#talk:ren1

Chris takes in his surrounding, turning slowly on his spot. He chanced upon someone with a sprained ankle so he carried them to their workplace where they could get some help... He was then asked to wait until their boss would get here. At first, he thought it was some sort of a club-- he hasn’t been to a club since he woke up-- but then he noticed the dancers and how most of the patrons are men... By the time the owner gets there, Chris is looking awkward and uncomfortable, not knowing where to look. “Hi, uh, you must be the owner... Is this a... strip club?” He asks carefully with a low voice. He conceptually understands what a strip club is and is aware that it’s a thing, but some deep-rooted, pastor’s son Christian guilt is kicking in. “Anyway, err, I ran into one of your employees. They sprained their ankle, I think. But they said no hospital so we came here...” he explains, rubbing his chin. “Are they gonna be okay? I could take a look, if you have a first aid kit.” He offers before realizing that he knows how to administer first aids. 

Strip club, it’s such a weird concept. Watching naked people dance, Leo can’t see the merits of that, in the same manner that he doesn’t understand the point pornography or erotica. Isn’t the whole point of sex... well, in the action? But life is so filled with ever so confusing, incomprehensible concepts, he sometimes feels as if he was a stranger stranded in a foreign land. These last couple of months have only aggravated that feeling. He doesn’t understand his twin’s anger, or his estranged sister’s grief. He did try, you know, to understand and to fit in but a creeping doubt mocks him in the back of his mind. It’s all pointless. 

Even now, Leo sits in the corner of the club not paying any attention to the dancers, simply because he figured this is what men his age are supposed to do when they are... stressed? He assumes that is what he is supposed to be feeling. But it only fills him with more frustration and confusion. Leo looks up, without his typical thin smile, when Ren approaches him. “I don’t get it,” is the first thing he says. At least the potion he took earlier is doing its work and he is in that sweet spot of tipsy. “I always wondered-- do people actually get off of this? If this is some kind of a masturbation, do they actually relieve of themselves in the bathroom or something? Am I missing something here?”