Who: Bret, Gob, anyone who happens by
What: Hanging around the tavern
Where: The Stoat
When: Sunday night
Bret was beginning to run out of money. He couldn't really bring himself to perform out on the streets after what had happened, but with the tavern reopened he really didn't have an excuse to hide away anymore. Especially considering he didn't feel right mooching off of Cho after...what happened.
What had happened?
Well, nothing, really. It felt like something but, really, nothing happened. And considering everything else that had happened lately, it was probably even less than nothing. Insignificant, in comparison. He wished he could just forget it. Move on. Suck it up, be a man.
He got up and performed, as if it was just any other night, and he got more or less the same reaction as always. He glanced at his journal, at the song Cherry had sent him. He really should have played it. But he just didn't have it in him.
He got off the stage and headed to the bar. Knowing better than to get near alcohol so quickly after last time, he flagged Wendy down and ordered some juice.