𝔻𝕣. 𝔹𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕜

Drew poured their drinks and listened to Ben talk about his family and his origins. While Drew had felt overwhelmed by the size of Colorado Springs, it was still nearly a hundred times smaller than Chicago, so he could only imagine how Ben felt about it. "The move here must've been a culture shock," he realized, sliding one of the glasses over Ben's way. Even though Ben wanted to move to Shrike Heights, wanted to build his life here, Drew couldn't imagine it being any less than a shock to the system, having to adapt his lifestyle so much. Drew enjoyed the adaptation, who he'd become since moving to town, but he couldn't deny it was different, even for him. "Still, I figure giving up protracted bar crawls is well worth it for feeling at home some place." It was a bit cheesy, and he didn't want to put words in Ben's mouth about Shrike Heights, but that was at least how Drew felt.

At the thought of reinvention, Drew thought about his own change over the past four years. He wasn't too dissimilar to the person he was growing up, in college, and in the Army, but he had certainly grown into himself. He felt more stable, more secure in who he was and what he had to offer. He didn't feel as small anymore, and that was a gift. Even with the dangers they faced in town, the threats that seemed to never quite subside, he still couldn't imagine himself anywhere else. "Those seem like some great tools for the job," he laughed gently, leaning against the counter as he drank some of his wine. "I made her cassoulet for Christmas one year, and I don't think I can look at white beans the same again." He admitted. He loved cooking for large gatherings and groups; it made him feel connected to the community around him. But the labor involved, especially with a project like cassoulet, definitely left him feeling like he'd run a marathon. "But now that you've admitted that, next family dinner you come to, I've got high expectations." He teased, laughing as he watched Ben work.

Ben offered to play for him, and Drew tried not to flush at the idea. "I'd love that," he admitted genuinely, trying not to let the softness in his voice show. "I haven't got a musical bone in my body, so I don't even think I'd be able to tell." He added with a shrug. None of his family was particularly creative or musically gifted, though his youngest brother could hold a tune – at least when they were younger. That talent had skipped right over Drew, and so Ben could literally play 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,' and Drew would be hooked.

At Ben's follow-up question, Drew hummed in thought to himself, taking a sip of wine to allow himself more time to think. "What have I been holding out on you? I mean, I was a pretty decent baseball player when I was eight and in little league – meaning, I managed to hit the ball off the tee most of the time. And aside from cooking, I guess I'd consider amateur photography a hobby. They're nothing to write home about, but I like to take my Polaroid on weekends when I'm out hiking with Coop and Fredo." He offered with a shrug, not self-deprecating but just realistic. "If you ever want to join us, you're more than welcome. Coop's already given you the seal of approval." He noted, nodding at the back door where the dog had gone outside.

"The move certainly was, but that was exactly what I was looking for. Something different. I'm glad I found it here, where I was able to start over," Ben replied, stealing a quick glance at Drew after taking the drink slid his way. "And exactly that," he said, nodding in agreement to the other's words. "I wanted someplace that felt like home, that wasn't tainted by my past or expectations for my future from people who thought they knew me," he added. Ben wasn't sure he'd ever admitted that to anyone before. "It's been a good thing. Figuring out how to live life on my own terms. Exploring a new state, a new town, new hobbies." He smiled and paused what he was doing briefly to really turn and look at the other. "New people." He let the moment linger in a comforting pause for a moment before he took a sip from his drink and turned back to the dish.

"What about you? What keeps you here? Where do you see yourself in... I don't know. A year? Five?" he asked curiously. He wanted to know more about the things that motivated Drew. Not from the perspective of a caregiver, never that again, but from someone precariously hoping to rekindle a hearth fire to warm something in one or both.

He had to laugh when Drew mentioned the Julia Childs cassoulet, fully knowing just how much of a gauntlet that was! "Please don't tell me you tried to do all the prep in one day like I did. By the time I was done, I didn't even want to try the damn thing. The dish was as ugly as ugly gets but I have to give it to her, it was delicious," he chuckled. "But I'd be happy to help next time, especially if it's gonna be judged by your family," he said, amused by the idea Drew brought up about Ben joining him for a family dinner. It was nice talking about their individual hobbies. Ben found himself thinking about playing something on his guitar for him next time, and caught himself looking forward to there being a next time to begin with. And he could easily see himself going on walks with the other, watching him snap photos and seeing the world through his eyes. He didn't want to get ahead of himself though, not without knowing how Drew felt. There would be plenty of time to figure that out. So he pulled himself back to the present moment.

Ben chuckled when the other hadn't heard the saying, then nodded. "I think so! I wouldn't know for sure myself, though. I've only driven past the northern borders of Texas, and it seemed pretty normal to me." Then he gave the boy a nod. "You're not wrong, though. It does feel like a small city all on its own, doesn't it?"

As talk shifted to his piano skills, Leo just shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe better than just okay, yeah,” he admitted, his voice a little sad. There’d been a time when he’d been called a prodigy or a musical genius or something of the sort, and now he…was. Yeah, he was better than “okay,” but that wasn’t good enough for Leo. That was something he definitely didn’t want to discuss though, so Leo just shrugged again.

Leo almost closed his eyes as he listened to Ben, letting himself get lost in the music. It helped that Ben had chosen a good song, but there was something about someone who wasn’t technically perfect that really appealed to Leo. It felt more…authentic. It felt like there was more passion in it for some reason. When they were done and Ben complimented him, Leo just smiled. “I’m fine I guess. But I wasn’t ever going to be a professional singer, not like - “ Leo stopped abruptly; he’d been about to say “not like piano,” but he didn’t want to discuss that. Still, he couldn’t ignore the question. “It used to be,” Leo answered. “There was a time when it was everything, apart from my family and friends I mean. Now it’s just…there.” The truth was that Leo felt like he had lost his music, and it was a loss he felt in his core.

Ben laughed at the surprise in the other and he nodded. "Yes, they did. They let us listen to what they listened to mostly, but I did hear my fair share of classical, but I also listened to a lot of jazz and blues, especially in a place like Chicago where it thrived. Folk music, too. Bob Dylan, Peter, Paul and Mary, Simon and Garfunkel. Rock and roll was seen as hard and rebellious. It still is, but it was even more so when I was growing up. The first half of my life, I spent watching the Vietnam War unfold, but making commentary on it as someone who didn't serve, particularly from an immigrant background, was a bit taboo, and my parents knew the dangers of that. They wanted to keep my siblings and I safe, you know? But kids grow up and make their own decisions about what to do and what to listen to. If you ask me now, I'd tell you the Clash is a brilliant band," he explained. "But you're right, music changes. It's messages change, too. Part of it is conveyed in lyrics, but most of it, in my humble opinion, is conveyed in the sounds," he added, raising his brows with a smile.

As he listened to Leo, he really listened to what was between the words, in the pauses of what he was saying. Ben saw how Leo closed his eyes to get lost in the music, and then how he seemed to let that go when he was brought back to the reality of being in a music instrument store instead of somewhere else. "It sounds to me like you need to figure out where music went for you. I can see it means a lot to you still. Maybe you need to find your voice in a different way. But who's to say better than you?" he asked, leaving the question at Leo's feet like a morning newspaper for him to read and consider later on his own.

It was difficult not to wince, openly cringing as he thought about how bad he must look to warrant that much concern. It wasn't like he had worn enough makeup that he should have panda eyes or anything of that nature. Was he unclean? Briefly, he considered his options and wondered if he should excuse himself to lean up. "I'm okay, just you know... hungover. Uh, you're fine. I must look real bad though, huh?"" He mumbled, his posture turning self conscious, shoulders hunching forward. "Good you told me, I should probably clean up before visiting my parents.""

Ben took a sip from the hazelnut coffee and let out a quiet hum of approval. To the credit of the coffee shop, they rarely made anything he didn't like, and he was surprised but grateful for the extra free cup that morning. When the younger man asked if he drank a lot of coffee typically, Ben gave a slight nod. "Sometimes. Sometimes I'll opt for tea instead. But I do sometimes need a lot of caffeine to stay focused throughout the day," he admitted with a quiet smile. "I work with a lot of people, and I need to be able to pay attention to all of the information that comes my way all day." Too much information sometimes, but that was a part of the job, he supposed.

When Ben mentioned his profession, Leo paused; he had no idea he'd been talking to a therapist. But it didn't really affect his opinion of Ben, not negatively at least. "You're just full of surprises," he stated with a little smile. "I used to go there, but I...uh, decided I didn't need therapy anymore." He told his parents he still went, but that was a lie and had been for quite some time. "You'd probably need something to unwind, especially after stressful days," Leo responded. He was glad he hadn't made things weird with his comment, moving past it just like Ben had. "That's the cool thing about music," Leo said. "It can transport you. It sounds like a cliché, but it's true. It's one thing I love about it." And it was one thing he missed about playing piano. Resisting to urge to wallow in his loss, Leo just listened as Ben began to play, and he immediately smiled when he recognized the song. And for just a few seconds, Leo sang along, softly, not drawing attention to the two of them, and he was smiling even more brightly when they were finished. "Great song," he told Ben.

Ben chuckled and gave Leo a nod. "They did not. They thought it was too loud and noisy, so I'd always just go over to my friends' houses to listen to rock and roll," he said with a smile, remembering his teenage years. "The sixties saw a lot of bands coming up. The Rolling Stones, The Who, The Doors. Even The Beatles. Music's changed a lot since then, and it'll keep changing, but I kind of like to ride that wave of change and hear what's new. Rock is harder now. You have metal, and punk. It's a phenomenon," he said with a smile. Ben certainly had an appreciation for it all, and definitely loved keeping up with it.

He agreed with Leo. It was hard to learn music by just listening to it, but he'd been doing it for so long now that it almost came naturally. He knew his way around most guitars that he could hear something and mimic it well. "Learning by ear is one thing, but you learned from a young age. I have a feeling you're better at piano than you're letting on," he smiled. Especially if the other was offering a reading lesson on sheet music.

Drew stepped back as Ben unloaded the groceries for their dinner, moving to the cabinet where he kept the alcohol. He wasn't a heavy drinker – his parents and older brother subscribed to the compulsory drink-with-dinner practice, beer or whiskey for the men and wine for his mother – but he'd never found the habit particularly compelling. And too often, he saw people he served with leaning on alcohol to help them cope with their traumas; enough exposure to that would leave a bad taste in anyone's mouth. But he enjoyed the occasional indulgence, especially for special occasions. And while reconnecting over dinner with a friend might not be everyone's definition of "special," Drew disagreed.

All that said, his liquor cabinet wasn't much to look at. There were a few wines, a bottle of tequila he's hardly touched, and a nice bourbon his family got him as a homecoming present when he came back from deployment that he hasn't opened. Thankfully, he had a pinot noir that looked at least halfway decent, and he pulled it from the cabinet as he listened to Ben talk about his summers in South Korea. "Is a lot of your family there?" He asked, looking back after grabbing two wine glasses and the bottle opener.

"Did you want some now, or did you want to wait?" He asked, holding up the wine bottle in question. He opened the bottle as Ben told him his own story of how he came to town. It was a familiar sentiment the other man shared, feeling the pull of the small community and the appeal of life outside of all the big city noise. He was born in raised in Colorado Springs, and while it wasn't Denver, the city had always been a little too big for him. "I know the feeling. It felt a little bit like starting fresh." He mused. "And selfishly, I'm glad you decided to move anyway. Though I'm sorry to hear things didn't work out." He vaguely remembered Ben mentioning something about his ex-wife before, but he'd never felt it was appropriate to pry or follow-up. He seemed at least at peace with it, so Drew left it alone.

"I know what you mean," he smiled then as Ben talked about the struggle of maintaining and building friendships as an adult. "It's hard to get to know people when you aren't forced to be around them for school or work. It takes effort." He agreed. It was why he hosted his family dinners in town and why he worked at the pet store. It would be easy to go from the clinic to his house every day and hardly see anyone who wasn't a client. If he didn't make the effort, he wouldn't find himself in situations like this, taking the chance to reconnect with Ben after so long. "I don't think I've heard you play guitar before, though." He recalled them with a smirk. "First, you cook. Now, you play music. You've been holding out on me, Dr. Park." He teased with a laugh.

Ben was guilty of being someone who used alcohol to cope sometimes, but he wasn't as dependent on alcohol to get through his days as others he knew. He didn't drink daily, and didn't really do so at home, but every now and then, he'd indulge at Julio's and it had been conducive to meeting new people at least. He didn't feel so alone when he spent time there, he supposed. And while he was there at Drew's place, he had no inclination to drink in excess. At least, not in the moment.

When asked about his family in Korea, Ben nodded. "I have a lot of extended family there, although all of my immediate family is here in the states. Specifically in Chicago," he said. "My siblings and I were born there some time after my parents settled into the Windy City," he explained. He nodded when Drew opened the bottle and cinched his index and thumb together to indicate he'd have a little to start off with, at least while he began cooking.

Ben nodded in agreement to the sentiment of having a fresh start, and he couldn't help the little smile when Drew said he was glad Ben had moved in. "I'm glad I moved in, too. Like you said, it felt like a fresh start. I wanted to reinvent myself in some ways, feel like someone new while still being... me, I suppose," he said. "I got a Julia Childs recipe book, and an electric guitar to try and navigate the seas that the wind pushed me into, so to speak."

His nose scrunched up. "Nothing's...wrong with it. It's just... it's hazelnut flavoured and I wanted caramel, but my brain wasn't really working so I said hazelnut, but I meant I wanted caramel and I didn't really realise until after, you know?"

The question about his face took him aback, a flush settling over his cheeks. "Uh," He hesitated, oblivious. "Sorry, I probably look like a mess, I didn't really wash up before leaving the house. Really needed breakfast. But I'm fine. Maybe went a bit hard last night."

Ben nodded in response to the other's confirmation. "You know, that's a very common thing. I think I might have an iron stomach, because I can drink a few cups a day and feel fine. As long as I don't do it too late at night, then I'm tired, but jittery," he mused, deciding to accept the free coffee and pull it closer. He needed all the caffeine he could get that morning anyway. "Hazelnut's not bad to me, either, so... thanks!"

The pair headed toward the front of the store where the guitar this customer had asked about was displayed, and Leo replied, "It's nice to meet you too, Ben. What do you do over at Perkin's? Since you're not in the rock and roll business." He gave Ben a cheeky smile as he said this, and then he turned toward the display. They'd reached the guitar, and Leo grabbed it gently, treating it with the reverence it deserved. "Now you've got to promise to be careful," Leo cautioned, but he was already handing Ben the Gibson. As he gave it to Ben, Leo said, "Keeps you young, hmm? Well it seems to be working." Then he paused, shaking his head. "I don't even know what I mean by that," he sighed, a little embarrassed. Really it was probably because Ben was handsome, but he still wished he hadn't said it. "Anyway," Leo went on, recovering a bit, "do you want to play a few chords? You know, get a feel for it a bit?"

Benjamin nodded at Leo's question. "I did! I've loved rock and roll, and even punk music for quite a long time, but growing up I wasn't allowed to listen to it much," he chuckled. His parents had been pretty conservative when it came to that kind of thing. "But when I moved to Shrike, I kind of wanted to reinvent parts of myself, and one of the first things I saw was the Stratocaster at a shop window and decided... why not? And went for it. I still don't really know how to read music, but I can learn songs and play by ear," he explained. "What about you? Have you always been a lover of music?" When asked if he had a picture of his guitar, Ben laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm not that vain about it, it's just a hobby! I mean, it is a beautiful instrument, but I'm not carrying a photo of it around," he mused.

Not remembering the night before was nothing new. That had been the modus operandi ever since the last attack. Going through the motions, numbing down the paranoia by getting high, getting drunk, or both. Whiting out on someone's couch. His own, last night. They had never been one to fall into a pattern of bad habits, and yet here they were, itching not to be sober any longer than they had to be. They were still responsible enough to show up to work with their wits about them. Even though it wasn't exactly the profession they saw themselves having after pouring themselves into their studies growing up, they loved their job. Getting to put a permanent piece of his art on a person was an uncontested luxury. It was important that they kept that intact, even if their social life was going to shit. Today was his day off though. It could not have come at a more welcome time, between the hangover and the lack of caffeine weighing his bones down. "Here," He set down a cup of coffee at the other end of the communal table at the centre of the cafe. "I ordered the wrong thing the first time, so... free coffee?" He said with an awkward, uneven smile. One side of his face was hurting like crazy and it wasn't until he thought of that that he realised he hadn't even looked himself in the fact that morning. Had he done so he would have been aware of the ugly pattern of bruising that was starting to form around his eye. He reached for his own mug of sweet, salted-caramel goodness, bringing it to his mouth for a sip. "If you want."

It had been one of those mornings that had been an absolute struggle for Ben to drag himself out of bed. Maybe he'd had a little more to drink than he should've the night before. At the time, it had felt like a good idea, but now he was really feeling the tiredness that tugged at his bones. At first, he didn't realize the cup had been set down for him until he heard someone talking and heard the words 'free coffee'. He glanced up as if trying to piece together what he missed, and caught sight of the younger man with bruises around his eye.