Doubloon was about a duke getting rescued by a bunch of pirates. The musical was being played at a small independent theatre nearby. It wasn't West End, but Arthur thought that a small theatre was appropriate and made sense, given that he didn't see much advertising around the city.
At present times, Arthur watched the performance play along. So far, it was… average. Fine, the choreography and music was good, (it did give this phantom of the opera mixed with pirates of the Caribbean feel) but the story was clichéd with god so many plot holes. Perhaps if the leads' motivations were expanded upon, or if the macguffin was erased, maybe it would improve.
He looked to the left, wanting to talk with Francis, but to his dismay, he was busy talking and joking with Gilbert. An empty feeling ebbed into his chest at the sight of those two chatting without him. Arthur enjoyed quiet, lengthy conversations over sporadic shots of humour, but seeing Francis enjoy his chatter with Gilbert so much made him wonder if Francis saw him as a bore. Arthur told himself that Gilbert had been a friend of Francis' for years, so it was natural for them to be his close. Also, everyone acts differently to different people, it was a fact of life. It was just like how he didn't like to talk to his workmates too much. To his relief, the gap left by his anxieties was filled. Fuck his self doubts. Shrugging the emotion off, he focused back forward and snacked on his packet of crisps.
A few minutes after the production ended and the audience left, Antonio came out of the backstage area, panting and carrying a water bottle.
"Nice job, by the way!" Gilbert slapped his back and gave Antonio a thumbs up. Antonio nodded as he removed his bandana, his fringe sticking to his sweat slick forehead.
"Yeah," he huffed, and took a swig from his drink bottle. "God it was hard to dance in this!" He gestured his outfit. While the outfit didn't include the traditional pirate coat, he still wore a frilly dress shirt, and a beaded velvet sash, which contributed to the bulk.
"I could see why, with the…" They turned towards Arthur. Arthur looked around them, wide eyed, and nervous. He looked towards Francis, and he gave him a reassured nod. After taking a break to compose himself, Arthur continued with "I could see why, with the, the beads and all that on the sash."
"Ah!" Antonio nodded. "Yes! Though if I didn't have the beads, I don't think that I would've standed out that much in front of the crowd." Antonio looked down towards the beaded sash, and twisted his waist a little, frowning. "Again, I think that I tied it a bit too tightly. Bit too restricting, you know! Maybe they can just be elastic next time."
Arthur sighed a breath of relief at his response. Antonio was going a bit off topic, but he was glad that stuttering didn't garner too much attention.
"Geez, it's a shame that Rod had to stay behind," Antonio muttered when they left the theatre. "That theatre director's nuts, I swear! So. Where are we going tonight?"
As they walked and talked, Arthur nursed in this atmosphere. In the street lights, the trees were already beginning to sprout green leaf buds out of their seemingly dead branches. He liked Spring, it was a season of new beginnings, of moving on. Black ice crunched under their boots as the sound of cars and the blowing wind brushed past their ears, creating a musical quiet. He shivered. Though it was Spring, it was still quite cold. Should've brought a thicker coat or something. Arthur watched as the trio talked, their busy chatter cutting through the quiet. Maybe he could join, but he didn't feel like tangling himself within the speedy conversation, and would rather watch. Noticing Arthur's withdrawal, Francis caught his gaze, and turned towards him.
"Arthur, do you want to join in?" He suggested.
"Hm? Ah, no, I don't have anything to add." He huffed, and gave an awkward laugh, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. Francis smiled and nodded, before Gilbert asked him something and tangled him back into their conversation. He himself would rather watch from the sidelines, especially since he had nothing to add. He wished that he was more friendly and extroverted so that he wouldn't be as much of this sinking rock. He sighed, watching the cold air turn his breath to smoke.
When they arrived at a lively bistro, they sat at their tables and ordered some food and wine. Arthur was going to ask for some ale, but shrugged it off. He didn't like wine, and would rather have ale. Despite all those talks about how sweet wine was, all he could taste was bitterness.
When the wine came, Arthur considered calling the waiter back for some ale, but he didn't want too much commotion, so he pushed the wine glass to the side and poured himself some water. However, he half cursed himself when he saw that Gilbert had ordered himself some beer. Nevertheless, he stayed put. The waiter had gone, and he didn't feel like calling him back in front of the whole restaurant. Water it was, then.
"So," Toni started as he sipped his wine. "What did you think about Doubloon-"
"Congratulations!" Francis barged in. "Seemed only yesterday since you've started it!" Antonio was a little dazed at his speediness, but continued.
"Heh, true." Antonio swished his wine around a bit. "Honestly I'm surprised that we even got it done on time!"
Francis smiled and nodded. But the feeling of content inside of him became absent. Instead, there was a hollow feeling. Yes, it did seem only yesterday when Antonio thought up with the idea. Hell, it wasn't even a serious idea as well, just something that came up during dinner.
Something wasn't right. Didn't he abandon that mindset already? He hadn't thought in that way for months, so why did it come back?
He heard an applause and some cheers, and turned around to see some people tuning and assembling instruments on the makeshift stage. A jazz band? Huh, that was new. There used to be this piano player who sang and played songs while they wined and dined, now replaced with a jazz band for some reason.
There was a saxophonist that waved and smiled at the audience as he tuned his saxophone. Up there, smiling, waving… That could've been him. There was an opportunity right there, and he missed it- he shook it off. In an attempt to soothe his nerves, he turned to the front and fiddled with his thumbs. Antonio was attempting to start a conversation with Arthur who stayed quiet, with Gilbert watching along. Gilbert and Arthur glanced towards him, making him look away and sip some wine, the cool temperature distracting him from his nerves. He put the wineglass down, but some condensation on the side of the glass made it slip, spilling onto his white dress shirt and dyeing it purple.
"Geez, better get that cleaned up," Gilbert muttered. Francis nodded, and rushed to the bathroom.
Seeing how Francis reacted so flatly and neutrally to the wine spill made Gilbert sigh. Francis had changed a lot in the past few months just because of his job dilemma and not doing anything with it. And because of that, he closed up. He wanted to give him a pep talk to stop dwelling on it and move on, actually finding a job if he wanted one so much. He noticed Arthur raising his head towards the direction Francis went. Jealousy boiled up within him at the sight of his concerned face. Were those two so close now that Arthur was more concerned to Francis than himself?
"I'll check on him," he declared as he stood up before following him to the bathroom.
The red wine stained the white porcelain basin as he wrung out his shirt's front and ran it under the tap, scrubbing the cloth together. He frowned when he saw that the colour, though now a light mauve shade, spread out further. This was a white shirt as well, a colour prone to being stained, so the colour was there permanently. Maybe it wouldn't be as noticeable if he dyed his entire shirt purple.
After wringing the last bit of water out, Francis turned to the mirror and rubbed the bridge of his nose. There were job opportunities and he didn't even see it. He could had solved his unemployment issue by now. If he had continued searching for job opportunities, if he wasn't so lazy-
He was being drastic again, he reminded himself. It was fine. It was fine. The band was probably formed earlier, much earlier, months, maybe even years ago, not just slapped together for this evening.
The thought of a couple of months ago or years ago made him reflect. How was he during that time frame? He remembered feeling useless that he wasn't able to do anything. That he was a sinking brick, that he was this negative sentient who easily sucked away joy. Now that he thought back to it, it was… strange. Especially when he hadn't thought in this way in a while. Relatable? Yes. Understandable? Yes. But now it was like hearing the story of another person, another person who needed some reassurance that their situation wasn't as bad as they thought it was.
So was this feeling still applicable to him now? There was a separation between his current mindset and that thought. But he was disappointed at his reactions tonight. He thought that he was beyond this now. That he had made progress-
His head snapped up when the bathroom door opened. It was Gilbert, his expression neutral, but he knew that he was concerned from his stiffness and focus on him.
"So. Rough night, huh?" Gilbert asked.
"Pretty much." He realised that he sounded tired. Gilbert rubbed his neck and looked around, unsure.
"Is this the job thing again?" He asked, using a quiet, careful tone that he had honed over the weeks. Francis nodded.
"Yeah." He faced the mirror again. In it was the reflection of himself and Gilbert standing at the doorway. Gilbert shifted.
"Well, why don't you try searching for a job again? No use just moping around and doing nothing, you just need to figure out what you want to do, I suppose, He suggested with a joking lilt. Francis rubbed the back of his neck, half sighing, half frowning at Gilbert's reaction.
"Well, I've been doing that for the last couple of months. Not much luck so far."
"Oh, really? Huh." He saw Gilbert cross his arms and tap with his forefinger as he thought. Was he not aware? Gilbert tapped the back of his neck as he rubbed it, as if thinking of something. He was too nervous, he needed to loosen up a bit, know that it wasn't as big of a deal.
"Well, it's fine-"
"Fine?" Gilbert spat back, making Francis tense up at the harshness. A look of concern replaced his face, and he sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Look." His tone was somber, deep, and lacking its air of humour. "I… actually, nevermind." Sure, Gilbert was organised, and was the brains out of the three of them, but he was never good at dealing with emotions.
"Nevermind?" Gilbert continued to rub the bridge of his nose, thinking.
"Yeah."
"But how come you stopped looking- ok, that sounded stupid, erhm, what I was meant to say was why you took a break if you wanted a job so much."
Francis raised his eyebrow at Gilbert's change in tone, but he on the other hand stood, arms crossed, head in a questioning tilt, detatched from this serious question.
"... Well, it was… it was more based on why I wanted a job." Gilbert's eyebrows furrowed at his response while his tongue pressed against his cheek's inside. "Antonio had his musical, you had your coding job… and honestly, I felt, well, lazy. I felt like I was this heavy weight and that I was wasting time and that I was stupid for only being able to smile and nod as you both ramble on about how your work was while, I, I was staying home and doing absolutely nothing. So yeah. I wanted a job because I felt guilty not to." Francis was surprised how fresh that hurt still was. Gilbert exhaled.
"That's why I took a break. I didn't want to push myself anymore. But even if I have a job right now, I doubt that I would like it too much."
"But now… you're still jealous of those other guys?" Francis glanced towards the outside of the bathroom. He could hear the jazz band doing another number.
"I don't know. I… saw them, and I thought to myself that maybe I could've already had a job if I searched hard enough." He realised something. Was performing onstage the only goal he had? "To be honest, I'm not even sure what I want to do."
"Well… erhm, ok, ok. Let's go back to square 1. You started playing the saxophone because you thought it sounded nice, right?"
He thought back to what he wanted to do when he was a kid. dreamed of performing in front of a crowd. Possibly at this bistro hidden somewhere, the air musty, smoky and filled with quiet chatter. He imagined himself, enjoying the melody of the saxophone, as a piano player played delicately behind him. Just the sensation of playing the saxophone, the feeling of the strap against his neck. The sensation of his fingers against the keys. The buzzing of the reed as music filled the air.
Was that it? Was that seriously it? Of all the things he could've done with his talents, and this was what he worked towards his entire life? Just some fantasy of-
"Hey. Hey, Francis?" Francis realised that he was staring at the inside of the sink. "You were sort of blacking out for a second."
"I was?" Gilbert nodded in confirmation. He rubbed the back of his head, surprised at how easy he got caught into the cycle again. "Huh. Excuse me for that." He sighed and rubbed his eyes, trying to calm the tension within him.
"Francis."
"I need some time alone."
"Time alone? No no, I can-"
"Please." Gilbert stopped. He was about to object, but stopped himself.
"Fine. Suit yourself." Without another word, Gilbert left the bathroom.
He sighed. Francis turned on the tap and splashed some water on his face. His only desire was to perform. On the bright side… at least it was something?
He was sick of feeling like this. Of feeling like he was lower than his peers because of his unemployment issue. Even when he was harsh with his wording, Gilbert had a point. If he had a problem, he needed to solve it rather than let it hold him back. Perhaps he could update his resume once ue got back. And then search for- Francis stopped himself when he realised. Wasn't Angus' wedding on next week. Right. He could pack up for Angus' town first. Then he could search again.
And for the next while, he thought.
By now, the restaurant was quieter as the guests finished their dinner and left. Though still crowded, there was significantly less people in it. Furthermore, their meals had been served. Arthur checked his watch as he nibbled on some of his salad. Gilbert and Francis had been in the bathroom for a while now.
The bathroom door opened on cue, and Gilbert marched out of it with a stone cold expression. Antonio stood up.
"Gil-"
Gilbert swiped up his glass of beer before Antonio could continue and marched outside. Arthur looked back at the bathroom, and noting that Francis wasn't coming out either, he frowned.
Did the two get into an argument? Was he alright? Did he need to go in to check on him? After a few more questions, he sat down and twirled his thumbs to get himself to concentrate. If Gilbert, a long time friend of Francis, got into an argument with Francis, it was something serious. However, considering how Gilbert stormed off like that, it was clear that Francis wanted to be alone right now. Arthur trusted his instincts enough to stay put and trust that Francis was alright, and so he sat.
"So," Antonio brung up. "Uh…"
"What? Oh. I'm an accountant." Arthur mentally kicked himself when he realised that Antonio asked for something before he even knew what he was asking for.
"Ah." He breathed a sigh of relief when Antonio didn't notice the mistake in his answer. "Erhm, alright! Gilbert codes…?"
"Yep, heard that. I… I work for a, a construction company." Arthur never liked wine, but with the water gone, so he sipped some of the bitter liquid to try and act natural. "Yeah."
Antonio nodded. "Huh. Erhm, wow, let's see what else we can talk about. How about…"
"Doubloon?"
"Ah! Right! Yeah! Hey, I don't think that I heard you talk about it too much!" He placed the wine glass down and sat, all cool and casual. "How was it?"
"Oh. Erhm… I… thought that it was ok?"
"ok?"
"Yeah. The music was good, I suppose."
"Yeah, Rod's great at that! All credit goes to him, god I love him." He mentally threw up a little at the sap while Antonio kept on praising his boyfriend.
"Well that's nice. Erhm, Francis told me it gave a phantom of the opera and pirates of the caribbean vibe," he brung up, hoping to change the topic, "and, well, erhm, frankly I agree."
"Haha yeah, we wanted something really grand and epic. So we thought: hey, why don't we do something inspired by those soundtracks?" Arthur nodded. "I think it turned out really well! You?"
"Hm? Oh!" Realising that he was slouching, Arthur sat up. He huffed as he recollected the evening performance. "Well, the music's good, the choreography's good, the story…" He grimaced and inhaled a hiss, but stopped himself when he realised that its implication. Antonio wasn't too miffed, however.
"Oh, the story?" Toni scratched the back of his head. "Heh, that was… that was really in the back burner. But at the end of the day, as long as it's entertaining and fun, that should be enough."
Being entertaining and fun as the only goal? That was it? For Arthur, storytelling was a sacred art of passing wisdom from one mind to the next, a tool of mass communication mightier than the sword.
He huffed. Realising that Antonio was looking at him, he racked his head for a quick response. "The story still miffed me quite a bit."
"Oh really? Huh." He gave out a hearty chuckle. "Well, at the end of the day, we're not trying to write Don Quixote or anything, are we?"
Arthur nodded, and sipped on some wine. Fine, Antonio brung up an interesting factor. He thought back to how Antonio noted that the musical was made to accompany a soundtrack. If that was the case, then it would be the music and choreography that took centre stage, and obviously the plot wouldn't be too featured.
"But… yeah!" Antonio started. "I was a real fan of pirates when I was a kid!" At that, Arthur's interests perked up. So was he.
"Really!" Antonio nodded.
"Uh-huh!"
"Wow. Huh, you know I was wondering if it was a coincidence that the main character's pistol, crap I forgot his name, erhm, anyway, that his pistol could only be used once and that was it. Because those can only be used once back then."
"Oh yeah! In the movies, they can be used more than once, which is pretty bull, because they can't even be reloaded or anything, and they're designed to fire one bullet only."
"I know, right? Pistols don't even have a place to store any extra bullets into, unlike…"
Arthur realised that Antonio's attention drifted elsewhere. When he turned to his side, he saw that Francis was back. His dampened spirits were a stark contrast to the jovial atmosphere of the rest of the restaurant. Francis cleared his throat.
"Well, I've been thinking."
"Thinking?"
"Francis, are you alright?"
"I… sort of need to figure out my needs in this job thing."
"Didn't the therapist ask you to rest?" Francis shifted a little.
"Yeah, well, I decided. I want to start doing something. I want to figure out what to do with my life."
"Don't forget that it may be the self guilt talking, alright?" Arthur cursed himself. Hell that didn't sound right.
"Yeah, I considered that. But... it stems from my fear of failure. And the fact that I don't know what to do with my life."
They stay hushed, curious at what else Francis had to say.
"Right now I play the saxophone. So I'm just going to stick with that. It's not much, but oh well."
"But you still got a lead," Arthur noted.
"Yeah."
"True. But I need to figure out figure out stuff. Look, when I was a kid, I just wanted to perform in front of a crowd. Sometime during the night. To me, it sounded nice, but now… now I want to re-evaluate that. I think that playing the saxophone's not much. It can't cure cancer, it can't bring world peace or anything, but… I like it. A-and I'm just going to focus on that."
It stressed Arthur to see how Francis downplayed his talents. He remembered how passionate he was with music. He remembered how alive his music was. Hearing his music was as if life was breathed into him again. Hell, it inspired him to write a book!
"Didn't you say that music was an international language?"
"Hm?"
"Yeah. I think that the motivation's touching. And it's enough."
"No no, but it's just… playing. I'm not smart, I'm not creative-"
"So? Art. It's the expression of oneself. And your music! Oh how expressive it is! Hell, I can't describe it enough. It's alive, it's beautiful. I-it inspires people! And besides. You said that music is a language that anyone can understand! And wow you have no idea how impactful just how effective it is! If you want to just perform, go for it. I love it! It's amazing! And whoever says otherwise can go fuck!..."
Arthur realised that the entire restaurant was staring at him. Even the band and the waiters were staring. Self consciousness sank into him. Oh god, he wanted to die he wanted to die he wanted to die fuck.
Realising that he was standing, Arthur cleared his throat and sat down, ignoring how the rest of the restaurant staring like a hawk to prey.
The stares of the restaurant goers caused an unpleasant prickly feeling to creep up on his skin. Arthur glanced to the side to check if they had finished staring, but seeing that they still stared, as still as a mannequin, he faced the front. A waiter spilt some wine, and his attention went to cleaning it instead. Slowly, one by one, the rest of the diners turned away, and minded their own businesses again, the restaurant's hearty atmosphere regained.
Arthur groaned and slammed his face onto the table. Hell that was embarrassing, they probably thought he was crazy or something. He also swore! Francis sat down next to Arthur, to which he sat up in response.
"Excuse me, that was probably the wine," he muttered before he stabbed the steak with his fork.
"It is? Well… I'm glad."
"The whole restaurant stared at me."
"Well. Go big or go home, am I right?" He chuckled. Arthur rolled his eyes a little. Fair enough, he supposed. He looked back towards Francis. "But… still," Francis started. "Regardless of that, thank you. I've never thought of that before." It sounded so genuine. Arthur looked up, and seeing Francis relaxed like this, every muscle in him loosened.
"Don't forget that, alri-" Francis hugged him at that which made him tense up in surprise.
"Thank you." He let go and he wiped his eyes.
"Is it really that moving? Jesus." Arthur reached his pocket for a handkerchief. From the lace edges, he realised that he bought Francis', the one he had forgotten to return. "Oh. Here's your handkerchief, excuse me, I, well, I forgot to return it." Francis nodded and smiled, and accepted it before wiping his tears away.
"Well, thanks for returning it then!" The sight of Francis smiling made him feel… joy. Just pure, unfiltered joy within him. He smiled back.
For the rest of the evening, they talked as they ate. After they finished their meals, they walked back to the apartment block. Arthur noted the giddy feeling inside as they walked. with the small outburst seemed nothing more but a distant memory. His mind was more preoccupied with Francis' response. Daresay, seeing him so happy like that gave him a content satisfaction, and knowing that he himself helped with that made him, well, glad.
"Francis?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks for inviting me. It was… ok. But better than what I thought it would be." Francis smiled at Arthur's ernesty.
"You're welcome!" Arthur feels himself smiling, and they continue walking back. They drop Arthur off at his floor.
"Maybe… maybe you could write up a resume," Arthur suggested just before leaving.
"Maybe. Christ, I haven't updated my resume in a long time. So yeah. Maybe I can update my resume, find some performing jobs." His expression changed, as if he just thought of something. "But… I have to be at a friend's wedding next week"
"Heh. Funny, My brother…" Arthur's joking attitude disappeared when he realised something. Something wasn't right. Angus has a wedding next week. Francis has a friend who has a wedding next week...
Didn't Angus have a penpal named Francis?
When the realisation came unto him, even more connections formed.
Angus' penpal was for his French class.
Angus and Francis were the same age.
Hell, he even saw a picture of him once! How did he not realise all this?!
"Hey, Arthur, what's wrong?"
"Is his name Angus?" Francis' concerned look ebbed into a look of confusion, before it tensed into a look of surprise that confirmed everything.
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE-"
"YES! WHAT THE FUCK!"
Woowie! Damn, that was a bomb :D
Soz for the long wait, this chapter was like 4000 words long so ye. Jesus this is the longest chapter yet! However, that title might be took once I get into the details of Arthur's family. The upside? More of bitg to read! The bad news? Well, it'll probably take a long time again -_- I'm really excited to finally be able to write about them! Woo!
Thanks to probablysomebody on AO3 for beta reading this chapter!