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Grian had always considered himself to be a reasonable man. And he was—when the world around him decided to act reasonable.
When it didn’t, however, and chose to be completely absurd, ridiculous, and downright irritating, that was when Grian might have gotten a bit of a temper.
He knew full well he had a bit of a history with making impulsive, reckless decisions in the heat of the moment. The consequences of his actions always caught up to him eventually, as fast as he ran from them like he was the first one to die in a horror movie, and he’d gotten many a lecture in his lifetime from his friends and family after he did something stupid because of a bad decision.
So tonight, when he was feeling incredibly spiteful to the world and could sense he was in danger of one of those lapses in judgement, he made the reasonable decision to not do something stupid, and surround himself with strangers so he would have no opportunity to do something dumb.
It was a smart choice. Thinking proactively for once. Proof he was reasonable.
And if he just so happened to decide he needed a drink to calm himself down and not be so hot-headed, that was also reasonable. He didn’t plan on getting completely drunk—funnily enough, he was self-aware enough to know that would end up making his situation worse—but just have a couple of drinks to hopefully mellow the raging fire of fury burning in his chest.
So that was where he found himself as the moon shone faint light onto the city streets paled by the bright neons of streetlights and late night signs glowing in the darkness. The chatter of the bar washed over and around him like sea foam, all around but not affecting him, as he stared into his half-full glass, elbows on the bar which had long since warmed from his body heat, and glowered silently like it had caused him personal harm.
He had planned to sit like that for the rest of the night until sleep tugged at his eyelids and he wandered home. He took a sip from his drink every so often, slow enough it was only his second one of the evening, and he planned for it to be his last. He didn’t want to get too drunk, after all, just wanted to feel the tipsy buzz enough that he wouldn’t attempt something stupid.
His plans were interrupted, however, when the constantly moving scenery around him broke apart from background noise into the foreground, and someone slipped smoothly onto the empty bar stool beside him.
Grian looked up in surprise, and saw a handsome stranger giving him a wide grin that seemed far too bright for this late at night. The man beside him was tall as he’d gathered from the few moments before they dropped to mostly equal height from the stools. The dark lighting made his features a little difficult to make out, but Grian could see green eyes that sparkled like emeralds, dark brown hair, a handsome face covered in scars and a sharp smile that was far too enthusiastic for how he felt right now. His ears shone slightly with several golden piercings in each ear.
He was quite attractive, and Grian was well prepared to shoot him down if he got hit on because he was not in the mood for flirting with strangers right now, but the man’s smile didn’t seem flirtatious. It was weirdly joyful, like he was happy just for seeing Grian—which didn’t make sense, considering the two had never met.
“Why hello there, my dear fellow,” the man said, in a compelling voice that reminded Grian of a ringleader at a circus. Loud and confident and just for show.
Grian looked the man up and down, not fully sure why he had chosen to sit beside him. He seemed overly friendly, and didn’t seem to notice Grian’s general antisocial energy at the moment. He wore an orange tank top and denim jorts that clashed horribly and looked like he’d thrown on the first two pieces of clothing he’d seen without any thought for style or the cool weather. He managed to pull it off though, somehow, and at least his black sneakers were normal, if one of his socks looked like a different shade than the other but it was difficult to tell in the lighting.
“…Hi,” Grian eventually said after the man kept staring at him with that smile, waiting for him to respond. It was a little creepy.
Unfortunately, the man’s smile grew even wider when he responded, and he seemed even more social now. Great. “What’s such a charming man such as yourself doing all alone on a night like this?” the man asked, leaning forward and making Grian shuffle away a little. “I saw you looking all down in the dumps by yourself, looking into your drink, and I thought I could be of some help. Bad day?”
This man really wasn’t going to go away, was he? Grian sighed as he resigned himself to having a conversation with this overenthusiastic stranger, and decided it would be okay to get it all off his chest, at least.
“You could say that,” he grumbled, gaze drifting down to his drink again. He took a swig, wiping his mouth as he brought the glass away from his lips and put it back on the bar perhaps a bit harder than necessary. “This is why I’m not in customer service. People can be so irritating and just completely idiotic.”
The stranger gasped, like he was genuinely shocked at Grian’s words. Grian would’ve thought he was being made fun of but this man seemed incapable of being sarcastic. It was weird.
“Oh, no,” the man said. “A bad customer?”
Grian nodded. “The worst,” he agreed.
“Well, that just sounds terrible,” the man said, as if he was legitimately sympathetic. “I’m sure that must be awful. Please, tell me all about it. Oh, and by the way, before I forget, could I have your name?”
“Call me Grian,” the shorter man said, holding a hand out for the other to shake. The stranger looked almost disappointed or even annoyed at that answer, but he shook Grian’s hand with a smile.
“Great, great. Now, please, Grian, tell me all about this awful customer of yours.”
Grian nodded, and let the story and his frustration flow out of him. “I’m an architect, see? I do design stuff, but not as often as most people would expect when they think of an architect. It’s only part time, I do it on the holidays when I don’t have any classes to teach because I feel like I always need to be doing something—my cousin Pearl says I’m a workaholic, but—Anyway, not the point. I used to work for this big contracting company, but then it got really stifling and I became a professor instead because it felt like a better option. That’s been great, but then I’d get bored doing nothing over the holidays, so I decided to try do some freelance. Working for myself, you know? The pay’s less, but I’m happier, so I’ll take the freedom. Usually, that means I can control more stuff about how and when I work. Except for today.
“I got this new client last week, nothing special, just wanted me to show them some designs for a small residential place. Just your average stuff, I came up with some designs, looked into the place, tried to make the best for the client. I showed it all to them, they didn’t really like any of it, and after a while of back and forth we both decided they would go looking elsewhere. Again, I was fine with that. I couldn’t give them what they wanted, I’m okay with that, not everything I make is for everyone. That’s fine. But when I tried to contact them about my payment, they ghosted me. I tried contacting them for days, emails, messages, calls, nothing. Then when I finally managed to reach them today, they got really snappy at me and said something about how because they didn’t use any of my designs, they weren’t going to pay me for it.”
“Oh no,” the stranger gasped. “That’s awful. Not paying you for your work? That is horribly impolite. And unprofessional.”
Grian nodded, feeling the frustration bubble up. “Exactly! And it sucks because I spent a week working on those. I always try to give my best to my clients, and it’s fine if they don’t like that, it’s nothing personal. But when they refuse to pay me, that’s just—it’s annoying as heck, but they won’t respond to me, and I don’t have the sort of money for a lawyer or anything. It’s a week’s worth of work, and it sucks that it’s gone down the drain, but I’ll make up for it eventually. It still sucks, though.”
“That it does,” the other man nodded. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Grian declined with a shake of his head. “No thanks, this is my last one for the night.”
The other looked faintly disappointed again, but nodded. “You know, it’s funny you say that,” he started, voice gaining more of that dramatic showman quality again. He puffed up a little, and said, “I just so happen to be a practitioner of law, myself.”
Grian quirked a brow at the other in surprise and suspicion. “Really?” he asked, and the other nodded.
“Oh, absolutely,” he said with a straight face, and Grian couldn’t tell if he was telling the truth or not. “Went to law school and everything. I’d be happy to help you out with your whole bad client situation. We could do something about it.”
Grian couldn’t help but treat the offer with suspicion. He wasn’t sure if the other was outright lying, but there was just something so… off, about the man, from his overeager personality to the gold rings in his slightly pointed ears, and he made sure to remain cautious about it all.
“A lawyer, huh? What do you charge?” he asked, one hand clutching his glass perhaps a little tighter than necessary.
The smile on the other’s pretty scarred face sharpened just a little. “Oh, nothing much… Just your first born child,” the stranger said with a wave of his hand, emerald green eyes sharp.
Grian wasn’t sure whether to laugh or run. “…Right,” he answered instead, deciding the former, and a small chuckle escaped him without permission. “You know, you’re kind of funny. It’s been nice talking to you.”
He glanced at his watch, and noted the time. “Unfortunately, I think I’ll have to call it a night there,” he sighed, and drained the last of his drink. The other watched him carefully as he put the empty glass down on the bar and called over a bartender to pay for his drinks. “It’s been nice chatting with you, though,” Grian said, somewhat meaning it as the bartender returned his card and said he was good to go.
He stood up, and the other man copied him. “Let me walk you out,” he insisted, and Grian couldn’t really be bothered to tell him no, so he let the taller man walk beside him as they left the bar.
The man held the door open for him, and Grian nodded a wordless thanks. Something in those green eyes tightened again, but just like before it was gone in an instant, and Grian pushed it off as a trick of the light. His eyes did funny things in the light. They were always sparkling and shining like a gemstone, even in low light.
The night air outside was cleaner and refreshing, even if it was a bit too on the cold side and Grian tugged his jumper on a little tighter. “I’m going to head home now,” he told the other, honestly just wanting to be in his warm, comfortable bed and away from this weird man and his suspicious claims about being a lawyer. “Have a nice night.”
“You too,” the stranger said, and there was something in his emerald green eyes that Grian couldn’t place. They sparkled more than they seemed like they should have in the street lights.
Grian half turned away, before he paused. He turned back around, and looked at the tall stranger with his long messy dark brown hair, his sparkling, strange green eyes, his clashing clothes too light for the cool weather, the golden earrings shining in his almost pointed ears, the smile on his face marred by scars that covered the rest of his body.
“I never got your name,” Grian realised aloud.
The man smiled. “I know,” he replied simply. He tilted his head to the architect, and said, “I’ll see you later, Grian.”
The words had less the tone of a farewell, and more of a promise. Grian opened his mouth to reply, but then he blinked, and—
The stranger was gone, leaving him sitting alone in an empty street. He paused, unsure what to do. After a moment he started his slow walk home, wondering in the back of his mind if he’d imagined the whole thing.