Mark kept a healthy distance behind his child, he’d never been one to smother them but he was also protective. Especially with the social worker keeping an eye on his actions. However, he caught himself smiling in amusement at the exchange unfolding in front of him.
The boy took a look at the guitar before meeting the gaze of the stranger. He was much like his father, very shy at first and then a bubble of enthusiasm and chatter. A grin and a small pit of laughter left the boy at the comical suggestion, it clearly working on the four year old. “Yep! Maui!” He chirped before showing his muscles like he’d seen the character do in the cartoon after it being on repeat many times.
The father let out a soft chuckle and took the boy’s hand in his. The familiar screen-name took his attention as he composed himself slightly and smirked, “Mr- Blanderson” he taunted back before hugging the boy to his side. “Dax and I thought to come check you out and let me tell you, he’s a tough critic. So you mustn’t be half bad if this little man likes you.”
Hearing the boy giggle upon hearing his father make a fuss of him, Mark knew his intentions had been fulfilled. Although he had come to appreciate the music they’d both listened to, there hadn’t been a lie in what he’d said.
“How’s it been today?” He asked casually while gesturing to the crowd. “Think you’ll be selling out Madison square gardens any time soon? Hey you’ll have to hook us up with some free tickets if that happens. Dedicated fans over here.” He smiled as he watched the boy observe the other’s guitar. “I’m also offended. Apparently you’re better than me.”
The boy let out a laugh before looking up at his Dad. “He is bedder than you,” he grinned before laughing further at his father’s pout.
“Yeah we’ll see doofus.” The elder shot back at his boy before composing a more serious stance. He found it easy to be holy and a good father to his boy, yet it was often a flick between serious adult conversation and bringing joy to the four year old. “This just a hobby outside the law stuff then?” He asked curiously as he watched Daxton inspect the guitar with his eyes. “I think you should consider otherwise. You certainly have a shine about you when performing. That’s just my comment though, take from it what you will.”
“Whoa!” he exclaimed, holding his hand up to his chest. “Look at those guns! Someone’s on their way to giving Maui a run for his money!” He grinned, holding his own arm up. “You’ve definitely already have me beat.”
He glanced back up at the other man before shifting his gaze back down to the little boy in front of him. “Dax, that’s a cool name!” he said, smiling softly as he watched the boy giggle. It was clear to him that he meant everything to his father, and vice versa. It was sweet to see, and he liked seeing this side to his neighbor. They’d only spoken once before, but he’d gotten much more of a hardass vibe than what was being presented here. “Oh, man, New York’s toughest critic, then? No pressure at all,” he teased. “I’m glad to have your approval, I hope I can keep it.”
He stood back up as the older man struck up casual conversation. “It’s been good; it’s a Saturday, I’ve seen plenty of people come through here.” He took a peak into his guitar case and smiled. “Thankfully, I’ve seemed to impress them too.” He laughed lightly with a small shake of his head. “Probably not any time soon, but no doubt, your names are first on the list should it ever happen. You have a daughter too, right? She’s on there too, even if I haven’t met her yet.”
He grinned at the small exchange, chuckling with Daxton before tilting his head at Mark. “Well, I didn’t even know he played, but I’ll take your word for it. Thank you, Dax,” he teased.
His eyes dimmed just slightly at the question, though he maintained a pleasant smile as he nodded. “Yeah, it’s just a hobby,” he said halfheartedly. “Thank you, though. I’ve been performing for as long as I can remember, it’s second nature to me by this point. I’m glad to know that I’ve still got it.”
Blaine had noticed the young boy eyeing his guitar curiously during the conversation with his father. He smiled and knelt down again, waving the boy over to come stand by him. “This is Lucy,” he explained, patting the guitar face lightly with his hand. “She was my first real guitar, I got her for my ninth birthday. Would you want to help me get the song started? It’s real easy, all I’d need you to is…” he trailed off as he strummed. He smiled before holding the pick out to him. “Think you could do that?”
Daxton let out a giggle of laughter at the other man, easily feeling comfortable enough around him to talk and not hide behind his father. As the adults spoke, he found interest in eyeing up the guitar and surveying the people passing by.
“Well, keep at it. Best way to get it out there? Then again, what do I know? I’m preaching to the converted huh?” he smirked softly and kept his spatial awareness about him, to register when his son was in relation to him. “Yes I do and I’m sure she’d appreciate that just as much, thank you,” he said lightly.
Mark dropped his head slightly before smiling to himself. “I know basic chords, I can play a few songs and they’re usual stuff Dad likes. Not “Everything Is Awesome” from the Lego movie,” he explained his son’s views.
Pushing his hands into his pockets, he shifted his stance slightly. “Nothing wrong with pursuing it though,” he shrugged softly as he hoped he hadn’t offended him.
Mark gave him a slight nudge to get his attention before watching the boy step closer to the other male. Daxton tilting his head at the instrument before him then grinning. “Luty,” he repeated before his face twisted with shock and excitement. Such a small act was a big moment to the four year old.
“Don’t drop it, Dax,” he reminded him softly as he was forever shaking plectrums out of his own guitar after the boy posted them through the hole. Keeping an eye on him, he smirked at the joy it brought the boy to take the pick and strum the strings. The soft and pleasant notes filling the air and leaving his son to step back in awe and admiration as he looked up at Blaine.
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