(Untitled)

[mounties_rock]

WHO:Canada, Norway
WHEN: 6/9 Evening
WHERE:A sports bar
WHAT: STANLEY CUP

Matthew walked into the bar filled with excitement. It was crowded, people everywhere at the bar and at tables. Almost every screen was on the same game. The Flyers vs the Blackhawks.

Comments

CREATIVELY, SINDRE'S EXCUSE IS THE SAME AS MINE

[talks_to_nisse]

Sindre was going to *kill* Madame Maime. He had the night off. He had always had the night off--this wasn't one of the nights he recently switched. And yet that woman had still managed to forget and called him in to do paperwork that did not need to be done immediately. Which, of course, the Madame just could not handle doing herself.

To make everything worse, he had forgotten his phone, and poor Matthew had been waiting ages for him. He finally spotted the boy at a table with a good view of the television and turned to the tv to check the score and time. Fuck. Halfway through the second, and down by one with the Flyers on a power play. Right as he came up right behind Matthew, the Blackhawks scored and he couldn't stop himself from letting out a whoop of excitement.

The younger man startled and whipped around to stare at him. Sindre smiled sheepishly as he took a seat. "Madame Maime," he said by way of explanation. "What have I missed?"

[mounties_rock]

When the Flyers got a powerplay the last thing Matt expected was the the Hawks to score, and yet they did! He couldn't help but shout a "Take that Philly!" He couldn't believe the hawks had just scored, except that he could and he was excited. This could really be the game

[talks_to_nisse]

"Yeah," he responded, "she called me in. Forgot my phone, otherwise I would have let you know and had you send me updates

[mounties_rock]

Matthew simply nodded in agreement. He couldn't even think of what to say. He was so nervous about the game that he was getting a stomach ache. If the Hawks lost this game then the next game would be a battle royale. Except, with only two combatants. Each fighting for their lives. While he was sure the Hawks would have been even happier to win at home in Chicago, it would have been an intense fight. The seventh game always sucked

[talks_to_nisse]

Sindre couldn't help but laugh at the younger boy's exuberance even as he began cheering himself. Sometimes Sindre forgot that Matthew was only one year older than his brother, and sometimes he made it quite clear. He hugged the boy back as he about jumped on him, grinning as the players on-screen tried and failed to articulate how amazing the victory felt. That, he thought, was the best moment of every series.

"After party?" he parroted back, "of course! Your place?" Valdi probably wouldn't want the two of the barging obnoxiously into the apartment, and while his brother was likely aware that Sindre had indeed drunk alcohol at some point in his life, he did not feel comfortable doing so in front of him.

Matthew was nineteen, wasn't he. Well, Sindre could take care of getting the alcohol--he did enough teen drinking to not be able to say much at all if Matthew drank. If he could get Matthew's address, he could stop by and pick up some supplies before he made it over. "Shall we?"