Ray's, Fillman st. Around 9pm (or about 3 hours later after Seifer and Zell's second chance meeting in Balamb, the first instigated by Zell, the second by Seifer).
The night was drearier than many past. Balamb wasn't very big, and Zell lived close to the busiest district of the city, of which Fillman was an offshoot. Everyone that spent even a month in the city knew where Fillman was. It was the home of the city's public library, tax registry, only decent bookstore, and exotic liquor shop. And Ray's.
Ray's wasn't so seedy, but dingy enough to make someone not feel bad about spilling a little beer or being too loud. It was converted from a large factory that once housed huge machinery. It worked to keep the smoke out of everyone's faces and made all the sound echo, so no matter where you where there was the sound of constant chatter.
He knew how warm it got inside, so had changed to an old black tank top and his trusty leather jacket and its blue flamed sleeves. He only wore his jacket in Balamb. In Esthar and Deiling he was too easily noticed and pointed out as one of the SeeDs that had fought Ultimecia. Applause is nice, but it's a little unnerving when people are drawing attention to you when you're trying to indiscreetly take a shit in the men's bathroom. All he needed was some tabloid report that he had gastric problems printed.
He stepped into the pool hall and bar and didn't bother to even look for Seiffer. Why did he come here again? Oh yeah, there was nothing better to do, and ma had said somethign about "quality time" which most likely involved him helping her clean something. Plans were the perfect way out, and there wasn't exactly anywhere else to go, unless he wanted to sit in some overly bright cafe' drinking coffee or some stupid shit.
He ordered a cold beer and turned lazily to survey the crowd. His gaze passed over a few already drunk couples, most probably in their early 30's, dancing to some lackluster dance music in the next room separated by glass panels and bad rug wall coverings. The bar stool crowd were always university students avoiding their parents or studying. The pool tables were where the real bar-flies tended to congregate. It was just something you got good at if you went to Ray's alot.
He spotted Seifer easily enough, mostly because he was so tall and ...so tall. His prominent scar didn't exactly make him less noticeable either. Zell considered not going over to him right away, but Seifer spotted him and raised a hand to show that he had acknowledged Zell's presence. Might as well get this over with. Maybe if he got buzzed enough he wouldn't hear or care what Seiffer was saying to him. If that didn't work, he could always have a few more and beat Seifer until he couldn't stand. Or sit.
"Didn't think you'd show up!" Seifer said only half-jokingly as he lined up the 6 ball to go flying into the bottom right pocket of the table.
"Yeah well, there's not much else to do around here." The snappy retort.
"You wound me, I thought you came all this way to be with me."
"If that was the beer talking, it would be true." He stated with a good natured smirk and took a swig. His ma had hinted to him before he'd left that although he wasn't fully ostracized, Seiffer wasn't entirely welcome in Balamb.
It did seem a little strange that although people seemed to readily know Seifer: waitresses knowing what he wanted before he ordered it, friendly waves from people passing by, that no one actually stopped and talked to him. It made Zell feel guilty for approaching him with his guards up. She hadn't said it, but he knew she wanted him to make friends with Seifer. As much as he hated to admit it, he really ought to do the right thing and at least attempt it.
"I hear you." Seiffer said in, comraderie? When did that happen, Zell thought as Seiffer raised his bottle to Zell before swallowing what was left of the contents. Zell, never one to be outdone, especially by Seiffer pulled his beer back to drink just a little more than Seiffer had. He knew it was foolish and all those other things (his internal quistis voice kept warning him that drinking too fast was dangerous), but he just wanted to truly show Seifer up just ONCE. But before he turned to doing shots, maybe a past time a little less likely to make him nauseated and perhaps dead.
"Let's play some pool." Zell suggested, preeferring to not to stand around and try to talk to Seifer.
"Are you sure about that?" Seifer asked, never one to make anything easy. Or boring.
"Am I sure about what?! yes!" Zell said, already slightly annoyed. What was that about not getting all defensive?
"How about making things a little more...interesting?" He said, quirking a single blonde eyebrow at the other blonde's blonde eyebrows.
"Despite what you think I don't have a lot of money" Zell took another swig of his beer and not caring for where this was leading so far.
"Who cares about money? Alright, whenever one of us gets a ball in, the other's got to take a drink from his bottle. If you land the green or the green striped, it's an entire bottle. Whoever loses gotta do two double vodka shots." Zell did a double take. A what? That was INSANE! He looked at Seifer menacingly trying to ward off anymore attempts at separating himself from his wallet.
Seifer stared back nonchalantly showing no signs of apathy or apparent manipulation. Apparent being the keyword of that statement. "you afraid?" Seifer asked cooly, quirking his eyebrow again.
Zell frowned heavily. This was it, everytime before he had argued with Seifer, all five hundred eighty three times or whatever, at this point he was already too heated or they were separated. He was gonna prove himself good this time. He slammed his beer bottle on the pool table. "No way am I scared! bring it on, *chicken*" Zell replied, happy to have finally turned the name calling tables on Seiffer, who was utterly unphased. If he had noticed the name, he pretended like he hadn't heard it.
"You rack em, I'll get some beers." Businesslike, he crossed the bar and got six cold ones to start with. Zell was good at pool, and good at holding his liquor. Seifer hadn't seemed like he was so great at pool while he was playing by himself; at least not better than himself, anyway...
The night was drearier than many past. Balamb wasn't very big, and Zell lived close to the busiest district of the city, of which Fillman was an offshoot. Everyone that spent even a month in the city knew where Fillman was. It was the home of the city's public library, tax registry, only decent bookstore, and exotic liquor shop. And Ray's.
Ray's wasn't so seedy, but dingy enough to make someone not feel bad about spilling a little beer or being too loud. It was converted from a large factory that once housed huge machinery. It worked to keep the smoke out of everyone's faces and made all the sound echo, so no matter where you where there was the sound of constant chatter.
He knew how warm it got inside, so had changed to an old black tank top and his trusty leather jacket and its blue flamed sleeves. He only wore his jacket in Balamb. In Esthar and Deiling he was too easily noticed and pointed out as one of the SeeDs that had fought Ultimecia. Applause is nice, but it's a little unnerving when people are drawing attention to you when you're trying to indiscreetly take a shit in the men's bathroom. All he needed was some tabloid report that he had gastric problems printed.
He stepped into the pool hall and bar and didn't bother to even look for Seiffer. Why did he come here again? Oh yeah, there was nothing better to do, and ma had said somethign about "quality time" which most likely involved him helping her clean something. Plans were the perfect way out, and there wasn't exactly anywhere else to go, unless he wanted to sit in some overly bright cafe' drinking coffee or some stupid shit.
He ordered a cold beer and turned lazily to survey the crowd. His gaze passed over a few already drunk couples, most probably in their early 30's, dancing to some lackluster dance music in the next room separated by glass panels and bad rug wall coverings. The bar stool crowd were always university students avoiding their parents or studying. The pool tables were where the real bar-flies tended to congregate. It was just something you got good at if you went to Ray's alot.
He spotted Seifer easily enough, mostly because he was so tall and ...so tall. His prominent scar didn't exactly make him less noticeable either. Zell considered not going over to him right away, but Seifer spotted him and raised a hand to show that he had acknowledged Zell's presence. Might as well get this over with. Maybe if he got buzzed enough he wouldn't hear or care what Seiffer was saying to him. If that didn't work, he could always have a few more and beat Seifer until he couldn't stand. Or sit.
"Didn't think you'd show up!" Seifer said only half-jokingly as he lined up the 6 ball to go flying into the bottom right pocket of the table.
"Yeah well, there's not much else to do around here." The snappy retort.
"You wound me, I thought you came all this way to be with me."
"If that was the beer talking, it would be true." He stated with a good natured smirk and took a swig. His ma had hinted to him before he'd left that although he wasn't fully ostracized, Seiffer wasn't entirely welcome in Balamb.
It did seem a little strange that although people seemed to readily know Seifer: waitresses knowing what he wanted before he ordered it, friendly waves from people passing by, that no one actually stopped and talked to him. It made Zell feel guilty for approaching him with his guards up. She hadn't said it, but he knew she wanted him to make friends with Seifer. As much as he hated to admit it, he really ought to do the right thing and at least attempt it.
"I hear you." Seiffer said in, comraderie? When did that happen, Zell thought as Seiffer raised his bottle to Zell before swallowing what was left of the contents. Zell, never one to be outdone, especially by Seiffer pulled his beer back to drink just a little more than Seiffer had. He knew it was foolish and all those other things (his internal quistis voice kept warning him that drinking too fast was dangerous), but he just wanted to truly show Seifer up just ONCE. But before he turned to doing shots, maybe a past time a little less likely to make him nauseated and perhaps dead.
"Let's play some pool." Zell suggested, preeferring to not to stand around and try to talk to Seifer.
"Are you sure about that?" Seifer asked, never one to make anything easy. Or boring.
"Am I sure about what?! yes!" Zell said, already slightly annoyed. What was that about not getting all defensive?
"How about making things a little more...interesting?" He said, quirking a single blonde eyebrow at the other blonde's blonde eyebrows.
"Despite what you think I don't have a lot of money" Zell took another swig of his beer and not caring for where this was leading so far.
"Who cares about money? Alright, whenever one of us gets a ball in, the other's got to take a drink from his bottle. If you land the green or the green striped, it's an entire bottle. Whoever loses gotta do two double vodka shots." Zell did a double take. A what? That was INSANE! He looked at Seifer menacingly trying to ward off anymore attempts at separating himself from his wallet.
Seifer stared back nonchalantly showing no signs of apathy or apparent manipulation. Apparent being the keyword of that statement. "you afraid?" Seifer asked cooly, quirking his eyebrow again.
Zell frowned heavily. This was it, everytime before he had argued with Seifer, all five hundred eighty three times or whatever, at this point he was already too heated or they were separated. He was gonna prove himself good this time. He slammed his beer bottle on the pool table. "No way am I scared! bring it on, *chicken*" Zell replied, happy to have finally turned the name calling tables on Seiffer, who was utterly unphased. If he had noticed the name, he pretended like he hadn't heard it.
"You rack em, I'll get some beers." Businesslike, he crossed the bar and got six cold ones to start with. Zell was good at pool, and good at holding his liquor. Seifer hadn't seemed like he was so great at pool while he was playing by himself; at least not better than himself, anyway...