It's the grumpiest invite ever. It comes out of the blue, late afternoon, when Solomon calls up Javi and says, "I've got tickets for a magic show. Come with me. I'll cover the booze."
Presumably, Javi agrees to this, otherwise, the scene is going to struggle. The show is around 7:30; the sun is still in the sky, although it's low and turning an electric red that blazes off the windows of skyscrapers like a spectral fire. Solomon is...dressed up. At least a step above his usual work clothes; the tweed jacket has been exchanged for a tailored suit jacket and he's got a nice, neat tie with a jeweled scarab tiepin. And a canvas bag over one shoulder that seems to have a bottle of decent scotch inside. He's waiting outside the venue - which is otherwise unremarkable, just a painted door and some blacked out windows. Other people, dressed anywhere from dead casual to night-on-the-town fancy are filtering in.
Did Javi expect this invitation? Well, no -- but he was pretty quick to agree, which may give some insight into his social life. Of course, when your best friend is your brother's ghost, you're probably not going to mind hanging out by yourself as much as some people. He has shown up right on time, maybe not as dressed up as Solomon is, but a little more than just an obscure band T-shirt or hoodie and jeans. Presentable.
He's making his way toward the other man right now, and when he sees him his face lights up with one of those wide grins that seem to come so easily to him. "Oh shit," he says when he gets close enough, taking in Solomon's appearance, "you look good, man. You need me to wingman you or something?" Because he'll do it, Sol.
Solomon scowls at this greeting. "No," he says, but his eyes twitch to one side like maybe that question hit a bit more closely to home than he might have wanted. He clears his throat. "It's simply a small, intimate venue, and I reserved a table. Sitting at it alone seemed..." he sighs. "Unacceptably pathetic." He waves to dismiss the observation the moment he makes it. "Anyway. Thank you for coming. I didn't actually want to miss the show. How have you been?" He moves to the door even as he asks.
Javi's smile shifts into a wince almost as quickly as it appeared with Solomon's reply. But still, he isn't deterred for long, whether he's caught that little sideways glance or not. "Sure," he says as he starts toward the door, too. "Seems fun. Thanks for the invite." One hand slides into his pocket as he glances toward the other man again, and he shrugs, continuing, "Not too bad. Nothing that exciting." There's another brief pause, before he adds, "Signed up for a class thing. The EMT one. You? Doing good?" He glosses over that little bit of information pretty quickly with the question, but he does also sound interested in the reply to it, so maybe that's why.
A small foyer leads to a dark curtain, and a ticket-checker there. Solomon hands over a ticket, and the two are led through to the next room. It's draped with fake velvet with small tables arranged before a rather tiny stage. One table is, indeed, for the two of them, and Solomon answers Javi's question as they're led there. "I'm fine. There have been university politics, which I loathe, but it's tolerable." A faint smile at the information. His voice is a bit less...irritated at the world as he says, "Excellent to hear. Are you excited?"
He sets the bag beside his chair, and pulls out a bottle of scotch, two sturdy plastic cups, and a small box of donuts from a local bakery. To be fair, this seems normal - a number of the other people sitting down have brought food and drink. He nods for Javi to choose a cup. And a donut; when opened the box reveals a variety of dangerously sugary pastries.
Javi may have been to plenty of clubs in his life, owing to his enjoyment of music, but he still takes time to look around. By the time they sit down at their table, he's grinning again -- everything in here seems to be highly satisfactory."That sucks," he replies, of the politicking. He looks like he might have had a follow up question, too, though he's distracted from it by what Solomon asks next. After a moment, he looks a little sheepish, but he nods. "Yeah," he admits, "I'm excited. You know it don't even take that long? Just like three or four months."
He reaches for one of the cups to pull it toward him, and then, of course, a donut. Though he does take his time selecting a perfect one. "Thanks," he adds, lifting it in salute. "You come here a lot?" That salute turns into gesturing vaguely around to indicate the club.
"It does. And no one will allow me to eat the people who annoy me," Solomon agrees, with a smile that bares _all_ his teeth. He selects a donut of his own and takes a bit as if it were a poor substitute. Then that's put aside on a napkin, and he pours them both a healthy drink. "Want some pop with yours?" he asks, fishing out a small bottle of Coke from the bag, as well. He's adding it to his.
"That sounds very doable, then," he says, with a brief uptick in his mood. "If there's anything I can do to help, let me know. Remember that we made a deal; don't think you're doing me a favor by not using what you're owed." A brief shake of his head. "Actually, no. It was something of a whim, really. I do like illusionists but I don't--"
He breaks off as someone makes their way towards the table. It's a middle-aged man with dark skin and a balding pate, who beams as he sets a small box on the side of the table that isn't taken up with donuts or booze. "I see we have our sweetheart table. Excellent!"
"Oh no." That's Solomon, who has the horrified look of someone who, perhaps, booked a romantic extra that he then forgot to cancel when plans suddenly changed. "Excuse me, we don't--"
The guy is really enjoying this, though, so he just breezes right by Solomon's attempt to shut him down, and he says, "For those who reserve our date package, we like to offer a little //extra// magic to the evening. Please, enjoy!" He gestures at the box with one hand, pulling a very large, long black hankie out of his breast pocket. He drapes it dramatically over the box while Solomon quietly puts his head in his hands. A bit of abracadabra later, and the cloth is whisked away to reveal...a small chocolate-and-cherry cake, decorated with stars and icing that writes out, "You're Enchanting To Me."
This is offered to Javi with a proud smile.
"Wow, those assholes." How dare they, really. Javi shakes his head as though it's very tragic. He's used to Solomon enough by now that the bared-teeth smile only makes him look a //little// disconcerted. Mostly, he's amused. "Yeah, I know," he continues, "I will. Don't worry, you're gonna get sick of me hanging out making you do my flashcards." He might be joking -- but also he probably isn't completely joking. You're welcome, Solomon.
That //slightly// unsettled -- if also entertained -- thread is going to be truly excellent for what happens next.
As we know, Javi is not really capable of keeping anything that comes into his head from showing on his face. So, when the guy comes over to bring them what is apparently a date package (maybe he'll enjoy the fact that he totally called it later, but not right now) the expressions that cross his face tell a very vivid story. First, his eyes widen, and the longer the guy goes on the wider they get, until there's white practically around the entire iris and his eyebrows threaten to levitate right off his head. Luckily, this isn't that kind of magic show. He looks from the guy, to Solomon, to the guy again, then back. Then again. Yes, 'shocked' doesn't begin to cover it. Dismay, sympathy, amusement, horror -- at both the situation and also that he'd just looked like he thought it was funny -- embarrassment...though not so much because he's embarrassed that now everyone thinks he's on a date with Sol, and more because he can follow this thread enough to know where it leads. Nowhere good. And then...the cake. Oh, the cake.
He stares down at it for //several// seconds, probably at least a few too long, before he can actually come up with something to say. The thing he comes up with to say is...decent. Good enough that if the epic saga of near-panic hadn't just played out as obviously as if he'd been screaming it from the rooftops, it //might// not have clued this random person who doesn't know them in to the fact that anything was off. Unfortunately, all that stuff did happen. Whoops. "Wow," he says as he looks up, "thank you. That's really nice. I'mma tell all my friends about this place." Great.
Even as pleased as he is that someone FINALLY ordered the date package, which meant he got to actually do this magic trick he's been practicing FOR WEEKS, the guy isn't oblivious to both Solomon and Javi's sudden embarrassment and other exciting emotions. He falters. "Uh...was there a mistake in the reservation?"
Solomon, his reddened cheeks not as visible in the theatre gloom, quickly says, "No. It was fine. It was great. It looks like a lovely cake."
"Are you sure? We have a couple of different flavors on offer. And some different sayings! I think my favorite is 'let's make magic toget--'"
"No. Thank. You." Solomon is now clipped and one inch from snarling, and the man recoils, stammers, and hurries off. At least he leaves the cake. Solomon doesn't look at Javi, but does say, heavily, "I apologize. For that. I forgot that it was an add on, or else I would have canceled it."
"Nope." Javi is a lot less snarly about it than Solomon, though it's possible the guy won't even notice. "It's great, it's perfect. Thanks. Good job." Okay, this is less good. But the retreat's already happening anyway, and so luckily for everyone he doesn't have to come up with anything //else//.
He stays quiet for even a few seconds longer, long enough to fix his face into something more presentable. At least the urge to laugh seems to have left him, but it's possible Solomon won't appreciate sympathy any more than amusement, so he works on that, too. "It's all good," he eventually says. "About to eat the hell out of some cake so I'm pretty happy about it, to be honest." Is it too soon for jokes? Maybe, but it's an attempt at lightening the mood, and not directed at the situation in particular -- that the other man has obviously been stood up. He's also more serious when he asks, "You okay?"
There's a sudden bark of laughter. "The cake does look pretty damn good," he allows. He's still not looking at the other man. He picks up his whiskey and Coke and knocks it back like a champ. Just, completely downs it. When he comes up to breathe, he seems to have found his composure. "I'm fine. A bit embarrassed, but it's not the first or last time that'll happen," he admits.
He clears his throat. "And yes, I have to confess I roped you in as a pinch hitter because going home was a bit more tragic than going out with a friend instead of a date," he says, with a grimace. Now, finally, he glances over. "I apologize." Then, a nod at the cake. "You can even have //more than half// of the cake as tribute."
"Right?" And in fact, Javi does look like he's about to dig into the cake //right now//. It has literal stars on it. This is right up his alley. However, he reaches for his cup before he does it, too, and while he doesn't down it quite as fast as Solomon downs his, he does take a generous swallow. It's obviously going to be that kind of night.
He laughs as he sets it down, and there's another vague wave to dismiss any concern. "Hey, long as you don't mind that I'm definitely spending the rest of the night pretending in my head you did all this for me 'cause you wanna be //best// friends, I'm good," he assures Solomon with another smile. And then he does cut into the cake, taking a generous piece -- though not quite half yet -- and pushing the rest toward the other man so he can have some, too. "You wanna talk about it?" he asks after another few moments' study of the other man. "If you don't," he adds quickly, "I get it. But I'm seriously fine."
"It's not that dramatic," Solomon assures Javi with a smile. "Simply a woman I've gone out to dinner with a couple of times, who decided rather abruptly that this would not be one of those times, and that," he chuckles, although there's a bit of an edge to it, "it's not me, it's her, and if she changed her mind, she'd call me." His raised eyebrows suggest how likely he thinks that is to happen. "No one's heart was engaged, I assure you."
He pours himself another drink, then offers to top up Javi's. "And don't worry, the //best// friend pitch gets something a little grander than this. Dinner at the aquarium, violinists, the works." He flashes a grin.
"Still. That sucks, man, I'm sorry." Javi pushes his cup toward Sol for more, using his other hand to grab his fork so he can take a bite -- because hey, it's cake. And while he might be studying Solomon more closely for a few seconds, he just nods. "Well, whatever," he declares, "her loss. This is fucking delicious." To emphasize the point, he takes another bite, letting out a happy little sigh. "So good."
He leans back, gesturing toward Solomon with the fork. "You better not be lying," he continues, "'cause now I'm gonna be sad if I don't get that one of these days. Plus best friend bracelets in a champagne glass or no deal."
Solomon shrugs. "It happens. It's fine, really. Won't be the first time, won't be the last." At least he's philosophical about it. And he gives a little nod to Javi's enthusiasm for the cake. He seems content with his donut and alcohol, so even if it's //fine//, maybe he doesn't want to consume the cake, even though he's normally very much into anything sweet in the vicinity.
He does sound genuinely amused as he chuckles. "Well, if it wasn't real before, it's real now. Aquarium, dinner, and friendship bracelets it is." Just as he says that, the stage lights brighten, and the theatre lights go even more dim than before. The trio of magicians comes out - it seems that tonight is something of a mix of illusion and stand up, with the three each trying to 'sabotage' the others' performances, and ending up 'accidentally' making each others' illusions even grander than they were going to be. The three are quite good magicians, and if their comedic timing isn't perfect, they seem to be having a good time.
"Yeah, I get you," Javi agrees as he pokes his fork into the cake again. "I got big ex energy. Fun for a couple weeks but you're not gonna bring me home to meet your mom." He shrugs -- he's also pretty matter-of-fact. "You got a lot going for you, though, so yeah, you're good." It's a bit of a different spin on Sol's situation than the other man actually said, but he's probably in a place to be more optimistic about it. The cake helps. "Let me know if you //do// want a wingman, though, 'cause I'm great at that."
He grins, and now also gets to imagine their Real Best Friend Date as the magicians take the stage. He may not have been the preferred companion for the evening, but he's genuinely enjoying the show. Delighted by it, actually, particularly when one of them sets the other's 'cutting a person in half' box on fire (the volunteer comes out unscathed, of course). "This is great," he remarks during a round of applause that he joins in enthusiastically. And then, with another laugh, adds, "You wanna blow off steam after, there's a spot over by Lincoln Park that's //full// of assholes."
Solomon picks up his plastic cup and 'clinks' it gently against Javi's. "Amen to that. At least it means we get to enjoy variety," he adds with a grin. "And I'll keep it in mind. Might be fun one day." He takes a drink. He, too, seems to enjoy the illusions, and so do the rest of the audience. When there's a burst of laughter that fills the room, he even makes a small noise, like he just wants to //bathe// in it. He doesn't, thankfully enough. But it lends extra enthusiasm to his, "Hell, yeah. I'd be up for that. If you were." He gives the other man a quick glance. "You don't have to be. It's not everyone's thing."
"Hey," Javi replies with a shrug, "whatever. Those guys were looking to start some shit, too. They just picked the wrong guy to start it with." Of course, Solomon //did// have a hand in the starting, but he can conveniently forget that. He digs into the cake again -- he's actually eaten a significant amount of it now, though it's hard to know where he's putting it, as wiry as he is -- before continuing, "Pretty sure you're not gonna kill nobody so, yeah. Might just watch you, though. This is the moneymaker, can't mess it up too bad." He gestures to his face with another wide smile.
Solomon snorts. "I was actually kinda getting my ass kicked," he admits. "I got a good first shot in, but honestly? If Mae hadn't gone off the fucking rails, I'd have probably come out of it with a few good knocks." Mind you, he doesn't sound all that unhappy about that - like getting knocked around is something he relishes almost as much as being the one doing the knocking. There's a laugh. "You're just saying that because you're cuter than I am," he accuses lightly.
Javi snorts, though he does have to reply, "Yeah, maybe. Sorry to bail on you. That girl is really fucking intense." He shakes his head, starting to scrape the cake crumbs on his plate onto the side of his fork, since he's not about to waste any even when he goes on. "Kinda a vibe, though." And obviously he knows she has some other things going on, too.
He finishes up what was in front of him without taking the last piece -- maybe he'll take it to go. Instead, he reaches for his drink to finish that off, looking a //little// pleased at Solomon's last comment as he does. "Hey, everyone can't be as cute as me," he says. "But you got a good look. All smart and professory and shit."
"She's definitely got a vibe," Solomon agrees, with a shake of his head. He doesn't make it sound like a compliment, although it's less anger than frustration in his features. Luckily, a particularly interesting illusion on the stage - levitating the poor assistant up and spinning him around as the three magicians argue about whose assistant he actually is - draws his attention and lightens his mood.
When it's a little quieter, he says to Javi, "Thank you for saying so. I have a bit of a...vibe, as well. It doesn't exactly add to my appeal." A dry humor, there, and he shrugs. He shows absolutely no interest in the cake, but has taken half the box of donuts as his just desserts.
Javi is distracted by the illusion, too -- he's easily distracted in the best of times, and this is certainly worth watching. He laughs again, clapping very enthusiastically for the magicians (and the assistant), before he turns back to Sol again.
"Yeah," he admits after a moment, "You do. But like...okay. So yeah you're kinda creepy sometimes, but you're not the only creepy person around, you know? Like, I know it's weird as fuck when I'm talking to invisible shit all the time, probably creep people out, too. And you got a ton of good stuff. You're cool, you're smart. Just gotta find someone who, like...vibes //with// you. Or whatever. You know what I mean?" Another slightly vague gesture with his fork, as though that's going to hammer his point home. And the other man definitely did not ask for this dubiously helpful pep talk, but apparently he's getting it anyway. "You're a good guy."
Solomon just stares at Javi, those unsettling blue eyes unblinking. He doesn't say anything, and he doesn't seem like his temper is roused. He just //stares//. "Are you...trying to cheer me up?" he asks, finally. He sounds genuinely baffled about this. The last sentence gets a short, sharp laugh. It's less //at// Javi than it is at the situation, or perhaps the sentiment of him being a good guy, but nuance might be lost. "Thanks, Javi. And, for the record, I don't find you talking to invisible shit to be at all creepy. It's interesting."
Surely that soothes any lingering anxiety Javi might ever have about it.
Solomon's very unsettling gaze may be beginning to unnerve Javi a little again -- he may not look angry, but it really is creepy. And he doesn't actually understand what's going on, since he clearly didn't expect this reaction. What he //did// expect is not apparent, but it wasn't this. So, when Solomon finally replies, it's definitely a relief, and it makes him laugh again. A little louder than necessary, perhaps to do with some of that release of tension, but also quite genuine.
"Man, fuck you," he replies once he's composed himself a little bit, though he's still grinning. "Course I'm tryna cheer you up, that's what friends do. Don't mean it's not true." He snorts, shaking his head and eyeing the other man skeptically, but also with some fondness, especially at the reassurance at the end. Such as it is. "You're welcome. And good, 'cause this guy's been in my ear the whole night and it's really fucking distracting. He gets mad if I ignore him too long."
Solomon chuckles. "I appreciate it." He doesn't have Javi's restraint in not taking the last piece of cake immediately; the takes the last donut without hesitation. The show on stage is wrapping up, though, so he doesn't get to take more than a bite before he has to put it down and clap enthusiastically along with the rest. As the noise subsides, he asks, curiously, "What's he saying? Did he enjoy the show?" A pause. "Can he even see the show?"
"Good. You should. I'm an awesome friend." It's all kind of an odd mixture of very confident and absolutely //not//, but most of the things Javi says about himself seem at least half-joking. He gestures toward one of the server-type people circulating around, pointing to the cake once he's gotten their attention. "Let me get this to go? Thanks, honey." The last is directed toward Sol, apparently because he can't help himself. But at least he leaves it at that, focusing on the question instead. Once the server is out of earshot, of course. "Oh, busting my ass 'cause we're on an accident date," he says with a shrug, "but he's just mad 'cause he can't have cake. He saw the show, though, yeah. He liked it." He pauses; then: "He likes you better after today, in case you were wondering."
Solomon gives Javi a thoughtful look. "Yeah. You are." It's not joking at all. He also doesn't dwell on it, because Javi is calling him 'honey', and now he's rolling his eyes even as the server grins cheerfully at them both and whisks the cake away, to be later returned in a small black box with 'Stand Up Enchantment' written on the top in silver sparkles. He snickers at the report. "At least I know the venue's a winner with the living //and// the dead. I'll put a gold star by it." A thoughtful pause. "I'm glad. He's protective, but a bit of an asshole. Like a brother should be."
Javi doesn't dwell on it, either -- but he //definitely// looks pleased, the smile shifting from joking into something far more natural as his head dips and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. It's far easier to talk about his protective-yet-slightly-assholeish brother. "Yeah," he agrees. "Like that. He warns me and stuff when she's about to go down, he helps me out if I'm looking for something or tryna go somewhere or whatever. But yeah, kinda a shit sometimes. Was when he was alive, too." He pulls the box toward him so he doesn't forget it, but his eyebrows raise. "You got any brothers or sisters?"
"Sometimes big brothers have to be a bit of a shit," Solomon says, like it's a secret mantra passed down to elder siblings. "Keeps little brothers and sisters on their toes, you know?" His smile is warm and fond, although he looks away when Javi asks the question. "Yeah. A little sister. She just had a baby." He sighs. "We don't talk much, anymore. I need to go and speak to her, though. But--"
He breaks off. "Never mind. I'll talk to you about that later. For now, it looks like we're on our way out." The ushers are making meaningful looks at the tables, and people are gathering their stuff and drifting towards the exit. Solomon puts all his trash away in the bag he brought, and stands up to do likewise.
It's totally not to avoid answering questions about this sister. TOTALLY.
"Huh? Yes you were." Though this is //not// to Sol, but to Javi's invisible hanger-on. Then another pause, and then, "Didn't say I wasn't one, too, did I?" And then Sol is agreeing with him, and he gestures toward the other (corporeal) man. "See? There. Ain't a bad thing."
He grabs his box as the ushers come to see everyone out -- because he will absolutely not be wasting that cake -- though his expression shifts a little thoughtfully when Sol gives him that interrupted explanation. He doesn't press right now, though.
"Okay," he says. "Sounds good." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, tapping a text into it -- when it comes through on Sol's phone, he will see that it's an address. "You wanna do the afterparty," he adds, "meet me there in like an hour. Worse comes to worst, we just get fucking smashed." Which is pretty good anyway. "And thanks for the invite. This was really fun."
Solomon chuckles at the half-heard conversation. He doesn't interrupt, but does look rather smug at being used as a piece of evidence for the argument. The text, when it arrives, gets a sharp, toothy grin. "That'll give me just enough time to change clothes, assuming the trains run on time. Don't give up on me if I'm a few minutes late; I'll text you."
So, apparently he's up for afterparty, whether that ends up begin smashing drinks or smashing faces. When they step out into the muggy, hot air of the city summer, he says, "Thanks for accepting a last minute invite. And this //was// fun." And then he's off, with a little wave, heading for the nearest train station.
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