005: AUDIO

[intheblanks]

[This evening the city might want to be grateful that Robert Chase has what might be described as a decent singing voice, even when, as now, it's coming out faintly slurred through the wires.]I ain't laughing

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[this is not here...]

[as_damaged]

[but she is watching. maybe worrying, just a bit.]

audio)

[intheblanks]

[Well, as long as she's watching the post, the line keeps opening periodically.

Ahem.]

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,
But the very next day, you gave it away.
This year, to save me from tears-

☞ when you're living in a hallway that keeps growing

[as_damaged]

Curiosity keeps her from letting this go, and when she sees him mention to someone else that he's not in a bar... well, if he were in a bar, Cameron wouldn't be heading out to pull him off his stool and sober him up. But she has a suspicion. One she can't just ignore-- curiosity is a professional habit, after all.

Feeling foolish she pauses at a corner to slip her shoes off, walking down the hall in stocking feet. Stealth isn't exactly her forte but it's better than the clatter of her heels, and (if she's right in her guess,) maybe he won't notice the soft footfalls, slow and uneven thuds. To her they seem to echo, shockingly loud, each accompanied by a jolt of cold from the hospital floor as she heads down the hall to stand outside the laundry room and listen. Somewhere to hide out.

☞ when you're living in a hallway that keeps growing

[intheblanks]

Chase is past noticing very much. Playing bartender, he's lined up his own glasses (plastics, and vending machine polystyrenes) along one shelf, careful even in this state to avoid disturbing the cover sheets keeping hygiene in the dark.

He could have gone to a bar - but he's more likely to be found in one when he isn't planning on seeking out oblivion. Most nights catch him in one of the local hole-in-the-walls for a constitutional, or two. Tonight isn't for his constitution. By the time Cameron reaches the door he's at the point of duetting with himself,

"I could have been someone-
Well so could anyone-
You took my dreams from me,
When I first found you-
I kept them with me babe,
I put them with my own,
Cant make it all alone,
I've built my dreams around you."

Though without the benefit of video, she's missing a very skilled attempt at air-violin.

☞ when you're living in a hallway that keeps growing

[as_damaged]

It's a sight she can do without. The realization comes too late that she doesn't have a plan for this; she only wanted to know whether he was here. It seems irresponsible to leave him to his melancholy liver damage, but considering the tone of the songs he's singing she hardly wants to intrude any further on his concert than the City already has.

If she can take his songs as an indication of his state of mind-- which seems like a reasonable working assumption-- then perhaps his selection reflects what's eating him up. It's an interesting theory, but one with little appeal. She doesn't want to know, not any more than she already does. And yet she can't imagine what would make her leave.

Shoes still in hand she stands there, leaning against the wall and wondering whether it would be worse to leave or to go further.

☞ when you're living in a hallway that keeps growing

[intheblanks]

Depending on how long she waits, she'll hear snatches that don't quite match the theme: he's still talking on the network, something that he's fairly sure is a bad idea, but what's a little humiliation among near total strangers.

It's only in the gaps between conversations that he seems to just be singing to himself. There's a different timbre.

"I've been working on a cocktail called "Grounds For Divorce