Work Text:
The walk to the bus shelter to his shared apartment would only take him a few minutes at best, but as the weather got worse with each passing second, Estes decided to wait at the shelter instead of running through the torrents. His boots would be soaked if he insisted on doing so, and he couldn’t really afford another earful from Esmeralda if he caught a cold.
Just his luck, but oh well. It is his own fault either way; Melissa did warn him about the incoming bad weather (with a high chance of a storm), but in the spur of the moment, he brushed aside her warning, as he was running late to their rehearsal.
And now, here he is standing, in a bus shelter with his keytar carried on his sore back. There is a man on the seat sleeping with his sleep mask covering his eyes, and an almost-soaked magazine tucked into his crossed arms in front of his chest.
There is no reason to rob the probably-weary man of his chance to rest, so Estes diverts his attention to his phone. He could stand and wait for the rain to pass. Melissa is probably doing her homework right now—damn, he kind of regretted not staying at the studio to have some valuable bonding moments with the other two.
But today is his good day, according to the horoscope reading Melissa read aloud as she barged into the studio. A fashion magazine giving out free horoscope reading, Estes chuckled at that—but he’s a big fan of divination. It’s great for wasting time if you truly believe in it, plus it wouldn’t hurt anyone.
So he decided to leave early and hope the horoscope was right.
And—as Melissa once put it into words, fuck around and find out, he did.
It’s bogus, and a massive time-waster, chasing after his supposed good-luck in this terrible weather. He’s lucky he hadn’t gotten sick yet. Whoever did the horoscope reading for that magazine is a talentless hack and they should be ashamed of themselves.
“What the fuck?”
Estes turned his head.
“What the fuck,” the man repeats, quickly patting the many pockets available on his multi-layered clothes. The magazine on his chest is crumpled up due to the immense pressure, seeing as it was crushed under his arms as he slept unperturbed before. There’s a yellow sticky note written in glittery, vibrant pink pen glued to the cover, and the man took great offense at said thing.
“That little shit.” he muttered to no one, his head hung low. He is pissed, but the display he is presenting right now is closer to shame than anger. “Damn it.”
“You okay?” Estes asked to him. His gaze is sharp, looks like the no-nonsense kind of guy—but the goofy sleep mask resting on his forehead does nothing to enforce said impression. He looks goofy now.
“You’ve been here long?”
“No, not really. Just arrived, I’m waiting for the rain. Did something happen?”
“Yeah. Did you see an elementary kid, lousy pigtails, about this tall—” he gestured with his hand, the same height as his knee, and continued, “With an ugly ass bagpack and, uh, kind of like. Rabbit-like shoes—ah, look, she looks obnoxious as all hell. Have you seen an obnoxious-looking little shit?”
Estes stifled a laughter. He still gave a man a polite smile. That’s certainly an impressive way to describe a child.
“Nope. You’re here alone by the time I arrived here. Why? Did something happen?”
“Yeah.” the man approached him, he is taller by three centimetres than Estes, slightly tanned skin and. Well, the way he dressed certainly gave an unforgettable impression, especially those clothes hanging on thin thread covering his broad chest. “Little shit stole my wallet.”
“Well, I’m sure that little shit got their reason.”
His eyes twitched with annoyance at Estes’s words, but he laughed.
“Yeah. The reason is because we both want to go home. Little shit didn’t wake me up and stole my fucking wallet instead.”
“Ah, is that so….” Estes smiled, the man is certainly funny in his own way. He’s cute. “Well, no use crying over spilled milk. I’m sure you can ask them for your wallet back later. I’m Estes, by the way.”
Fredrinn begrudgingly took his hand in a handshake and said, “Fredrinn.”
“Have some spare change you can use to get on the next bus?”
“No, why?” Fredrinn raised his hand, understood what Estes was trying to do. “No, it’s fine. I can walk back when the rain stops. I don’t need your help.”
“You sure? Where do you live?”
“About six blocks from here. Near that new Vietnam restaurant.”
“Vietnam restaurant… huh.” He turned his head to see a bus heading toward the shelter. Estes should get on board this bus, but he stares at Fredrinn, still not wanting to end this encounter due to his own amusement towards the grumpy man. “Well, I don’t mind a detour. Let’s go to that Vietnam restaurant. I heard it’s to die for.”
“God, you don’t need to help me. I’m fine.”
“I know.” He waved his hand at the driver, giving the man a sheepish smile as the door closed and it strode off into the horizon without him. “I just think you’re interesting, Fredrinn. According to someone very dear to me, today is my lucky day. You see—our meeting here must be it. Fate, perchance.”
Fredrinn scoffed.
“Superstitious much?”
“Maybe you can change my mind. For better or worse.”
“...I don’t have my wallet with me, though.” His eyes stare at the keytar case Estes bagged on his back. “Also, that looks heavy. You sure you want to walk six blocks with a stranger like me carrying that shit? You can get on the bus, y’know.”
“I’m a good judge of character. I think you harbor no ill-intentions toward me. Also, don’t worry about our spendings at the restaurant later.”
“Oh, you’re treating me, a stranger—”
“Nothing is free in this dog-eat-dog world, Fredrinn.”
With a wide grin, he handed over his keytar to Fredrinn.
“Thank you for your service.”
“...man.”
Estes once again looks at the man. He looks perfect carrying that bag. It fits his build and posture. Maybe Estes is looking way too much into it—he looks like he could be a part of their band... maybe in another place, another time, he is a part of their band.
“Don’t worry, we won’t be walking. I have enough money to fund our expenses, unlike you.”
“...what a piece of shit.”
He chuckles anyway, waiting for the bus.
“That’s your way to talk to a stranger who’s been so kind to help you out?”
“You’re lucky you’re hot.”
“...so are you.”
“....”
“...huh.”