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Play Me Our Song; Reserved
Topic Started: Sep 27 2009, 10:17 PM (15,002 Views)
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Rei looked around until he saw a waving individual, giving nothing more than a nod. He raised a brow at the greeting though, his mouth tempted to smile. It held back the temptation. Like he thought earlier, it was much easier to stay in control when he had a face to look at.

“If we’re here on improving concertmaster and conductor relations, it would be counterproductive to stand you up,” he countered, that particular insult of being counterproductive still ringing fresh in his mind.

So he couldn’t help but be surprised at the items offered. French? Isaac was offering him French food?

What was this, a date? He would need to fix that.

“The French sounds good,” he spoke, before tilting his head slightly. “It is your treat after all.”

He was much lighter personality wise than usual but that was most likely the weather and the change in environment…and partial shock of this entire exchange to begin with. “Although I still don’t quite understand this. We’re doing this because you’re bitter that I got into Julliard prep and you got wait listed?”
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lucier
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si vis pacem, para bellum
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Right...counterproductive, and we can't have that, can we? Since you're you and I'm attempting to bring out my better half." Isaac smirked vaguely at him as his hands slid easily into his pockets. Now, if he'd known that Pearce was so set in thinking that French food was a dating sort of cuisine, he would have corrected him, because he and Matthias ate here all the time, and he couldn't think of two more none-couply people than himself, and Matthias Derringer.

"I was hoping to choose the bar, but you have a point. Come on then." It was a holiday, which explained the lack of people, usually there was a long, long waitlist, but usually Isaac and Matthias took to flirting with the waitresses to get a seat...which Isaac was glad he didn't have to do today. They were led to a plush booth along the far wall, given menus, and left alone to peruse options.

Isaac glanced at him, "Why we're doing what? Bonding? No, the Juilard prep thing was just my excuse for practicing. I'm buying lunch for apologies, and you're treating me for a drink because I got concertmaster, and you practically said you would, anyway."

And then he paused, "...Doesn't trying to understand everything kind of hurt your head? I mean, it hurts my head, but I'm guessing you're a lot more intelligent than me, so it might be different for you." It was a fairly valid question. Pearce couldn't just let it go at a drink, Jesus. How much more explaining did Isaac have to do?
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Rei rotated between glancing at the menu and looking at Isaac. He just couldn’t quite figure out the boy after all. “In all honesty and with no offense meant, you give me the majority of my migraines. At least, you did until the last concert.” Why sugar coat it? They both knew it was the truth.

“But I prefer to understand who and what I deal with so I don’t run into any problems. My group of friends tend to go out for drinks when something rather eventful has happened. Recently, they’ve all been in the negative category, so my mind jumped to the worst possible solution.”

He couldn’t understand a blasted thing on this menu. He was making a rather good job of hiding it but he had no idea where to start.

“That and I like asking questions,” Rei replied honestly, shrugging his shoulders slightly. He couldn’t help but noticed the indented mark at the tips of the fingers. He had been practicing this morning too?

Goodness. He really was out for something.
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lucier
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He gave Pearce half of his migraines. Normally, Isaac would be proud of that, but now...well, that didn't serve his purposes at all. "Well...consider this apologies for that too. Good thing I chose an expensive restaurant, then, I rack up quite the bill with you." Or so it sounded, "No offense taken, and besides, I'm not an easy person to offend, the only person who's even come close is your friend York. Whose ass I still want to kick, by the way."

He peered down at the menu, being in Europe for three years had taught him basic French and basic German for musical purposes. And because one needed to eat in Europe, Isaac had also puzzled out menus somewhere along the way.

"Well, you and I have never had drinks, yes? Or lunch, for that matter, so maybe it's safer not to expect anything? For all you know, I might surprise you." If it was possible to be more surprised than he already was?

"It's not fair if I'm the only one answering..." Isaac spared him a glance, "By the way, see anything that you like?" Blissfully unaware that Pearce didn't understand a blasted thing on the menu, if Isaac had been himself at all, he would had had a good laugh. "The Filet is good, the veal is good, although if you're in anyway affliated with PETA I wouldn't suggest it."
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“Nick? Exactly what did he do to upset you...don’t tell me it was the brat comment,” he spoke, a ghost of a a grin on his face. It was interesting to think that Nick upset him. Rei remembered hearing far worse from that critics mouth. “Would you believe me if I told you that it was one of the nicer things I’ve heard him say?”

It was an interesting idea to merely expect nothing. To go in and not think about it. It was almost too foreign. As for surprises...“Are you going to be pulling a baton out of your own backside?”

Rei was far more talkative about pleasantries than usual, then again, it might have been the morning Brandy. He had decided to go for it after all, just in case.

“Then you can ask me. I won’t promise answers to everything but I can certainly say enough so that you don’t feel interrogated.”

Isaac just had to bring up the menu. The ‘filet’ caught his attention, as he scanned the rather long and over worded menu. There it was Filet Mignon, coupled with words he truly didn’t understand in the slightest. Perfect. “The filet is looking quite good,” he spoke lightly before raising his gaze at the other. “Any specific suggestions?”
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lucier
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"Yes it was the brat comment, I hate that word. It's one of those words." Isaac rolled his eyes, "I'd say you have weird friends, but you're Pearce and I guess that's why you like him so much. Anyway..." He turned his eyes to the menu again, "Let's see, today's filet mignon has oysters on it, which is good. It also is fairly typical, and since I really doubt you're going to be stepping into a classy French restaurant all by your lonesome, you might well be adventurous and get something else?" Pearce wasn't much one for adventure, Isaac had a feeling.

"Sorry to say Pearce, but one can only pull a baton out of his--the proper word would be ass, by the way--only if the baton was there in the first place. I don't have one up there." (You can check for yourself almost slipped out, but that would have been too far a stretch.)

"Thanks for the offer, when I come up with a question worth asking, I'll let you know, yeah? It's such a shame to be wasting a free pass like that."

Back to the menu, "Hey, they actually have Pastel De Carne this time, they were out last time, le coq de vin is good too, except the wine sauce sort of kills our purpose later if we're going drinking...they must have added Mousse De Foie Au Foie Gras, I didn't see that the last time I was here..."

The waitress meandered back to their table, it was a new girl, otherwise Isaac would have been semi-in trouble.

"Vous avez choisi, monsieurs? Vous parlez le francais?" She could speak English too, so could everyone in this restaurant, but this was an added touch, he supposed.

"Je parle un peu, embarrassingly un peu." Isaac gave her a vague smile, and glanced over at Pearce, "You about good?" Blissfully unaware of his conductor's inability to speak/understand French...at all.
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“I used to cross my fingers and pray that he’d get run over by a bus. We were rivals in every sense of the word and only got to know each other from mutual respect. Nick and I became friends after the accident, so he’s definitely the strangest out of all my friends,” Rei corrected, raising a brow at the connotations of the comment.

Oysters? Dear god, nothing else on the menu seemed to be making sense. The suggestions didn’t help at all. What in the world was this ‘foie’ that kept repeating itself over and over. Perhaps a french version of a garden salad?

The barbeque was looking to be a safer option.

He bit his lip, staying a bit silent as he tried to figure out this mysterious menu. He only glanced up when he heard french, raising an eyebrow at the words. Isaac spoke french? It was impressive and made sense, much more than the other language Rei spoke.

“...I’m grand. Just grand,” he mumbled, closing his eyes as he realized that a not so smart method was probably most useful. So he opened his eyes and read over in his mind the first thing he read.

It was the blasted Foie. Perhaps he could sneak away for a moment to make a phone call after.

Or he could ask…

No. Never. He couldn’t give that away when he chose the restaurant of all things. “You can go first.” Best see how the other ordered, just to make sure he would understand. Why did she have to speak french? They were in bloody New York City, not Montreal.
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lucier
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"All right then, if you insist," Isaac gave him a strange look and turned back to the menu and then the waitress, "Je voudrais...uh, Mousse De Foie Au Foie Gras? Et un petit cafe, we won't be having anything from la carte de vins...because we're going drinking later. Um, oh, and of course, la soupe à l'oignon. And that will be it for me, merci beaucoup." Isaac handed the menu back to her and shot her a smile so charming that she had to hide a blush behind her palm.

"It's been so long since I've gone to Lyon, my French is atrocious." He'd only studied at the Conservatory there for three months.

"Non, monsieur, your French is actually very good, better than what I hear on a daily basis from other customers."

"Thank you again."

"And what will your friend be having?"

Were they really...friends? Well, not really, but Isaac thought it was a better idea not to correct her for now. Pearce looked oddly tortured across the table, why was that?

"Hey...you okay? It's French food, it's not going to killl you." Or maybe he was having one of his Isaac-induced migraines again? What'd Isaac do now to warrant it?
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The confidence he had, no matter how small, seemed to be crushed when Isaac had ordered what he wanted. What now? He couldn’t order the same thing. The entire situation had just screwed him over...he should have gone first.

It was too late to regret now, so all Rei could do was look at the menu again, biting his lip as he tried to understand the strange foreign words. There wasn’t even an english description anywhere on the menu! This must have been illegal in one form or the other.

As attention was brought back to him, he jumped slightly before nodding and scanning the menu clearly.

Basil salmon terrine.

That sounded safe. Two out of three was definitely good and terrine couldn’t be that bad, could it?

So he went for it. “The basil salmon terrine, sil vous plait.”

It was the one phrase he knew and he used to correctly. Now all he had to do was pray he didn’t order anything too disturbing, a sigh of relief leaving him.
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lucier
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The sil-vous plait that left Pearce's mouth sounded...weird. And although the waitress's mouth twitched, she gave nothing else away. "Oui, monsieur, Basil salmon terrine." Basil smoked terrine wasn't...well, it wasn't weird, really. It wasn't something that Isaac counted on Pearce to like, though, salmon with basil, cream and mayo.

But hey, you learned something new every day.

After she went away, Isaac peered again at the man across the table. He had an inkling now that the man was bullshitting the fact that he spoke French, but...would it be best to expose it? Not really, he was here to be on Pearce's good side, not humiliate him.

So Isaac spoke again, "I come here to practice my French sometimes, it sucks though, and I guess she was nice enough not to call me out on it. I haven't been to Lyon ever since I was seventeen, and I was only over there for a while..."

She came by to pour them both coffee and Isaac wrapped his fingers around the cup, having something warm in your hands always helped with the fact that your fingertips were bruised.

"I didn't know you spoke French." But then again, there was a lot of things about Rei Pearce that Isaac didn't know. That was going to change.

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Rei stayed quiet for a moment, letting Isaac talk as he organized his own thoughts. Why did he care about the concertmasters opinion? What was wrong with not being able to speak the language?

He’d lived here his whole life. He never went out to see the world, know what it had to offer and hear the beautiful tongues across nations.

So as coffee was given to them and his fingers lightly touched the cup, the heat seemed to suddenly bring out his honesty.

“I don’t,” he spoke, taking a slow sip before placing the cup down. “I haven’t the faintest idea to what you two were talking about, have only a slight thought to what I said earlier and I’m still trying to figure out just what in the world this ‘foie’ is.”

It was perhaps the most honest about himself he’d ever been. “I don’t speak French Langley and…” he trailed away, doing something that might even shock the concertmaster.

He looked embarrassed, avoiding the mans eyes, cheeks ever so lightly flushed as he nervously pulled at his sleeve. “Can you tell me what we ordered?”
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lucier
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So...Pearce did not speak French.

And that led Isaac to stare at him, shocked for a couple of minutes, but then, rather than tease the conductor, which the old Isaac would have done. This Isaac merely took a sip of his own coffee and reached for the pitcher of cream that was there. "Well...you said please, and that was right, it wasn't like you suddenly said anything wierd."

It almost seemed too easy. Was fate smiling down on him at last?

He was smiling, but it was one of...happiness and it didn't hold mockery in it at all. "I ordered onion soup for both of us, because you can't go to a French restaurant without trying their onion soup, the foi gras is goose liver with garlic sauce, and you got salmon with cream, salted capers, it's pretty good, actually, I've had it. And...then there's coffee."

"She didn't really ask me anything, just if I spoke French, I do, atrociously and just a little." ('You could have asked, this is New York, they have to learn how to speak English' didn't slip out) and Isaac was proud of himself.

And then Isaac stared hard at Pearce's face, the man seemed...honestly embarrassed that he couldn't speak French and Isaac...sort of kind of could.

"It's no big deal, you know. It was either learn or starve. Nobody in Lyon spoke English." He meant it to be kind, mostly.
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Alright, the onion soup sounded safe. That was a good start already. Rei just couldn’t help but look a bit thankful that he hadn’t gotten this mysterious ‘foie’ after all. Goose liver? Of all the bloody things, it was goose liver?

He had chosen right with the salmon.

“You sounded like you could speak french perfectly fine,” Rei countered, frowning at the modesty. “Besides, it’s interesting to be able to speak another language. Especially french.”

Nick would have winked and said it was sexy. Rei just refrained himself to the acceptance that it was a useful and rather beautiful language to know.

“So you lived in France?”

It was a rather shy starting and attempt at a conversation that had nothing to do with music or their job but he tried no less. He’d never been good at interactions with other people, especially if he wasn’t close to them.

Most of his friendships had been forced by circumstance.

Best not focus on his lack of ability. He wasn’t quite ready to admit why he wanted to avoid the topic of his lingual failures. Perhaps another day...or with a few drinks in his system.
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lucier
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Isaac had the decency to look somewhat modest now. "I was only there for a little while on a study grant, they sent me off to Conservatoire Lyon and I was so lost for about an entire week, with the lessons it wasn't so bad, it's like point and grunt and do this...music kind of transcends, you know, that sort of thing...but then, it was outside, the food really sucked there on campus so you learned really quick. If I went there now, I'd be the laughingstock of France, trust me."

"I have a little bit German in me too, but don't ask me to speak German, I'll hurt your years and give you another migraine, of that I have no doubt."

Isaac sipped more coffee as he took to studying Pearce again, this conversation was nice, it was nice in the fact that they weren't subconsciously out to kill each other, and maybe Isaac would leave today feeling accomplished, after all.

And for a moment, he didn't say anything, because it was sometimes better to let silence speak for itself. But what could they really talk about? Music was the only thing that they really had in common, and even then, they didn't interpret anything the same.

Finally, he looked up, "So tell me, were you ever young? Or have you always convinced yourself that you were old?" Because that was what it felt like. "If it's the latter, being young is nice sometimes. Just a thought." Pearce wasn't that far gone yet...was he?
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“Hmm...lucky. I never went abroad. Never even left New York actually,” Rei spoke, smiling slightly as he allowed himself to feel a bit envious. Being able to speak another language because of learning about music in France, why it was a dream come true.

He grew just the slightest more jealous as German was added. English, French and German. Now that really wasn’t fair. “You could probably fake German and I’d be impressed. I couldn’t tell the difference.”

The quiet allowed him to think on why he had accepted the offer. He was supposed to meet up with Nick...it had been a safer decision to come here. Last thing he needed was another lecture and having a violin shoved into his arms. As if that would help him focus on his job at all. He even went as far as giving his prized instrument to David, who lived the farthest from him.

The question snapped him out of his state of mind, his eyes blinking slowly as he stared at the male. Rei was a bit...stunned at the question to say the least. So surprised that his lips cracked into a large smile and he laughed. A light, beautiful sound that so rarely escaped him did, filling up their table as he shook his head ever so slightly.

“Well, I wasn’t born this way,” he finally made out, letting the last few laughs leave him. “I used to be horrible. Ran down after lessons in the winter, stripping off clothing and playing in the snow with a bunch of the guys in nothing but our underwear. Then, after a certain speeding race…” He trailed off, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Nick got in the accident. So I grew up.”
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