This is an rp between Dissociative_Dreamer and Mira-Charma13

Dull, gray Tuesdays used to be the kind of days that would bear multitudes of various fruits of creativity for Miration Ceinlys, a pianist and singer. Lately, however, his creative well had run dry...

Mira could no longer pen beautiful lyrics, soothing tunes...or even write in his journal, which he used to try and kick himself into gear on slow writing days. Worse yet, he hadn't touched his piano in over a month. The neglected instrument lay sitting in his room, dust collecting on the keys.

Normally, he wouldn't venture out into public without a good reason...but today, he just needed to wander and try to get his mind off of his impending doom as a musician. So here he was, in the seemingly torrential rain, walking through town in nothing but a cheap black overcoat, an old gray sweater, a tattered blue scarf, and some beat-up dress pants. He usually paid more attention to his clothes...but he couldn't bring himself to care today.

When he could no longer bear the chill of the rain, Mira surrendered to his tired legs and took refuge in a nearby cafe, rubbing his arms, teeth chattering.

Work was hard, what with everything going on with his coworkers right now. Lisa was pregnant and frequently had to leave for baby reasons, Martin was diabetic and had a bad habit of almost having a sugar coma every day, his boss, Mr. Verneded, often complained of his lack of 'real workers', and always overlooked his one dutiful one; Matthew Rook. The boy did his best to always be at work on time, he tried to pick up the slack of the other workers, and always did the best he could to try and be nice and calm to every customer.

He was a good worker, even if he wasn't a looker like Martin. He had shaggy blond hair that waved and curled at the bottom, a dusty looking gold that shone only in the right light. His eyes were cerulean pools, but hidden behind thickly framed glasses because he was just barely above the blind line. His skin was light and peppered with more freckles than anyone he had ever met, and he wasn't built like a God or anything. His body was scrawny, at best, almost waifish, even if he ate enough to be healthy.

Even on days like today, he stood with a smile behind his post, even nurturing a broken toe. As soon as a well-soaked man came into the cafe, he smiled.

"Hello, sir, welcome to Sugar Sisters! Is there anything I can get you today?" A light accent, something one would expect of a young man born in Vancouver, hit the air and seemed to make everything slightly lighter. If there was one thing people liked about Matthew, it was his voice. It sounded good in both English and French, which he could speak fairly fluently.

Mira nearly jumped a foot into the air, startled by the unexpected voice. He was a tall man...a beast of a man, with a lot of muscle but not so much that it was overwhelming and made him look mutated. He had naturally black hair, and had dyed some parts of it white...oddly enough, it looked like he was wearing a skunk on his head. Somehow, he pulled this off and made it look nice. His eyes, flat and silvery-white, complimented this odd hairstyle.

For a moment, he was stunned--just by the boy's voice. Then, he turned to look at him. An odd rush of emotions fell over him, followed by...

Words. Words, that quickly weaved themselves into lyrics...into stanzas.

"...Coffee...would be nice. Black," he replied, slowly. He seemed shell-shocked by something, and frozen. Then, he quickly rushed to an unoccupied table and whipped out his notebook, which wasn't completely soaked through yet. The pen he always kept with it came next...and he immediately began to write.

Relatively used to the artist types that liked to hang around the cafe, he was used to odd behavior. He did have to say, this one was probably one of the cutest he'd seen lately, but he wouldn't say anything, like he usually didn't. Not that many people paid attention when he spoke, anyway.

Moving to make the coffee like a good boy, he brought it over in a matter of minutes. His uniform was simple; a white button-down with quarter-length sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a dark green apron, a name tag, and brown pants. He wouldn't be the first to say it was like a Starbucks rip-off, but he would admit the coffee was better and just cheap enough to be way better.

"Is there anything else you'd like, sir?" He questioned, giving a cute smile that sat on his face like it was meant to be there. The boy was almost always smiling, and, without thinking, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, setting down the cup with the coffee in it; one of the house cups, looking very much like a dark green coffee mug.

Mira shook his head quickly, ignoring the coffee for now as he wrote. The shock of this sudden burst of inspiration was almost crippling for the man, who hadn't had any sort of creative insight for about a month.

He wrote feverishly for a few minutes, song after song, before his inspiration finally waned down and gave him a break. His arms were shaking a bit from the effort of his hurried writing--his words were a messy scrawl, seeing as he wasn't trying to be fancy.

At this point, he finally scooped up the coffee and drank it. He disliked sugar and artificial sweeteners...he rarely added them to drinks and food unless they were necessary.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Matthew went back behind the counter and took care of a few other normal customers that seemed to come in ritualistically. He saw them every day, and they saw him every day, but they just didn't seem to see each other. The blond was very good with people, but nobody ever seemed to care, simply because he wasn't quite the most popular man on the planet, and he was hardly much to look at.

After the customers were all sat down, it was about time for him to go around with a refresher for those who simply had black coffee. He went from table to table, his hips swishing just a little as he walked, but nothing too noticeable if you weren't watching and really looking for it. He'd bend to pour the coffee into a cup, smile warmly and offer a few words, along with the required 'would you like anything else?' before heading to his next table to repeat his actions. There were only a few who just had the normal, black coffee, and he ended up at Mira's table last.

"Hello, sir. Would you like some more coffee?" He dangled the pot above the cup like he had been taught, offering that cute smile again and really looking at the other, taking in his features and what was in his eyes, doing his best not to blush.

Mira, after finishing his coffee, had started staring off into space, a look of semi-blank confusion dotting his expression. He couldn't understand just what had sparked his inspiration...what had driven him to write so much, in so little time...and after a month-long dry spell.

He was so totally immersed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Matthew, at first. When he did, he stared at him, a blank look in his eyes, for a few seconds before responding. He was still very distracted, and didn't notice the slight, light blush on the other's face.

"...Yes, thank you..." His voice was a low, rumbling drawl that, to his dismay, was overly-appealing to women. He was not fond of women...he had few female friends.

Sadly, this voice was also fairly attractive to Matthew. His eyes went a little wide and he looked away, licking his lips. Thankfully, his glasses did a fairly good job at hiding his eyes. Pouring the coffee after making sure that he had the cup and not this man's lap, he sighed a little bit. He could tell that, once again, he'd been overlooked. It didn't matter that he thought the man attractive, or even that he'd said a word to him at all. It just amounted to what it usually did.

Always forgotten, a shadow in the background, Matthew was the middle child in a family of three boys. His oldest brother was something akin to a rocket scientist, with above-average brains and normal-sized biceps. The youngest rook was the football champion; a freshman in high school and the only one allowed on the varsity team. Tyler had practically become captain he was so good, and Torrence was earning millions of dollars a day working on space robots. The best Matthew could do was playing six or seven different instruments, speak three different languages fluently, and spout off any and every constellation he could see in the sky. He went to huge band competitions with huge solos, he had pins covering his letter jacket from band accomplishments, and yet that still wasn't enough for his parents. Tyler and Torrence were their prides and joys... He was the child left on the back-burner because his skills weren't "important". As if kicking a hand-egg was important.

Once the coffee was poured, he turned and tried his best not to look too dejected as he headed back behind the counter to soak his sadness in Chai Tea Latte. After all, they were allowed one free venti drink each day, well, Matt was, because he worked nearly eight hour shifts just about every day, because he tended to work for people more often than not. He managed to pause before he got there and turned.

"If you need anything else, just ask. My name is Matt." With that, he was off.

"My name is Miration. Mira is fine. Thank you for the coffee..."

Miration was slowly but surely recovering from the shock he'd experienced when he first stepped into the cafe. He seemed a tad less flustered, and more composed. He would be shaken for a few more days, but his composure had been regained, and he was feeling much better.

Mira sipped at his coffee for a few moments, slipping off into his mind for another few minutes. Fans of his music always complained about his being single, and his constantly turning down offer after offer for dates and gifts from hopeful dreamers. He didn't like relationships or commitment...he'd had problems in the past, and was now wary of growing too close to other people.

Unfortunately, this way of feeling and thinking made him more antisocial than most people. His inner creative well was screaming at him to stand up and approach Matthew...but his paranoia would not allow him to do so. He did, however, keep glancing in the boy's direction.

Just knowing his name was good enough for Matthew. The dejection in his step had completely hit a stop and he'd started in on his normal cheerful self. It was almost as if he was perfectly happy once more, and he didn't mind being unnoticed otherwise.

That was, until he found that Mira was watching him every so often. Part of him wanted to go to him, to see him, to find out what would happen if he went over, sat down, and tried to hold a conversation with him. Part of him was terrified of that idea, because it didn't know how he would react. Especially to someone like him. After a little while, he decided to at least go check if he needed more coffee, and headed about his last rounds before coming back to him.

"Hey, Mira...um...want another refill? It's on the house until you leave, donc, ne vous inquiétez pas du coût." Sometimes, he didn't realize he'd slipped into French. It was something that, up until last year, he had spoken almost every day.

(( "Donc, ne vous inquiétez pas du coût." - "So don't worry about the cost." ))

Mira was semi-fluent in French. He could speak Italian and, strangely enough, both Old and Ecclesiastical Latin fluently. French, Spanish, Swedish, and Russian were his other languages. He could speak basic forms of all four of those languages.

He perked up when Matthew returned. For some reason, whenever he looked at the boy, something in him stirred. It was almost like every time he glanced at him, he heard and saw that cheesy 'Holy Hallelujah' sort of scene, complete with music in his head and an awed feeling.

"Sure." Mira set his cup down--it was nearly empty. He seemed a little fidgety--the place was crowded...and he didn't like being around a lot of people all at once.

Having grown up in a French speaking home, it was his first language, but his parents were American (for the most part), so he ended up speaking both, one as fluently as the other. His other language was Chinese, because of the large population of them in his home town.

Seeing that perk, the usually forgotten boy almost grinned like the Cheshire cat. Nobody ever missed him that much at all! He could definitely feel an odd draw to this man, wanting desperately to get to know him in order to have someone spending time thinking about him. But he was a customer, and that just wasn't right to hit on him if he didn't want it, right?

"You're looking sorta jittery...would you like something to eat to balance out the coffee?" He questioned, head tilting a little as he chewed his lip, the simple pull of the lightly pink skin being tugged between those teeth something endearing in and of itself. He seemed like a nervous lip-biter, if nothing else, but it was something that was somewhat cute on him. And...now was his chance. "I get off work in ten minutes and I know this really good but fairly cheap Chinese place a few blocks from here...?" He prepared himself for a turn-down, but...a smile never hurt.

Mira almost sighed in relief. He was hoping that Matthew, if he even wanted to, would make the first social move. Inexperienced as he was with being social, he was prepared to let that go if he could get to know this boy, who seemed to be a new muse for him.

"...I would enjoy that," he said, finally. His smiles were rarely real smiles...just a slight upward quirk of his lips. A crooked smirk, something his more dedicated fans swooned over. "It is on me, though...I will pay..." he added, warily. He didn't want to make Matthew waste his money on him...

He worked on finishing up his coffee before it was time to leave. Stealing a quick glance at Matthew, he peeked outside and was relieved to see that the rain had let up, though it was still quite gloomy out.

Oh, boy, did Matthew want to. He wanted so desperately to have someone actually talk to him that... His brain was hooked on this man. Not in a way that would, hopefully, be deemed creepy, but.. Just the little bit of attention so far made him giddy. His heart swelled, clenched, swelled, clenched, almost so many times it was painful, but he didn't even care. His brain had floated off on a white cloud and found a sacred ground wherever it had landed.

"Alright...if you want." He nodded, glad he didn't have to pay for he lacked very much money. It was a decent idea, now, to try and decipher his own feelings the last ten minutes of work. He figured it was just that he was being shown some kind of regard from someone, that had to be it. When he finally got off, he headed straight for Mira's table after hanging up his apron.

"I have to go in my uniform...is that okay?" And he didn't have a car, either, he had to walk here from home every day. "...and is Chinese okay? I know a couple other places..."

Mira finished up his coffee during this time, and managed to pen down a few lines for another possible song in his notebook. Once Matthew approached, he stood up, promptly, from his seat.

"I don't mind what clothing you decide to go in...also..." Mira held out his hand. In it was the money for the coffee, and a ten-dollar tip. He usually tipped high if the service was good...he had money to burn. Besides writing music, he also penned poetry and had a book out.

"Here...and Chinese is fine," he assured him, softly. People often took him as a gentle giant, though sometimes he could be downright nasty to people...he would never hurt a fly, unless that fly hurt him or someone he loved first.

"Oh..." Rubbing his neck, he shook his head, "Don't worry about it, I paid for the coffee..." He smiled cheerily up at the other, hoping it wouldn't offend him. "After all...you didn't pay when you got in, so I just...did it for you." It wasn't a problem, though, he was used to helping people out like that.

"Thank you, though." He took it gently, hand shaking a little as he turned to look outside. "Looks like we may be able to walk without drowning...I hope you don't mind. I don't own a car..." Even if both of his brothers did. He doubted his parents even knew he had a license. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thump. THUD. "But I have a bus pass..."

What a great way to impress someone. 'I don't have a car, but I do have a bus pass!' He must have sounded like a total nerd. Closing his eyes as he led the way towards the door, he sighed some to himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. No wonder why he never spent time with people, he had no knowledge of how to talk to them.

"I do own a car. I simply didn't bring it...I wanted to take a walk. Clear my mind...relax." That wasn't entirely true, but it was about as true as Mira was going to admit right now. Once he knew Matthew better, he would start talking a little more informally with him.

Mira didn't seem to think any less highly of him, even after his 'nerdy' statement. Instead, once they were out the door, he walked side-by-side with him, not quite sure where this Chinese place was to begin with. He was oddly quiet...mostly because he did not know what to talk about.

Socially awkward was a light term compared to what he was.

Oh, that was so cute! They could be socially awkward together, in the corner, where nobody else would notice how awkward they were! It was perfect!

"Ahh...it's an awfully gloomy day for a walk, but that isn't bad at all. I like walking in the rain, too...sometimes I take my little brother's dog with me, and we play Frisbee in the park. We don't live far from it, and he never takes Monster out, anyway. I swear, poor thing just sits in the house and never does anything if I don't take him out. I guess...I'm the least busy out of all of my family, because I always have to do things for everyone else, anyway..." And it was the truth.

The second truth seemed to be that, when someone was listening to him, Matthew didn't stop.

"He's my brother's dog, but he really should be mine. I take more care of him, I wake up at two in the morning to take him out to pee, I'm always home to walk and play with and feed him when I'm not at work, I don't usually do anything other than work and school and band..."

Fittingly enough, Mira was more of a listener than a talker. So he was content to listen to Matthew as he spoke, nodding and occasionally adding small points of insight.

"I'm afraid I could never own a pet, myself. I don't have the time or the patience...I used to own a small papillon, but he died a few months ago," Mira commented, absently. Pets? Get outta here. Mira wasn't allergic or anything, but he didn't like having animals in his super-clean house. It was a pet peeve of his...pet hair, among other little presents he knew pets were fond of leaving in the house, drove him nuts.

He seemed to enjoy listening to Matthew. Being a quiet, reserved sort of person, he rarely sought out social contact. For example, he had refused to attend his high school prom, claiming there was nothing to do there but dance and be social.

"Aww...I'm sorry. I kind of wish my cat would die. Gustav is kind of...mean. He always seems to forget that I'm his owner, and he'll bite me if I'm not careful. Monster treats me much better, even if he leaps up on my bladder in the middle of the night. He's a boxer, so he's really heavy. I love him, though, because he pays attention to me... I'm not exactly the most... Um...known person in my house. Compared to my brothers, I don't do many important things." He paused, almost irritatedly adding, "However, I don't quite see how mashing my head into sweaty, buff men over a hand-egg is important." Because he just couldn't see American football as football; he'd been around so many people who hardly recognized it as a sport that he was confused on it. After all, soccer was easy to call football because it was "foot" to "ball". Football? It looked like an egg and you barely kicked it, handling it, instead, with your hands. Hence, "hand" to "egg".

"Oh...but I'm not really too upset about it. I've never been in the limelight with my family, I don't even think half of them know what my name is... I ended up having to live with my aunt for about...twelve years because when I was six, I came home from school one day and my parents had moved with my brothers. I called Aunt Chelle and she came and got me. I only recently came home because my parents finally realized they were missing a son...because Torrence wanted to know if I'd be able to house sit for him while he went to Winnipeg for vacation. They ended up sending Tyler up to do it, and I got in trouble for him messing everything up..." But such was his life.

"Don't even get me started on football." Mira quickly abandoned the subject, but his scathing tone said enough in his defense--he hated football. He had never been fond of any sport, whatsoever...from football to soccer, hockey to swimming. He hated them all.

"Ah...at least, you have a family..." Mira offered, as some sort of comfort. "The only member of my family that I remember was my mother. I was a rape baby...my father was my mother's rapist. She couldn't stand to look at me, or care for me...she instead gave me up, and I was passed through several different foster homes...in a nutshell, I was forced to grow up a bit more quickly than the average child. I had taught myself to drive by the age of ten."

That tone let him know to keep it dropped, but he certainly didn't mind. He nodded vaguely, closing his eyes and not really minding letting that conversation slide. Life had many different roads and he wasn't into the sporty ones.

"Mmm...it's not much of a family. Only my real mom and my little brother and Monster care about me. And they cut my laptop off from the internet again, so I can't talk to mom..." He sighed, "I wasn't really meant to exist, either. I was the unplanned pregnancy of my dad's old Canadian high school girlfriend. Four years into his and Tyler's mom's marriage." He'd had to be somewhat independent, as well, finding other things to do instead of what he was meant to. "They don't even pay enough attention to me to send me to school... I can only read and write in French and Chinese because of my real mom."

Mira cleared his throat, while they walked. "I am fluent and literate in many different languages. If you would like to read and write in English...one of my foster siblings, from long ago...he can teach you. He is a genius by his own right--academically, anyway...he's a very innocent person when it comes to how the real world works. I suppose you could call him a hippie? He lives a few miles away...I could give him a call..."

This seemed to be the only 'family' he really had, in his mind.

"I don't mind learning...I just think it's funny to try and have my brothers try and read my letters. They usually call me to ask me what I wrote... But that's okay, I can learn English. I mean, I can speak it, at least, that helps a little bit." Enough that he could actually communicate in America. After having lived far off in Vancouver for so long, he really had little to no English experience. Coming to America had been a big shocker for him, but he'd ended up doing a very good job of his English crash-course with his little brother.

"As long as I learn the alphabet better...I'm still better at the French one."