Indian restaurant
Rating/Warning: Low/none
Status: Complete
To be perfectly honest Liv was dying to go out with Lowell. Mostly because she wanted to see he was actually real for himself and wanted to at least be part of his life if he ever started dreaming. She wasn’t sure there was anyone else out there who could help with the whole zombie thing. Liv basically had to figure it all out herself and if that did happen to Lowell she wanted to be able to help him. But yeah she was also attracted to him. At least to dream!him. And judging by their conversation on the net and in text messages, real him too.
She took her time getting ready for dinner. Actually putting on a dress and applying a bit of makeup. There wasn’t much she could do to hide the paleness. Fake tan, but she didn’t want to go that route. She was fine with being pale. If anyone had a problem with it then screw them. Once she was all ready to go she arrived at the agreed upon restuarant standing outside to wait for the musician.
Lowell hadn’t been this excited for a date in a while. For all he said, he didn’t actually expect Liv to be a stalker. He’d had to work way too hard for her to say yes to going out with him. But it wasn’t very often that he ran into a girl who liked Hitchcock, horror movies, and zombies. And he really was curious about how someone who would call Pocket Dial Phone Dial of all things and yet still know his name. That, and, well, assuming those pictures of her on the Network were actually her, she was beautiful. In a weird, pale kind of way.
And well, it turns out that the icons of her on the Network weren’t exaggerating. It wasn’t hard to spot her outside of the bar. She had to be the whitest person he’d ever seen. “Hey,” he said, approaching the pale girl. “Liv, right?”
Yup, that was really Lowell. Liv had mixed feelings about him being here. Part of her was happy because well she liked Lowell, and it meant she wasn’t the only one from her dreams. But she was also sad, if he did start dreaming who knew what could happen to him? Still Liv couldn’t help but break out into a smile when she spotted him.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Liv replied once he reached her. “And since I’m such a stalker,” she joked, “I already know you’re Lowell.” But obviously just like him she had seen his picture on the network and you know he was kind of famous. “Shall we?” she asked turning to walk into the restaurant.
“In that case, you probably know all about me and we can just skip all the smalltalk,” Lowell joked. “Though, half the things the tabloids say is made up.” He offered her his arm once the entered the restaurant. “I reserved us a private room, just so you know.”
Liv honestly hadn’t read anything about Lowell in the tabloids. Not that she paid much attention to tabloids anyway. But if she knew Lowell was real she might have. Liv linked her arm through his, feeling a bit of a spark that almost made her gasp. But she kept her composure raising a brow at his last comment. “Private room?” she commented. “Just how are you expecting this night to go?” She was teasing, mostly.
Lowell felt a spark when Liv touched him that he hadn’t felt in long time. He’d been on a few dates lately in an attempt to get over his ex-girlfriend, but none of them had quite made his heart jump like the woman on his arm now. “Hopefully well,” Lowell said, flashing a playful smile in Liv’s direction. He turned to the hostess. “For Tracey, please,” and then turned back to Liv. “But the private room’s so we can have some privacy. Nothing’s quite the mood-killer like being bothered for autographs.”
“Hopefully? What happened to that cockiness of yours?” Liv teased before Lowell turned his attention to the hostess. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this private room business. But she supposed his explanation made sense. Not like she’d ever been out with a famous person before, or around one for that matter. “So, this would be a bad time to ask for your autograph?” More teasing as the hostess led them to the private room. It honestly surprised her how comfortable she felt around Lowell, she wasn’t expecting that.
“Well I know I’m charming. But you might be one of those strange people who don’t think so. I don’t know to assume.” Lowell teased as the hostess led them toward the back room. Truth be told, though he’d never admit it, but Lowell was actually kind of nervous. He was really hoping he didn’t manage to stick his foot in his mouth. “Autographs are more of a third date kind of thing though.”
“Well, I’ll tell you right now you aren’t going to be charming enough to get me to do anything other than eat in this back room.” That was a lie, she’d consider a kiss, but that was it. It also depended how the night went, and who knew if that was even something Lowell wanted. Sure they dated in the dreams, but this was real life.
Inside the room the hostess led them to their table. Liv unlinked her arm (although she didn’t really want to) to take her seat. “Three dates? You really make a girl work for it.”
“I hope I’m charming enough to get you to talk too,” Lowell said, winking at her. “It will be rather boring if I just have to talk to myself all night. Which is absolutely not something I do often,” he said, in a voice that implied that he very frequently talked to himself. “What can I say? I want to make sure that a girls interested in me for more than my penmanship.”
“As amusing as that sounds, I’ll hold up my end of the conversation,” she grinned, eyes shining. Sure she had a fling, but it had been a long time since she actually dated, and was this happy. Even the whole positivity brain, the cheeryness hadn’t really been her. But Lowell didn’t know about that. “Damn, penmanship really turns me on,” she teased. Not that she planned on sleeping with Lowell. At all. Wouldn’t want to turn him and just maybe he’d be lucky and not dream.
“Excellent. My signature is beautiful. Though, I may have to keep you away from my notebooks.” He’d worked hard on having a great signature for when he struck it big, but his actual penmanship was nearly illegible. With a bit of a production about it, he pulled her seat out for her and gestured for her to sit down. “So, Liv, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
“Noted,” she quipped before laughing at his production of pulling out a chair. “I didn’t know musicians were such gentlemen.” But then she supposed she didn’t fit into the zombie stereotype either. “Well, you already know I like scary movies, zombies, and work at a morgue. What else is there?” She picked up the menu scanning over it.
“Most of us aren't,” Lowell admitted. Even he wasn't always so gentlemanlike, though he tried to be when he was out on dates. Once she sat down, he pushed the chair in for her and took his own seat.
“Hobbies?” Lowell asked. “Besides scary movies and work, what does the stunning Liv like to get up to in her free time?” He bit back the comment that it obviously didn't involve going outside much, as he didn't want to actually offend her.
“Can I start you two off with anything?” the waiter asked.
“A bottle of wine,” Lowell said. “And I think an order of the shrimp pakoras while we wait for our meal?” he asked, turning a questioning gaze to Liv. “They're the best you’ll ever have.”
As far as hobbies went it honestly depended on the day, or more accurately the brain. However Liv didn’t have many of her own hobbies. Unless you counted studying. She had always been career driven. “I like to try new things every once in awhile,” because that was true thanks to brains. “But nothing really imparticular. Unless you count cooking.” She had always enjoyed preparing her meals and still did even though they now included brains. “Med school didn’t leave much time for hobbies.”
Her eyes widened at his suggestion. Shrimp? Shrimp?! “You want to eat those poor helpless animals?” Liv asked clearly shocked. “What did they ever do to you?”
“I’ll give you a moment to decide,” the waiter said a little awkwardly as he quickly backed out of the room.
Lowell, for his part, was briefly taken aback. “They didn't do anything except be delicious,” he joked. “Though heads up, vegetarianism is generally something you mention when someone says ‘tell me more about yourself.’” What was with this girl?
That was not a funny joke. At all. Liv just narrowed her eyes at him when he made it. What the hell was wrong with her? Normally she’d find that at least a little funny. Ugh, must be the new brain kicking in. Apparently she ate a vegetarian, and no the irony was not lost on her.
“Right,” Liv said cooling down a bit. It wasn’t Lowell’s fault. Hell it wasn’t even her fault. “Sorry, I uh guess I forgot to mention that.”
Liv was very clearly not amused by his joke. Obviously, she was one of those serious vegetarians, which was a bit of a disappointment but not a complete deal breaker. Assuming the fact that he quite enjoyed meat didn’t completely turn her off. “I guess it’s probably a good thing we’re at an Indian restaurant then. Lot’s of meat-free dishes to choose from. We could try starting with the samosas instead?”
The fact that Lowell ate meat wasn't a deal breaker for her at all. Although she had the urge to not let him do it in front of her. But soon enough this brain would wear off and she’d be fine. If he put up with her crazy no meat thing for that long. “Samosas are fine. And you did say they had the best,” she reminding him still feeling a bit bad about her outburst.
“And I always tell the truth,” he said. He wasn’t going to look at the menu originally, he’d already decided what he was going to have. But if Liv was a serious vegetarian, she might not enjoy the fact that his dish of choice had chicken on it. So, something vegetarian was on the docket instead. Luckily, Lowell didn’t mind too much. The food was good whether there was meat or not. “So, how long have you been a vegetarian?”
How to answer that question. It wasn’t like she could say ‘since five minutes ago’ or ‘this morning’ even though those were both the truth. Ugh she was really going to have to start screening brains. Or at least make Leon do a background check on the victim first so there wouldn’t be surprise vegetarianism or agoraphobia happening again. “It’s recent,” Liv finally replied. “I forget to mention it sometimes,” not the best cover but the closest to the truth. “What made you want to be a musician?” she asked turning the tables back on him.
It seemed like an unusually long time before she answered what should have been a simple question, but Lowell wasn’t going to keep asking about it. He frowned to himself thinking over her question. “Aside from the fact that I’m a sucker for a good-looking guitar and the fact that ‘party like a rock star’ is an actual phrase? I don’t really know. I just like making music.” Though before he could ask his question in return, the waiter returned with their bottle of wine. The man calmly poured them both a glass and then left the bottle on the table.
“Have you decided?”
“Yeah,” Lowell said. “Could we start with the samosas instead? And then I’ll order the palak paneer for myself.”
Before she had a chance to respond to Lowell the waiter was back and Lowell was placing his order. Liv gasped. Didn’t the palak paneer have gravy in it?! “Gravy has beef fat!” What the hell? Liv wasn’t even sure why she was so upset. Apparently she wasn’t just vegetarian but vegan now? Ugh. Why couldn’t things just be simple.
“Sorry, I mean if you really want it I won’t stop you,” she was clearly embarrassed by her outburst even though she wasn’t completely sure she could sit and watch Lowell eat gravy.
“Uh,” Lowell said, giving an almost confused look at Liv, then glancing at the menu. Honestly, he had no idea what on the menu contained some kind of animal byproduct. Well, at least samosas were vegan. He’d gotten that much right at least. “No, it’s fine,” he assured her, recovering smoothly from his surprise. “I can get something else. I’ll just have whatever she’s having,” he said to the waiter, who was professional enough to not look too uncomfortable. He handed the man his menu.
Liv ordered vegetable curry and a side of aloo gobi. Well two of each since Lowell was apparently having the same as her. Hopefully the waiter didn’t come back with three of everything. “Thanks,” she said to Lowell with a small smile. Hopefully there would be no more surprises for the remainder of the night. He was really putting up with a lot.
The waiter returned with their wine pouring them each a glass. Before Liv took a sip of hers she grabbed some hot sauce out of her purse, squeezing some into her wine. “Told you I like spicy,” she offered sheepishly.
“Hey, I’ve never been opposed to trying out new things,” Lowell said. He couldn’t help but give Liv an almost flabbergasted look when she started pouring hot sauce into her wine. “You are the most fascinating girl I’ve ever taken out,” he said, the amusement evident in his voice.
Well, he didn’t seem too appalled by her taste. In fact he seemed amused. In the dreams she had always wondered if it was just because they were both zombies that they were together. But that definitely wasn’t the case here. “Look at that, you topped the beautiful line,” she teased. “But I think that’s enough surprises for you tonight.” At least she hoped, she still had no idea what this brain had in store for her.
“I told you I would,” Lowell said, smiling cheerily. “But if there are any more surprises, I’d rather they be good ones. You don’t have any terrible allergies I should know about, do you? Because that’s something I’d really rather get a heads up about.” At least she was keeping him on his toes.
No allergies. At least none that she knew of, but she was pretty sure allergies wouldn’t carry over from a brain. Just personality traits and the visions. “Well…” she began a devious smile on her face. “I’m actually allergic to musicians,” she teased. “Really, it’s a miracle I’m not sneezing up a storm right now.”
“Well then, you're in luck. I’m one of those hypoallergenic musicians. All the cuddling and none of the sneezing,” Lowell said, smiling fondly at her. It really was refreshing to have someone who was comfortable teasing him. “And I barely shed.”
“Cuddling?” Liv raised a brow. “I think you might be getting ahead of yourself.” But hey, at least he still seemed open to the idea. He clearly wasn’t repulsed by all her outbursts about the food and her addiction to hot sauce.
“You're right, cuddling is pretty scandalous. Maybe we should just start with hand holding,” he teased. If anything, the random outbursts and strange use of hot sauce intrigued him. Maybe in the future he’d discover this woman was really just completely and utterly insane, but for now she was refreshing. An unexpected drop of hot sauce in his wine as it were (which really didn't sound all that appealing no matter how he looked at it, but that was the analogy he was going to use).
It was what cuddling usually came after that she was worried about. Because yeah, that couldn’t happen. Not that she was going to tell him that. Not right now anyway. It wasn’t a really first date topic. Although she wasn’t sure it was fair to continue things when they couldn’t have sex. But she was getting ahead of herself. No matter how well she knew him from the dreams, she didn’t know him here. He was still a musician, for all she knew he could fall into the stereotype and be a player.
“You know, hand holding usually goes with walks on the beach,” she commented with a smirk. “And as you have already stated you don’t like those.” Liv didn’t particularly care for them either. Although now that she was thinking about Lowell’s network post, a scary movie marathon with him was rather appealing.
“I think I could get behind it if I was holding the right hand,” Lowell said, smiling at her in a way that implied that her hand might not be so bad to hold. “So long as I could find a way to keep all that sand out of my shoes. Maybe I should invest in a nice pair of flip flops.”
“Barefoot is probably the best way to go,” Liv commented taking a sip of her hot sauce spiked wine. “But I’m not a big fan of walking on the beach anyway. You’ll have to do that with one of your other stalkers. I’d rather do a scary movie marathon.”
Not even a grimace. That girl could drink her hot-sauce wine like a champ. Maybe it wasn’t as awful as he had originally assumed. Not that he was at all willing to test out that theory. “Ah yes. I’m sure I have plenty of groupies who’d jump at the chance to walk on the beach with me.” He winked to show that he was joking, and then added, “But I’d much rather do a scary movie marathon with you.”
But details of that would have to wait, since their unexpectedly vegan food was brought into the room.