the signs & the stars can't say what tomorrow will bring

James gave a nod of his head and took the ticket that was being held out to him. "I can pay you for it-" He offered, voice trailing off some. It wasn't like he had anything else to do and he was planning on seeing what was playing here anyways. And really, it probably wouldn't hurt any going to see a show with a stranger. At the other man's question, James gave another nod of his head.

Landon shrugged. "Definitely don't worry about that. I don't mind." It wasn't because he was rolling in money, but he was honestly grateful someone had stopped, and whether they thought he was weird or didn't, kept it to themselves. That was payment enough. He returned the handshake, his own firm and sure. "Nice to meet you James, I'm Landon." He offered a half-smile. "Okay, but let me know if you change your mind on the drink. I might go wild and order, like, Fanta or something. I could always make it two." He cocked an eyebrow. "It's open mic night. I work with one of the singers. Can't say anything about anyone else who might perform. Hopefully it'll be good."

"Bad luck, that," Ruairi said, more to himself than not as he weighed his options for a moment. He'd never had an issue rolling with the punches, so to speak, as he'd gotten older and offering the other man company— even if it felt a bit silly to try in the first place— seemed a relatively harmless endeavor on the face of things. "Well, I reckon I'll be here a while if you want someone to chat shit with while you're here?" He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head with a low laugh.

Landon nodded his agreement. "We usually make more flexible plans," he admitted. "His job can be rather unpredictable. I guess now we remember why we don't buy tickets. So either luck or memory wasn't on our side."

Music was what kept James alive, at least he was pretty sure that it was. And now that he was back home, he was wanting to get back into the music scene. Even if it meant making his way down to Stage Left to see if any bands were playing. Granted, he should have probably checked before hand but well, it had slipped his mind. Like most things these days if he was being honest. With his hands shoved into the pocket of his pants, his head whipped around as the other spoke about the ticket. "Are you sure?" James asked, bringing one of his hands out of his pocket to rub at the stubble on his cheek. "Are you not using it or-?" He trailed off in question, looking at the other.

Landon extended the ticket as an emphatic answer. "Yes, I'm sure," he said almost immediately. "I'm not using it. I have my own. This one's extra. My brother cancelled last minute, and I really don't like going places alone."

Ruairi wasn’t all that positive he’d ever even attempted to go to Stage Left at any time since he’d moved to Chicago— it wasn’t out of a desire to avoid the place, he simply seemed not to have many friends who’d nudged him towards the venue in the first place and he often kept himself so busy otherwise that it just hadn’t lined up in such a way that he could go. Grant had all but shoved the idea in his face by informing him that he’d be making a rare performance and Ruairi had been utterly incapable of denying his best friend the opportunity to be supported doing something he enjoyed and so rarely showed off. And so, with a ticket tucked into the pocket of his coat and genuine curiosity growing in him the closer he came to the venue, he was genuinely startled when someone spoke to him and he raised an eyebrow with a laugh in response to the man’s insistence. 

It should've happened sooner than it did, that Landon ran into someone who already had a ticket to the show. It definitely left him feeling more stupid than even the people walking past and giving him a wide berth because they probably didn't want what he was peddling. He couldn't blame them, but there was a certain degree of indignity to what he was doing. It made the slow slide into actual embarrassment with the other's questions.

WAVIES | pattern 01.