log: dave and jason
Who: Dave and Jason
When: Tuesday Afternoon
Where: Dining Hall
What: Lunch
David, lunch tray in hand and his bag slung over his shoulder, walked rather proudly through the crowd. He was feeling refreshed, happy, altogether pleased with himself. He was also feeling very confident in his mission to get Fio and Jason to finally stop dancing around each other and just get together already!
Breaking out of his thoughts, David looked around, squinting and setting his radar to “Asian.” Chuckling to himself, it wasn’t long before he did indeed spot Jason.
Jason was minding his own business, having luckily snagged a table tucked into one of the corners of the hall. He was reading yet another music magazine, this time, All Strings. It was one way of keeping up with the classical music world. He had a reading system in place. Eat while turning pages. It allowed him to take maximum advantage of the lunch period.
David took a deep breath before striding over to where Jason sat; he paused once he saw the book but decided his mission was more important than whatever Jason was reading--especially since it looked to be about, what else? Music. Dave set his tray down but didn’t sit. “Hey.” He greeted gruffly. “Can I sit here?”
He looked up from his magazine and nodded, gesturing to the empty seat in front of him. "Yes, you may." Once he saw Dave was seated, he ducked his head back down and continued reading.
Dave sat quietly for a moment; he picked at his food, and managed to eat a good portion of his lunch before he spoke. “So..” He searched for something to say while cursing himself for not planning ahead. “What d’you think of Fio?”
"What about her?"
David lolled his head slightly. “I know you’re her.. musical mentor, r’whatver. But besides that, do you like her?”
"She's my friend," he replied, turning to the next page on his magazine.
Dave stared at him, though Jason was too enthralled in the magazine to look back. “Is that is? I mean, you guys seem pretty close..”
"Yes, that's it." Dave had asked a question and he had answered it. What was the problem then?
David raised an eyebrow--he was beginning to regret not planning more, or not having a wingman to help. “She’s a pretty cool gal, y’know? And she really likes you.” He kept his tone casual since he didn’t want to give it all away, all at once.
Jason took a peek at Dave from on top of his magazine. He raised an eyebrow back at him, "And?" He wondered if there was a point to this conversation.
“Just sayin.” Dave amended a little quickly. “She really likes you, you like her.” Dave did his best to at least get the idea out there.
"Friends like each other, don't they?"
Dave grinned, rather forcedly. “Yeah, that they do.” He resisted the urge to ‘face palm’ and, or slam his head into the lunch table. Jason was dense, to a nearly infuriating degree. Or maybe.. Dave thought with a mild chill, Jason was just honestly not interested in Fio. Like that.
He nodded, taking his fork and cutting a bite of his food. He lifted it to his mouth and turned to the next page.
Dave felt awkward and shifted in his seat; his eyes flickered from Jason, to the damn magazine, to his food, to a sweeping glance of the cafeteria. “Uh.” He took a few bites of the food remaining on his plate. “How is Fio doing with her flute?”
Dave was asking about Fio's playing? That was a surprise. "She's doing fine." Still not progressing as fast as he had hoped (they only have roughly two months left for practice and he was busy with his own stuff) but slow progress was progress.
Dave nodded slowly. “She’s really excited about getting back into playing. And about you helpin’ her.” He said with a shrug.
“That’s good to hear.” Really, it was. Sometimes, he didn’t know if he was just forcing her into playing. Despite her reassurance that yes, she was having fun and she enjoyed playing, he still had doubts. He was a difficult taskmaster after all.
David perked up, with a grin. “Yeah she talks about it all the time. You work her hard, but I think she really likes it. She likes the challenge.” He said honestly.
Jason hmme’d in response. “Good.”
And just like that, the glimmer of getting Jason out of his shell dissipated again. “Do you think she’s really.. good? Like, could she get far?” He asked; Dave didn’t know much about classical music--he barely knew anything about regular music--but he was going to try and keep this steadily dying conversation alive.
Jason tapped his fingers on the table. He wondered how much detail he should give to Dave. He reckoned he should just keep it simple. He reached for his glass and took a drink of his water before answering, “she has...talent. Potential. But it’s raw. She has a lot to catch up on.*
David nodded. “Makes sense,” he understood, at the very least, how not practicing for a long time would set you back pretty far. “So, uh, when’s the next practice for you two?”
“Later this afternoon.”
David’s eyes widened, and he bit back a smirk. “Cool, cool.” He said with a nod. Dave stood, rather abruptly. “Uh, been nice chattin’ with you.” He said with a curt nod; he grabbed his tray. “Talk at ya later.”
Jason just nodded and waved him off. He was glad Dave left. His interest had been piqued by the Rachmaninoff article and he didn’t want to seem rude to his companion.
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