RP: Karaoke Night!
Date: February 12th, 2011
Characters: Brendon Collins, Everyone who comes out!
Location: The Hawthorne
Status: Public
Summary: It's karaoke night at the Hawthorne. It's also a night to remember (literally) for Brendon (R-ish for his thoughts/experiences).
Completion: Complete
Specials: 2-4-1 drink specials & $2 off appetizers!
Brendon was stuck. Well and truly stuck.
Courtney had called in at the last minute because she had come down with the flu and couldn't make it. The flu of all bloody things.
So there he was, working on what should be his day off.
He loved his work, he did.
What he didn't love was singing. The drunken singing brought back some of the worst memories from growing up. Memories he truly and desperately wanted to hide away to the depths of his subconscious. Never to think about ever again.
He could hide away in the office but karaoke nights were their busier nights and they could use all the help they could get.
It was after a particularly horrible rendition of the Beatles 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds' from a group of drunken men and women that Brendon felt a pounding form right behind his left eyeball. He winced and rubbed his closed eyes, willing it to go away. When it didn't, he motioned over to Owen, one of the other bartenders, that he was going to step away for a minute.
He turned away from the bar and made his way to the office, shutting the door behind him. Brendon leaned against the closed door with his forehead resting on his arm.
Fucking hell.
With his eyes tightly squeezed shut and breathing in and out deeply, images and sounds made their way through his head.
Drunken singing, fires, dancing, laughing, moans, groans, yelling, screaming, sneers and the overwhelming smell of pot and sex. It was all coming back.
Brendon desperately tried to will it away again but a pair of piercing blue eyes remained stubborn. Alex's. The man he had met a couple of weeks ago.
No, his mind screamed. Not, a couple of weeks ago. A long time ago. The image of Alex he had in his mind suddenly reverted to a young boy who he remembered had the same piercing blue eyes that could reach into a persons soul.
A boy Brendon had left behind when he ran away.
A boy that Brendon had always taken under his wing.
The boy who Brendon never wanted to leave behind. But -- Brendon, hadn't been the best role model; now and then. Especially then.
Fuck.
Alex fucking Jameson.
Fuck.
He breathed in deeply and slowly pulled his head away from his arm. He really needed a drink right now. It had been a long time since he thought about that time period. Not since he had told the old man Hawthorne about his past.
Brendon stumbled away from the door and made his way to his desk. Pulling open the bottom drawer, he took out the bottle of scotch, opened it and took a pull straight from the bottle. He sat heavily in the chair with the bottle resting on his thigh.
Fuck.
Characters: Brendon Collins, Everyone who comes out!
Location: The Hawthorne
Status: Public
Summary: It's karaoke night at the Hawthorne. It's also a night to remember (literally) for Brendon (R-ish for his thoughts/experiences).
Completion: Complete
Specials: 2-4-1 drink specials & $2 off appetizers!
Brendon was stuck. Well and truly stuck.
Courtney had called in at the last minute because she had come down with the flu and couldn't make it. The flu of all bloody things.
So there he was, working on what should be his day off.
He loved his work, he did.
What he didn't love was singing. The drunken singing brought back some of the worst memories from growing up. Memories he truly and desperately wanted to hide away to the depths of his subconscious. Never to think about ever again.
He could hide away in the office but karaoke nights were their busier nights and they could use all the help they could get.
It was after a particularly horrible rendition of the Beatles 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds' from a group of drunken men and women that Brendon felt a pounding form right behind his left eyeball. He winced and rubbed his closed eyes, willing it to go away. When it didn't, he motioned over to Owen, one of the other bartenders, that he was going to step away for a minute.
He turned away from the bar and made his way to the office, shutting the door behind him. Brendon leaned against the closed door with his forehead resting on his arm.
Fucking hell.
With his eyes tightly squeezed shut and breathing in and out deeply, images and sounds made their way through his head.
Drunken singing, fires, dancing, laughing, moans, groans, yelling, screaming, sneers and the overwhelming smell of pot and sex. It was all coming back.
Brendon desperately tried to will it away again but a pair of piercing blue eyes remained stubborn. Alex's. The man he had met a couple of weeks ago.
No, his mind screamed. Not, a couple of weeks ago. A long time ago. The image of Alex he had in his mind suddenly reverted to a young boy who he remembered had the same piercing blue eyes that could reach into a persons soul.
A boy Brendon had left behind when he ran away.
A boy that Brendon had always taken under his wing.
The boy who Brendon never wanted to leave behind. But -- Brendon, hadn't been the best role model; now and then. Especially then.
Fuck.
Alex fucking Jameson.
Fuck.
He breathed in deeply and slowly pulled his head away from his arm. He really needed a drink right now. It had been a long time since he thought about that time period. Not since he had told the old man Hawthorne about his past.
Brendon stumbled away from the door and made his way to his desk. Pulling open the bottom drawer, he took out the bottle of scotch, opened it and took a pull straight from the bottle. He sat heavily in the chair with the bottle resting on his thigh.
Fuck.