[CENTER][H3][B][COLOR=SLATEGRAY][hr]FREDERICK BLACKWELL[/COLOR][/B][/H3][sub][i]Tiger Works[/i], Milk Street, [b]Pointe Bordeaux[/b] | 11:00PM [/sub][/CENTER][hr]


[INDENT]"[b]Hey there.[/b]"

Freddie looked up from the empty glass into which he had been ruminating, and found himself before a man who looked to be around his age, if not a little older. He was dressed in the style typical of this part of town; his brown brogues were brazenly battered, and Freddie was certain that the thick-framed glasses which sat on the tip of his nose had to be non-prescription. His hair was fairly short, and yet still pulled up into a small tuft of a bun at the man's crown; a smattering of well-kept hair framing his jaw and his upper lip waxed into place. The man was decidedly 'hipster', and Freddie would have bemoaned him were his features not so attractive... Through his beer-goggles, that was. Freddie was two or three pints into one of Tiger Works' famous craft ales, having been sat in the rustic establishment (all raw brickwork and exposed beams) for the past hour and a half. 

"[color=SLATEGRAY][b]Sorry, hey,[/b][/color]" Frederick apologised, snapping himself back to reality. 

The man smiled. "[b]No worries,[/b]" he said. "[b]You're looking awful glum. Penny for your thoughts?[/b]"

Freddie smiled meekly. "[b][color=SLATEGRAY]I guess I have a lot on my mind,[/color][/b]" he confessed, blushing a little. "[color=SLATEGRAY][b]It's a long story.[/b][/color]"

It was true. Freddie [i]did[/i] have a lot on his mind. In fact, he'd had a lot on his mind for almost a week now, ever since he first touched down in this dreaded city. He had been absolutely certain that his self-assigned mission would be a walk in the park; that, by now, he would be basking in the glory of being Crescent City's saviour, and enjoying all those particular benefits that came with such a role. But alas, here he was, for the fourth night in a row now. Alone at a bar, drinking and [i]thinking[/i]. And whilst the former was ordinarily a favourite leisure of his, he found the latter was decidedly good at ruining his fun. 

"[b]I like long stories,[/b]" he said. "[b]Can I buy you a drink?[/b]"

[center]***[/center]

The man had revealed himself as Oscar; in his own words an 'events-planner-cum-photographer-cum-graphic-designer', who had moved to the city to study at Grimm University and never left. Two rounds later, the pair were still chatting; though admittedly, it seemed that Oscar's favourite point of conversation was... Well, [i]Oscar[/i]. Freddie was silently thankful, since it allowed him to remain vague about his reasons for being here. He had a feeling that [i]'Oh, actually, I'm a Hyperhuman and I wanted to get rid of this storm, but I can't and it's driving me insane'[/i] was perhaps not the answer Oscar was looking for; and so it was a relief that the hipster didn't press further when being told something vague about Freddie 'having a project lined up that fell through'. 

[b]"I gotta say, that's a cute accent you got there,[/b]" Oscar blurted, seemingly finding a spare breath between his life story to talk about something pertaining to Freddie. "[b]Where's it from?[/b]"

Perhaps it was the booze, or perhaps that it was that, beneath all his insincerities and cliche, Oscar was a reasonably attractive man, but Freddie instantly perked up upon receiving the complement. The truth was, he had had very little luck in Crescent City at all; he'd chatted to people in various bars, but the people he met were different than those back home. He ordinarily found it so easy to impress Americans, but for some reason he'd found that his usual schtick just didn't wash here. 

"[color=SLATEGRAY][b]Thanks,[/b][/color]" he replied. "[color=SLATEGRAY][b]It's from England. And no, I haven't met The Queen. But I [i]have[/i] met Prince Charles, and Princess Eugene,[/b][/color]" he said. "[b][color=SLATEGRAY]My dad actually met Princess Di, when she was al--[/color][/b]"

"[b]Ugh,[/b]" Oscar interrupted, seeming to recoil at Freddie's words. "[b]I [i]hate[/i] the Royal family. They're like, a symbol of everything that's wrong with the world. Haven't you heard of Karl Marx? He's a sociologist who said that--[/b]"

"[b][color=SLATEGRAY]Yeah, I know Marx, thanks,[/color][/b]" Freddie cut back, even sharper than Oscar had. For a moment, the tension between the two lingered; palpable in their locked gaze. But Oscar clearly wanted something (and truthfully, so did Freddie), and so the American seemed to skim over the tiff.

"[b]Hey, it's getting late,[/b]" he said, pretending to check the time. "Y[b]ou wanna move on some place else?[/b]" he asked, his eyebrow raised and words loaded with implication. 

"[b][color=SLATEGRAY]Yeah, definitely,[/color][/b]" Freddie agreed. "[b][color=SLATEGRAY]I'm staying in this apartment down in South Beach. We could head back there, if you wanted. Great views of the city...[/color][/b]" he said, trailing off as he noticed the smirk that was now plastered across Oscar's face. "[b][color=SLATEGRAY]...What?[/color][/b]" he asked, furrowing his brow. 

"[b]South Beach?[/b]" Oscar giggled.

"[b][color=SLATEGRAY]Yeah. Why?[/color][/b]" Freddie asked.

Oscar laughed again. "[b]I dunno, man. I guess I thought you had taste.[/b]"

"[b][color=SLATEGRAY]Well, I mean, I know the flooding's pretty bad, but it seems like a nice area to me...[/color][/b]" Freddie argued, not entirely sure what Oscar was hoping to gain from this particular exchange.

"[b]Sure it is, if you like Starbucks and white people,[/b]" Oscar laughed. "[b]Plus, it's too far out. I don't know why anyone would live out in Los Paraíso when it's so... [i]Boring...[/i] All the action's right here.[/b]"

"[b][color=SLATEGRAY]Well, where do you live?[/color][/b]" Freddie asked, getting irritated with the judgement being passed over him. Heck, he didn't even [i]live[/i] in this city, but he still found himself getting defensive of his temporary South Beach pad, if only as a response to Oscar's snobbery.

Oscar smiled. "[b]Me and a couple friends rent this awesome pad in a converted factory, just a couple blocks from here,[/b]" he said, smugly. "[b]It's super similar to here, too, got a real cool vibe to it,[/b]" he gushed. "[b]But we can't go there. The guys get weird about me bringing dudes back.[/b]"

The two shared their second awkward silence of the night, as it became clear that neither of them were getting what they wanted from each other that night. Freddie looked around sheepishly, hoping to fix his gaze upon anything but Oscar's eyes.

"[b]Well, gotta dash,[/b]" Oscar broke the silence, getting to his feet and yawning obnoxiously. "[b]It's getting real late. But it was great meeting you, Philip,[/b]" he added. And with that, he was gone. Freddie sighed, slumping forward onto the bar and waving for another drink.

"[b][color=SLATEGRAY]Freddie,[/color][/b]" he muttered to himself. "[b][color=SLATEGRAY]It's Freddie.[/color][/b]"



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