#the oh hellos

The Z-Team, per usual, invite Robert to come drink with them. Robert, however, declines this time, saying that he has something to do (and no, Invisigal, it’s not jacking off, and no, Sonar, it’s not drugs, and no, Coupé, it’s not killing people—)

The Z-Team eventually leave him alone, but they see him later in the night going into a bar he very pointedly convinces the group not to go to when they’re together. Not one for boundaries, they follow him, sitting separate from him and trying their best to hide. It’s a small place, warm and wooden, not a party scene by any stretch of the imagination

Robert drinks a little before a man that’s quickly identified as the owner comes out. He and Robert are friendly. Eventually, the man tells Robert’s that it’s time while thanking him for doing this. Robert shrugs; a favor’s a favor. He gets a guitar from the back. He goes on stage, and the Z-Team think, oh, this is going to be great! They’re about to have more blackmail material!

The owner tells Robert to play his favorite. Robert calls that depression song, and the owner calls it a hopeful one. Either way, he starts strumming, and the Z-Team gear up to start jeering and then—

“Hello, my old heart…” Robert starts. The Z-Team should’ve known. Robert’s talking voice is hot. Why wouldn’t his singing voice be, too?