Gilbert ran after his companion. He had a feeling that Roderich would get lost in Berlin if he was left unattended, but that wasn't why he followed. What was running through his mind? Was he okay? Gilbert was only beginning to process Frida's remarks, so he had no idea what Roderich was thinking in the moment.

Fortunately, Roderich hadn't gone far. Gilbert spotted his purple coat just down the street, so he ran. It didn't take him long, save for bumping into a few pedestrians, to catch up to him. He put a hand on his shoulder and forced him to turn around.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Roderich looked rather stunned to see him, and blinked before answering. "Yes."

"Okay, because…" Gilbert frowned. "You didn't seem like it."

He paused for a moment, looking around at the cityscape for answers, and sighed. "I just… I did not appreciate the way she was speaking to either of us."

"Yeah, me either."

The two men looked at the ground silently for a moment. Frida's words about his grandfather continued to loop in his mind. He felt so exposed by her snooping. The nerve she had to just… bring any of that up. Like she or any other Berliner didn't have dead relatives who were Nazis. And maybe Gilbert's grandfather was particularly fixed in his radical, ridiculous beliefs, but Gilbert didn't understand why she felt the need to bring any of it up.

Gilbert saw Roderich look up in his peripheral vision. "Gilbert." He said.

He looked up in turn, and Roderich glanced to the side. "Yeah?"

"I'm very sorry I dragged you into this." He seemed unable to make eye contact, but Gilbert was surprised at the genuine nature of his words nonetheless.

"Hey, I mean, you didn't know she was going to… be like that." He shrugged and placed a hand on Roderich's arm for only a second. "None of that was your fault."

"Perhaps not," He said, still looking away. "But I am sorry nonetheless."

There was another minute or so of shared silence. Gilbert desperately wanted to make the situation better, but didn't know where to begin. He was still dwelling on Frida, and knew that Roderich must be too. Finally, he made a decision.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"What?" Roderich asked, turning to him and looking quite confused.

"I mean… that's what I do when somebody pisses me off." He let a small smile escape, feeling one corner of his mouth tighten.

Roderich looked contemplative for a moment. "Sure." He smiled in return.

Gilbert suddenly felt a hand on his back. He stiffened, and turned to see Elizabeta, out of breath.

"Roderich." She said, panting slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't… I didn't know that…"

He put his hands behind his back. "Don't hold yourself responsible. That is not the fault of any of us."

"You're right…" she said, standing up straight, and turned to Gilbert. "I'm sorry that… any of that happened, Gilbert. That's not how those things are supposed to go. Especially with a place like DerKlatschTratsch."

Gilbert laughed. "I guessed that."

Elizabeta seemed relieved at his attitude, and moved her hand to his shoulder. "I'm going to go… sort things out!" She smiled a fake smile. "But you know that neither of you have to go back in there, I'll take care of it."

"Is the car still here?" Roderich asked, leaning forward.

Elizabeta turned to look back in the direction they came from, craning her neck to see the car. "It should be. I asked the driver to wait for us."

"Wonderful," Roderich said, heading back towards the car. "Text me when everything is settled. I'll have him come back to pick you up."

She laughed, apparently finding his request ridiculous. "And where are you going?"

He turned back and looked Gilbert in the eye. "We're going to get a drink."

Roderich paid the driver a second time. Gilbert held the door open for him, following him inside the building. "Welcome to Der Freischütz," Gilbert said proudly. He was pretty proud of this place. He knew he had put a lot of work into it, not only behind the bar, but into the various remodeling projects that he and Holger had come up with.

"Thank you, sir," Roderich said as he looked around. Gilbert smiled as he took in the dark floors and matching tables, the walls covered in concert posters, and the huge wooden bar with dozens of taps. "You know, Der Freischütz is one of my favorite operas," he commented with a smile. Gilbert was physically taken back. Holger had named his establishment after an opera? He had never bothered to ask about the name before, he just thought it sounded cool. He decided not to ask any questions when Roderich continued. "You work here?"

Gilbert laughed. "Yeah, was it not what you expected?" He felt quite a bit more like himself than he did during the interview.

Roderich grinned. "I don't know what I was expecting, but it is very nice. Cozy. A bit like a Kaffeehaus."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows and looked around like he was seeing this place for the first time. "I never thought of it that way, but, yeah, I guess so!"

"Gilbert!" a voice called to him. He turned and saw Holger, waving him down from the bar. He approached, hoping that Roderich would follow.

"Hey, how's the rush today?" He asked, leaning onto the counter.

"Could be worse…" he trailed off, a grin spreading wide across his face as he caught sight of Roderich. "Well, is this him!" It wasn't quite a question.

Gilbert snorted quietly. "Yeah, Holger, this is Roderich. Roderich, this is the owner of Der Freischütz."

"And his boss! He forgets that!" Holger laughed and reached across the counter, his rolled up sleeve catching on a tap for a moment.

Roderich politely reached out and shook his hand. "It's great to meet you."

Holger looked around for a moment. "Hey, we don't have anybody at the moment, mind if I grab the others? Everyone's real excited to meet you."

Roderich blinked in surprise and smiled politely. "Oh, sure."

"Great, wait here!" Holger slammed a hand onto the counter in eagerness. He turned and pushed open the door to the kitchen. His voice was muffled, but his words discernable. "Hey guys! Gilbert's here, he brought his boyfriend!"

Gilbert winced, feeling like a tub of embarrassment had just been dumped on him and was dripping onto the floor. "Um, I never said th…"

Roderich laughed, which stunned Gilbert more than Holger's remark. "It's quite alright."

Moments later, Holger bounded from the kitchen with a small crowd behind him. Markus and a few other familiar faces trailed behind, all of them varying degrees of surprised. Markus especially so, his eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth pointed downward.

"Hey, everyone, this is Roderich," Gilbert said, feeling an urge to put a hand on Roderich's back or shoulder but resisting it. He took the hand and pointed at each individual person instead. "This is Markus, Fatima, Derrick, and Josef."

There was a semi-awkward chorus of "hellos" as everyone reached over the counter to shake Roderich's hand. Gilbert hoped this wasn't too weird, but these people were his friends and coworkers; Roderich would have to meet them eventually.

Daylight streaked across the bartop as the door to the restaurant opened behind them. "Markus," a woman's voice called. Everyone turned to see a young woman approaching the crowd. She placed her purse on an empty table nearest the counter, and took a seat in front of Holger. She was much shorter than the rest of them, and several years younger than everyone except Markus. Her eyes scanned the crowd as she spoke. "Hey, your mom wants us to go to dinner with her tonight, so…" her eyes looked upwards at Gilbert, and then just to the left of him at Roderich. "Oh my god!" she said rather loudly, her eyes beaming as a hand flew up to cover her mouth.

Gilbert laughed. "Nora, this is Roderich."

"Oh my god!" She said again, hiding her face. "Hi!"

Roderich smiled politely; Gilbert thought he was probably quite used to this behavior. "Hello, Nora, nice to meet you."

"Oh my god, hi," she laughed, holding her hand out nervously. "Wow, sorry, I just…"

Roderich shook her hand once before wrapping his hands around it. "No, you're fine. It's a pleasure to meet you, really."

Nora blinked, a smile permanently glued onto her face. "Oh my god!" She exclaimed again. "Sorry! I… it's you!"

By this time, nearly everyone had gone back to the kitchen, deciding to give Nora her moment. Gilbert glanced over at Markus, who was red in the face. Gilbert thought he was probably thinking of Nora's life-long crush on Roderich, and how she looked like a teenager fangirling over her idol.

Roderich laughed, squeezing her hand. "No need to apologize, I'm quite flattered. I always enjoy meeting fans."

"Oh my god, I've been a huge fan for… years." She looked up and around, barely able to contain herself. "I bought a poster at your first concert in Leipzig and it's just. One of my favorite things. Oh my god. Could I… sorry, this is probably rude, could I have a picture with you?"

Roderich shook his head. "Not at all rude, absolutely."

Nora glanced up. "Gil, could you…"

He laughed, secretly glad that he was able to make this happen. "Sure." He took her phone out of her shaking hands, opening the camera.

Roderich held out a hand to her, ushering her closer until their hips were touching and his arm was wrapped comfortably around her shoulder. Gilbert frowned as he took a series of pictures. Roderich hadn't even attempted to get that close to him, his soulmate, but was perfectly comfortable doing whatever one of his adoring fans asked of him.

"Thanks, Gil," she said, ripping the phone out of his hands. She looked back up at Roderich. "And thank you, oh my god." She put a hand on her forehead. "I'm so embarrassed. I just. I love your music."

"And thank you for listening!" He said with a smile. This Roderich was yet another person that Gilbert hadn't met. How many personalities could one man have?

After a few more words that Gilbert was no longer paying attention to, Nora turned back to her boyfriend and began discussing evening plans. Roderich turned back to Gilbert and shifted into a more familiar tone of voice. "So, drinks?"

Gilbert frowned, trying not to dwell on the past few moments any more than he had dwelled on Frida's words. "Yeah, uh… what kind of beers do you like?"

"I like dark beers, but I'll try anything once." He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Just something dark that's on tap."

Feeling much more relieved, Gilbert let a smile show. "Something we both agree on." He turned to Holger, who was already working on glasses for the two of them. He passed the two over the counter, and Gilbert handed one carefully to Roderich. Their fingers barely grazed over each other as Roderich took the glass and led the pair to a table a few feet from the bar.

They each took a minute to sit, Roderich shedding his coat and putting it over the back of the chair. The two men silently leaned back into their seats before sighing and taking sips of their drinks. A moment or two passed before either of them spoke.

"It's quite good." Roderich said, sounding pretty satisfied. "I'm assuming it's local?"

Gilbert nodded as he sipped from his glass. "Yeah, Holger's brother actually brews this. I forgot what he calls it, something like Wintervogel?"

"Interesting." He mused, setting his glass on the table.

This was the most casual conversation they had ever shared, Gilbert thought. He wasn't sure if this was the same Roderich from Nollendorfplatz, the museum, from the interview, or from Nora's photo. He enjoyed his company when he knew who he was, but the last few hours had been so up and down that Gilbert scarcely knew himself. He didn't know how to bring this up, either. Clearly he and Roderich were on some sort of familiar level, but the extent of it was foggy at best. It wasn't something you just… brought up to someone, even if you knew them well.

"Gilbert." Roderich said, after a moment of shared silence.

He looked up from the table, pulled from his thoughts. "Yeah?"

He sighed, and slumped just enough for his head to lower an inch or two. "I don't… Your family history doesn't mean anything to me." He stopped, looking surprised. "I don't intend for that to sound rude…"

"No, I know," Gilbert interrupted, hoping to proactively stop anything awkward from happening. "My grandfather was a shitty person. He wasn't a great figure in my life or my dad's," he sipped his beer again. "The only important thing about my family history is to stop his legacy in its tracks."

Roderich nodded. "That's quite thoughtful."

Gilbert shrugged and furrowed his brows. "I don't know about thoughtful so much as it is common sense. I hate that I'm forever tied to his bullshit."

Roderich placed a hand on the table. "I don't think you are," he said. "I was born Jewish. You were not born a racist."

Gilbert looked up. "That's… yeah." He hadn't ever considered it like that. This wasn't something genetic. He inherited his grandfather's history the same way he inherited his grandmother's favorite porcelain teapot. It was ugly, he didn't want it, and it wasn't something that he had to keep.

Roderich looked smugly into his glass. "Besides. Your personal life has already countered so many of his ideals. You work with a girl of Turkish decent, you're openly homosexual to some degree, and you're dating a Jewish man."

Gilbert suddenly stopped in his tracks, his lips on the rim of his glass. "I'm what?" Had he really just heard him say that?

Roderich too, was frozen. His eyes wide behind his glasses, his glass hovering above the table. "I didn't… Gilbert, I…"

He laughed, putting his glass down. "Well, Wienerblut, really let that one loose, didn't you?"

Roderich's face turned bright pink. "Well!" He fought back, but his head turned to the side and his avoidance of eye contact said that he knew he couldn't win.

"You just want to be friends? Isn't that what you said like… days ago?" Gilbert continued, kicking his partner's chair playfully under the table.

"You know, I'm writing you a symphony. So we might as well just…"

"Just what?" Gilbert prompted.

"Just… be a couple." Roderich crossed his arms behind the table, looking off to the side. His face was growing redder by the second.

Gilbert sighed, the end of his laughter trailing off. "Man, I didn't realize that's what it took to be a couple these days in the ole seventeen-hundreds."

"Oh shut up," Roderich said quietly, the smallest hint of a smile escaping.

"You know, Wienerblut," Gilbert said, feeling more comfortable than he had all day. He took a swig of his beer and set the glass down firmly. "Honestly, I feel like I barely know you. But sure. I'll be your boyfriend." He extended his glass towards his companion, waiting for his response.

Roderich took a minute to compose himself. He took a deep breath and looked Gilbert in the eye, clinking their glasses together. "Prost." They said together, and finished their glasses.