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05 May 2008 @ 01:27 am
A drink, cig, and talk.  
Who: Theo - OPEN
What: A drink or two.
Where: SSB (Sunrise Sunset Bar)
When: After dark.


As the sun went down, Theo stood, watching the last bits of ray slowly disappear. His exposed skin stun slightly, but did not burn. He took a long drag from his cigarette before starting his walk towards the bar, zigzagging in the streets to divert any attention on him, whether it worked or not. He did nod to a few passerby, and they returned the gesture; perhaps he didn't look as pale as he thought, or as weird. It was freezing out, yet he wore only a light button-up shirt, folded once at the wrists and untucked from his dark blue jeans. His hair was a mess as always, but he didn't care. He almost never cared.

Finally he reached the bar and tucked his body against the wall to light another cigarette before walking inside. He shoved the door open with such force that if anyone were to be behind it, would have been somewhat injured. Luckily there had been no one there. He bounded inside, ruffling his hair with a free hand while taking a drag from the cigarette and letting it sit between two fingers. Theo chuckled, the smoke emitting from his lips. "Funny bunch," he said, shuffling to the bar, "With their.. Ways and stuff." He took a seat, knocking on the bar top and waving a finger around at the numerous bottles. "Gimme what ever the hell you recommend," he shouted, the bartender giving him a glare before tending to his needs. She poured him just that: what she recommended - a Kamikaze. His face screwed, his upper lip lifted and he shook his head. "<i>This</i> is what you recommend?" he said, taking a sip, "Remind me not to ask you again." She rolled her eyes and said nothing as she walked off. "Try not to do that anymore while you're at it."

He swung his body to face the so-called crowd, swirling his drink and gulping half of the damn thing down; it was easier to drink it quicker if you didn't enjoy the taste to begin with. Theo had a tendency to speak to himself, thinking that others might be listening. He wasn't the most sane of the bunch, but wasn't stupid. He was an experimental sort-of guy; except for one thing - women. He was terrible with them. So he did what he had always done - treat them as a man. He's never been in love; never known love. Shit, he might not even know what it means or stands for. But there were times in his life that he did have a longing for it. Or a longing for something. He felt lonely, lost, and abstract.

"Shit. What are y'drinkin'?" He motioned to someone nearest him with a sour look on his face. He didn't want another Kamikaze.