Where has that old friend gone?

[chesspolitik]

Contrary to popular belief, Anatoly did do things besides play chess and talk to other people besides Lex. On this fine Wednesday he was situated at the Jazz Club, happily watching Roger perform. The music wasn't quite his cup of tea if he was honest, but he was well aware his tastes were horrible old-fashioned and behind the times. Still, he was coming to find that it was growing on him. Another few visits and he just might fall under the seductive sway yet. In any case, his friend was a consummate showman and that was reason alone to watch.

When the set was over, he applauded enthusiastically. After giving Roger a few moments to recover and wind down, he made his way over to him, glass in hand. "That was amazing," he said. "As always."

Comments

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Roger was feeling mellow that night, so he did a set in a stool with his acoustic. He had a headache, that night, but a headache he sorta forgot about for the 45 minutes he was on stage. The tempo stayed up, save for a few requests, but part of Roger really just wanted to go home and go to sleep and forget a large part of his Goddamn life.

And then Anatoly was walking toward him. Some days, he knew he shouls just stop talking to the other man altogether because talking to him and knowing that they'd never be anything was just the kind of torture Roger would inflict on himself. Were he a healthier man with a healthier attitude, maybe he would have just walked by months ago.

"Thanks, Anatoly," Roger said, beaming with a kind of pride that can only be accomplished through covetousness. He began to pack his guitar away with the ease of a repeated task and the care of a prized possession.

[chesspolitik]

If Anatoly had been more aware of things, he might have caught on to Roger's feelings and removed himself from the situation. Complications like that never went well, and in his mind, it was far better to escape than deal with the emotional repercussions. But foresight when it came to people was not one of his strengths, and even if it was, he'd struggled over his attraction to Lex and come to the conclusion he'd been extremely lucky that it turned out mutual. Other men finding him attractive just simply wasn't going to happen.

So here he was, enjoying the concept of spending time with a friend who wouldn't inform on him and who understood what it was to have an all-consuming passion in the bargain.

"You make it look so easy, which only tells me how much it isn't. I have to admire that."

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Anatoly's inevitable removal from the situation was part of what kept Roger silent. At that point, Roger figured it was better to have Anatoly around and silently pine for him than the alternative, since being with him was so very much not an option.

"You know how it is," Roger said, smiling a bit because he really did. "It's like you and chess. When you play..." Roger swallowed over that. He'd only seen Anatoly play once, but it was like a man not petrified, but complete. He figured the move of the pieces was the same as the swipe of a pick over nickel-plated strings.

"Anyway, uh, thanks." Smooth, Davis.

[chesspolitik]

Anatoly smiled widely, thinking it was a very apt comparison. "I feel alive and that everything's right in the world. Sometimes, I feel like it's the only time everything makes sense, you know?"

He took a sip of his vodka and said nothing further for the moment, not wanting to distract Roger from the important business of getting his guitar stowed away.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Roger smiled. He did know, and more than that, it was the only time he felt he knew anything. People could talk about the future, the past, truth, and consequences and none of it made any sense to Roger, but when he sat down with his guitar, he was suddenly an expert or a saint or a god. When he was behind his guitar, Roger could be anyone he wanted to be.

By the time he'd straightened, he got some of his bearings, swallowing hard before he spoke. "So, uh, where's Lex tonight?"

[chesspolitik]

"Upstairs talking to Helen," Anatoly answered, a bit of fondness in his voice. "I imagine they'll be up there for awhile - if it's not her he's talking to, it's someone else. I swear he knows everyone here."

Anatoly valued his private life intensely so it was hard for him to understand Lex's need to be a social butterfly. But as long as he wasn't expected to join Lex on every occasion, it was something he could live with.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

"Why aren't you with him?" He didn't mean to ask the question, but sometimes, Roger swore they... had something. Often times, Anatoly came to Roger's shows alone and did that mean Lex wasn't fond of him? Or did that mean that Anatoly wanted to be alone with him?

[chesspolitik]

Anatoly blinked at Roger, taken aback by the question. "Because I wanted to see you," he answered honestly, not thinking for a moment how it might sound or even why it might matter. "Is that wrong?"

[one--song.livejournal.com]

That look of confusion and a certain kind of betrayal made Roger step back and he flicked his eyes up to Anatoly's.

"No. It's not. M'glad you're here," he said, and he remembered that Anatoly rarely missed a show. "Let me get you a drink."

[chesspolitik]

"I would love one, thank you." Anatoly finished the rest of his drink then set the empty glass down.

He glanced at Roger, still confused on why it mattered whether Lex was there or not. Whether he was upstairs talking to Helen or out attempting to bond with Kon, it had no bearing on what Anatoly did, nor should it, he thought.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Roger returned with a vodka for Anatoly and a beer for himself moments later, having taken a second to talk to the bartender, as was customary. He was just happy the Willows Room was up and running again, even if it meant it was without Warrick. But hell, Roger had lost so many people, Warrick was almost just another brick in the memorial wall.

"Here." he extended it like a peace offering.

[chesspolitik]

"Thank you," Anatoly said with a warm smile as he accepted the drink. He took a deep drink from his glass, savoring the taste. What he would do when the vodka ran out, he didn't want to contemplate.

He was quiet for a few moments, enjoying both the vodka and companionship. It was easy, almost relaxing just being around Roger, even if he didn't always know how respond to him. "So, how have you been?"