Week 3: Gilbert/Ingvar

Gilbert couldn't believe he'd actually come to a drag show. He hunkered down and covered his face so that no one would see. He assumed that when a poster reads "whatever Lola wants, Lola gets" it should be in reference to Damn Yankees for God's sake. So, he assumed he was headed to a performance of music selections from the great musical.

Gilbert was wrong.

He couldn't completely leave though. He'd paid his way in, the beer was good, and he had to admit that "Lola" could freakin' sing.

That didn't mean he wanted anyone to see him like this though, so he popped his collar to help hide his face and sat as low as he could in his seat at his back corner table. If his brother knew about this, Gilbert would never live it down.

When he remembered who recommended this place to him, Ingvar would kill them. He had paid to get in and even though he certainly wasn't in any sort of financial trouble he didn't exactly like wasting money, which meant he would have to stay here for just a little while. That way he wouldn't be wasting his money.

How wonderful.

Ingvar got himself a drink before heading to the back. He wasn't exactly interested in the show, so there was no point for him to sit further up. And besides, the bar was in the back and this certainly wasn't going to be his only drink. It seemed that someone had already taken the table he wanted, and that was just his luck. Instead he settled for the table just in front of it, deeming that it was in an acceptable spot.

Maybe if he just sat there quietly no one would really notice him.

Gilbert found himself humming along with "Lola" to "her" tradmark song. He tapped his fingers on the table while he took a sip of his beer every now and then. He knew it wasn't a very good method to remain unnoticed. He was sure most people here would not know him, but he wasn't comfortable with the chance.

He waved down a..."waitress" and ordered another beer. The young man in front of him seemed like he also didn't quite know what this establishment was when he walked inside. Gilbert felt for him--he really did.

Ingvar glanced back at the person behind him. If they were this far back then obviously he wasn't the only one who didn't intend to be here. Despite being quite sure of that, Ingvar kept quiet. He wasn't one to start conversations with perfect strangers, even if said stranger was in the same somewhat awkward situation he was in.

He turned his attention back to "Lola", only somewhat listening to the song.

Gilbert saw the young man in front of him glance backwards. He held back a smile as he waved down the waitress once more. He leaned into her space to ask her something quietly, then turned back to his beer and sipped.

A few moments later, the waitress appeared beside Ingvar with a drink. She set it down in front of him on a napkin. It was amber colored with ice.

She smiled and popped her hip out as she spoke. "Southern Comfort old fashioned from the gentleman behind you. He says it imight make you enjoy the music more."

Ingvar glanced back at the person behind him once more, then looked at the drink. He debated with himself for a moment over whether or not he should accept the drink, and finally just shrugged.

"I highly doubt that, but it would be in bad taste to waste a drink." He picked up the drink and took an experimental sip before tossing back a good amount.

The waitress left, then shortly after brought Gilbert a copy of the drink he ordered for the stranger in front of him. The albino ditched his empty beer and sipped his new drink lightly. He had a tendency to nurse the things, which is why he ordered them with ice. They were his favorite though.

He swished the drink, making light circles with his hand as he held it. The ice clinked together on every turn. He wondered how the young man had happened across this place without knowing the style of venue. He was pretty sure he didn't come here looking for a "night on Broadway" or any such thing.