The other side of things

[Sebastian Rossi]

It was funny what a few months could do to a person, Sebastian Rossi thought to himself as he waved goodbye to Ms. Pelletier, a regular to the Potions shop where Sebastian worked as a clerk. It was only four months ago that the young man would have been in the middle of a sound check at this time, getting ready for his band's set. The man hopped over the counter, his sneakers sliding across the wood, glad his boss wasn't there to see, and took a seat at the register where he picked up what he'd been doing before- reading a comic book. That woman could talk Bas's ear off or anyone's for that matter. Bas looked expectantly at the door as he heard the tinkle of chimes. A smile swept onto his face, brightening his green eyes as he lifted the partition and headed towards the door. He met up with a pregnant witch halfway there. "It's been quiet. Hopefully, you can keep off your feet" he said. After passing a few more pleasantries with his coworker and making sure she would be fine on her own, Bas was out of the door, off for the next two days.

Sebastian briefly thought about heading back to his small flat and calling it a night, but he quickly decided against that. He did that most nights and felt like something different tonight. Bas walked into an alleyway and apparated to another part of France, closer to his home and much more populated with people dressed like him. As he stepped out of another alley, he joined the people walking along the sidewalks. It was a Friday night, so there were quite a few people. Passing by a place hosting a poetry night and a bar, Sebastian continued to walk, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Eventually, he turned into another bar, one that was playing cool music. Stepping in, Sebastian nodded his head to the beat as he headed for the bar. He ordered a drink and then headed for a tiny table, where he took a seat, nursing his drink. He took a sip, trying to decide how he felt. He had avoided bars for a while after returning from their small tour. He just hadnt been up for it. All of the traveling had taken its toll on the guy. Drinking a bit more, Bas looked over the menu trying to decide if he was hungry.

 

[Isaac Pike]

Never the type to say no to an outting at a bar, an old friend from school, a beauxbatons student who'd left the school for Salem, and had then come to visit Isaac in France. Isaac Pike worked in a bar, he was, it was fair to say, a fan of all things alcoholic. He tended to drink a little more than most others. Most could claim that he was verging on having alcohol problems, but Isaac was quick to dismiss such claims with the simple phrase, I'm twenty, I don't have alchol problems. I'm too young. But, that was not the importance of this day. Instead he was heading to a bar, with this friend. Isaac had just gotten off work himself, dealing with the midday rush of people getting lunch. It was pretty easy to lose track in work, and just get on with it. Well, he found it so. He figured because of the entire nature of his work, he was an American living in the casual France seaside town. A lovely sun no matter the time of year making things hot and easy. Having changed out of his work clothes, and into a lot more casual clothing, looking still more muggle than wizard, but feeling that where he was going it would matter little. It was a bar, with a according to his friend a poetry type thing going. Isaac was not that much into that kind of thing, he wasn't a writer, or a poet. He could barely find the words to express himself on a daily basis. He was just trying to figure his way through his current life without making too many mistakes that could cost him. More than that, he was happy to go to a bar, to just forget about the mess that was his sister and her illness. The main reason why of all the possible jobs the young American could have he was a bartender, flexible time. It was as his friend put it, stupid, and a waste of time, but he made enough, enough since he didn't ever need to pay for transport or the simple things like that. It was easier to be a wizard, that much was obvious to the American.

As they reached the right place, his friend broke off into the crowd, clearly having prepared something to do at this reading, or whatever it might be. Isaac wasn't entirely happy at being a place where he had to pretend that he was very interested in poetry. Isaac wasn't very good at feelings, he wasn't very good at being someone who talked easily about the problems that troubled him. He was a lot better at running than he was at facing things head on. Running away like a gazelle fleeing from a lioness. Which while he wasn't the best light to portrait him in, it was also the only one he could think to describe his situation. For all he knew his, sister was dying and he could nothing to stop it. The hopelessness left him not really wanting to admit it. He was a fully graduated Beauxbatons educated young wizard, and he could do nothing to help his sick sister from whatever illness was plaguing her. It was days like that, that, the young American considered become a healer, but a healer and his type of lifestyle didn't mix. Even if it was notorious of Medical students to be the heaviest drinkers, and heaviest party-ers out of all other students. Isaac walked up to the bar and ordered a simple drink, a peach cider, that was a speciality found in few bars. He was surprisingly in luck, when the bar actually had them. Paying for his drink he turned back to the crowd that had gathered. A good atmosphere seemed in the air. A sentiment of having a good time, but casual. Not having any craziness, it hardly seemed like the place. It was as the golden brown eyes looked around the room, he noticed one person who seemed familiar. A guy from Beauxbatons, he was sure. "Been here before?" Isaac asked, taking a seat beside him, "Don't mind if I sit, do you?" Isaac added, as a side, as if it mattered little. He took a sip of his cider, and let the alcoholic liquid flow through him. "Appears quite busy for a poetry night."
​

 

[Sebastian Rossi]

Sebastian took another sip of his drink as he looked at the picture of onion rings on the menu. It sounded really good, especially with the lemony taste of the drink he had ordered. He took a breath, allowing the air to cool his throat which was warm with the heat from his drink. It was a comfortable feeling, one he hadn't had for a while but that was welcome nonetheless. His foot was tapping against the leg of his stool as he did. Sebastian heard someone talking, but it took him a moment to figure out if the person was actually talking to him. It was only when the guy sat down that he actually looked up, his green eyes looking into a not-quite-strange face. Shaking his head, he answered both questions at once. "Nope I don't mind and no, I've never been here before. Cool place, though" he stated as he picked up his drink from the table. He tilted it in the guy's direction before taking another slug of the drink.

The place was pretty cool and Sebastian wondered why he had never had the urge to step inside. He'd passed it by on many a night on his way home from work. Glancing around, Sebastian realized that the guy was right. It wasn't overly crowded but you could tell that this was a larger crowd than was typically in the bar. "Lot of aspiring poets, I guess" he replied with a shrug. "You planning on reading anything?" he asked, wondering if the guy had mentioned that because he had plans to go on stage and read some of his own poetry. Bas recalled the first time he'd performed his own material, on his own, at a bar. It had been back when he and Zura had first become friends. His heart stung a little as he thought about her urging him to go onstage and perform for someone other than a girl. It had been some time since he had actively thought of her, the friend who should have become something more if only he hadn't been so scared. Sebastian quickly raised his glass, his hand shaking slightly as he quickly finished his drink. He welcomed the burn that followed. To take his mind off of that train of thought, he looked toward his table companion, his green eyes narrowing. "Do we know each other from somewhere? School, maybe?" he asked curiously.

 

[Isaac Pike]

The bar was a busy place. He liked busy bars. They tended to be more interesting. The worked quicker and had a much better feel to them. He worked in a fairly busy bar. It had it's regulars and in the morning he spent a lot of his time making coffees more than anything else. Mostly because that was exactly what people wanted in the first hours of the day. It had a good ambience and he imagined that this place too had a good feel. Why else would they be able to even host a poetry reading night without fearing that no one would turn up. Which was quite a fear. A fear that as it turned out most bar owners had. Isaac had less of this fear. He knew the better the bar the busier it'll be no matter what happens. Always be cheerful and things work out for the best. Isaac wasn't the kind of person who like poetry reading, the friend that had brought him was, but he was willing to deal with it for a night while drinking himself into a nice blissfulness created by he alcohol he was currently drinking. Anything to take his mind off his sister, his lack of a moving career and crippling fears that be would fail in all aspects of he meaning. How was he meant to realize that things would eventually right themselves, all he saw was a long tunnel going through his sister's illness and there was no light at the end. There were breaks like this one, a tiny glimpse into a state where he worried a lot less. The guy whom he'd say next to seemed nice. He was familiar. A guy he recognized as someone that was very possibly from his school. Though he didn't want to be the one to bring it up. After all he hardly wAnted to be the reason he spoke of a magical school in front of people who were very well not magical. He was yet to notice if the place was or wasn't. To Isaac a bar was a bar, magical or not, that was all it was. Isaac took a sip of his beer and placed it back on the table between them. He was wondering if the guy had even been in his year. School seemed a million miles away now. A chapter he's left behind and promptly forgotten despite not having any bad feelings about the place. If this guy was, so many people had come and gone in the time that he actually couldn't quite remember. If there was then it would be interesting. How could he not really remember him? Isaac had always stuck to his group of friends, but he'd not been against knowing of the others. Isaac nodded in agreement, the place did at the end of the day seem pretty cool.

"Yeah, it is." Isaac agreed taking another sip of his drink. He glanced around and noticed he could no longer seem the friend who'd brought him. Isaac wasn't bothered by it. He in fact enjoyed going to places and splitting up with friends. It was what he did most of the time. His friends and him would meet up later in the night. Unless it was a foot night, in which they always found themselves in the same bar watching the match from one table. It was great. Isaac just knew this wouldn't be one of those nights. He looked back over at the guy, He sipped his drink and nodded. It was busy for a poetry night. The guy asked if he going to be doing his own poetry. Wow. Isaac hadn't even thought about trying to do something of the sort. It had been very last minute. He's not really ever written poetry before either and he didn't want to start in front of so many people. "No, I'm not much of a poet or writer. " Isaac shrugged. "You?" Isaac didn't know how popular writing your own poetry could be, he just hoped that there was no one with truly terrible poetry that made you want to rip you eyes out. The golden brown eyes of the boy glanced around the place and back to him. So he recognized him. That was an advancement in terms of figuring out how they knew one another. "Maybe, I went to a boarding school in the south of France. It was pretty awesome." Isaac said, hoping that while not mentioning it, he'd know what he was talking about. "I'm Isaac, it's nice to meet you."
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[Sebastian Rossi]

Sebastian tried to think back to school to see if he could place the guy, but the memories were foggy at best. The one thing he really remembered about school was his best friend turned girlfriend turned ex-girlfriend, Trilby Kiedis. His memories of her were clear as day. Bas could easily remember their study dates, the Yule balls they’d attended together and the time she’d come to his grandmother’s house. He could also remember the heartbreaking day that they’d broken up. Perhaps it was true what they said about people never forgetting their firsts. Nothing else about the school had really made its way into his long term memory. He had long since lost touch with Trilby, his male best friend had died from a werewolf attack and he’d never really been into classes. Still, he knew that was the likely link between him and the guy who sat across from him, if they truly knew each other at all. The musician never much noticed people who were in the audience at his shows, so he knew that wasn’t it. When he played, Sebastian was lost in his music. Sure, he made eye contact with people but he wasn’t actually taking in features or committing anything to memory. Making eye contact with a waitress, he pointed to his drink and watched her give him a curt nod. It had been a while since Sebastian had drunk heavily, and he had the feeling he would be breaking that tonight. Perhaps he’d head to Serafina’s place after, if he could apparate.

He was a bit surprised that the guy knew English, but was glad that he did. Although he’d lived in France for nearly 10 years now, Sebastian often forgot to start off conversations in French and would have to hastily switch over when he realized that the person he was talking to had no idea what he’d just said. It was rather amusing most of the time. His French had gotten loads better too, though he still had an odd accent that made it clear to anyone that his primary language was not French. Shrugging in reply, Sebastian continued in English. ”I write a bit, but not lately. Not anything I’d want to read anyway.” Sebastian looked around the room as he listened to the man talk. His eyebrow rose as his green eyes moved back towards the guy’s face. Boarding school in France?, he thought in amusement. It had been some time since he had been in a muggle establishment and his impatience over waiting for his drink was growing. In a wizarding place, his drink would have already floated his way. ” Well, what a coincidence”, he replied with a small smirk on his face, ” I went to a boarding school in the south of France too.” He spotted the waitress making her way over, his drink and several others on a tray. ”I started off in a boarding school in the States though, near Boston” he stated, his green eyes shrewdly searching for any sign of recognition. He took a quick sip of his drink and then grinned. ”Back at ya, Isaac. I’m Sebastian. Most people call me Bas though.”