Post by Razza on Nov 19, 2019 1:24:21 GMT -5
E M M E T T
What the fuck am I doing? Emmett thought to himself, squinting up through the waning evening sun to peer above the door. The name of the bar and grill he was currently stood outside of was plastered there, bold and plain to see, though not a letter of it made any sense to him no matter how hard he stared. They were unreadable, ancient hieroglyphs for all he knew, wisely advising against everything he was about to do. Emmett tore his gaze away and wiped his sweaty palms against his jeans. Nah, he just needed to calm down, right?
The twangy, metallic sound of a guitar solo gently poured out from the joint, unrecognizable to Emmett and yet enticingly familiar all the same. If he were in any other town under any other circumstance he would've been flying through the door already, pumped to down a couple pints of whatever was on tap, maybe flirt with the bartender if they were cute, and then head back to his car to pass out once closing time came around. Instead he was quivering in place on the sidewalk like a scared Chihuahua, probably looking one loud noise away from running for the hills or maybe shitting his pants. It wasn't too far off really - he could physically feel the thudding of his heart against his chest.
It was rustic here. Cozy. One of his more favorite places he's seen of Aurora Creek the second time around. And the hardest part of it all was that it was so easy for him to see Nyx working here... which apparently she did.
With a finally shaky breath he stumbled forward, catching one more glimpse of this place's name. The Final Round.
The door swung open to reveal the on-theme interior and music that flowed clearly out of unseen speakers. Besides himself there were only a few other pockets of people hanging around as far as he could see, probably too mid-week to really draw a crowd, he guessed, and nobody even bothered to look up at the sound of his entrance. Hmph. Well, it was comforting in a way, and a relief as well that nothing so far looked familiar. No spiky hair or silver eyes. Everything was fine.
When he wasn't immediately greeted by anyone Emmett just let himself in, not knowing or caring really if he should wait to be seated. He just picked the most non-threatening booth he could find - tucked near the door but also by a window - and fell down into it unceremoniously. The smell of something delicious cooking caught his nose and made his stomach ache even worse. "Fuck," Emmett muttered, tilting his head back to look at the plain ceiling. He ran one hand down his face, scratched through his scruff, and then suddenly straightened up, rolling back his shoulders.
"It's probably not even her shift right now, Em," he tried to convince himself quietly, shrugging with nonchalance. His fingers fiddled with the bent corner of one of the place mats on the table and he feigned totally cool collectedness while reading what was printed on it, making faces that totally weren't weird or telling of his nerves. Like maybe if he played the part it'd start manifesting in real life. His eyes flitted around the room, just taking everything in. "Or maybe she quit. Where's a damn server, anyway?"
After a moment he pulled his phone out of his pocket, setting it on the slightly sticky wooden surface. He hesitated after spotting his contacts app, and then frantically turned the thing back off and shoved it back in his jeans, not even in the span of ten seconds. "God, this is so stupid," he continued to mutter to himself, bringing up his elbows to the table and dropping his head in his hands like the hot fucking mess he was. If nothing happened after exactly 1 minute, he was gone. Em started counting down at once.
Notes: yet another