Great Escake || Neil & Chase
Formalities. He wanted anything other than that, given that all the “two cents” in the world were tossed in a fountain to be forgotten. He was talented at avoiding that nonsense now-- a professional apathizer. In his softer moments he’d give in to the flow of things, but otherwise, he wanted nothing more than to stay in his lane and learn to float. That is... if this damn world would give him a chance to breathe. Owen was at it again, with his marble-filled, happy-go-lucky notions of... well, whatever. Hospitalities, he guessed? Humble, really. Smelled of something more devious than what he let on.
The guy wanted to slide this stranger a cake. Put it on my tab, he said. Fah. He felt like an in-between dealer, the messenger to be shot. At the very least, his cake should have been up to par. Chocolate. The kind that sponged in a richer, more vivid notion of delicacy. A riveting piece, one that was meant to move people. Well. The worst that could happen was the small talk that came with. He could taste the monotony like hardtack on his tongue.
With a dull look in Chase’s eye, he slid the cake over with the guy’s drink-- a delivery that would put Apollo to shame. “Here. It’s on the house. That guy--” He struck the air bluntly, to indicate the hard-headed fellow in the back. “wanted to--” See the look on your face. Said you probably needed to smile more. Today. Probably. Chase wasn’t prepared to be skewered so early in the evening. He hadn’t even prepared his obituary papers yet.
“Treat you to something nice.” There. That was enough of that. Professional, lackluster. Like a rusty spoon, probably. But hey, at the very least, it wasn’t a skewer. Now back to the kitchen, with a pivot of his heel. Before he felt the heat of sentimentality froth from this guy’s mouth.
@mooslikejagger