____ WIDE EYED.

you fit me better than my favorite sweater.

The plane landed with turbulence shaking him awake, anxiety rising in his throat, barely able to contain a squeak of surprise. Sincidy was not new to flying, but he much prefered his tour bus than this. There were few things that bothered him, heights were certainly one of those things. The man had kept his gaze down the entire landing, even as he slipped through the massive jam of people. He loathed airports, couldn't stand the smell of body odor and fled as quick as could be. It was, as usual, he was late to his first appointment in the city of New York — the city for big shots, for important people. He had waited for this day for quite some time. Long enough that he worried, heavily, over the thought of being late. This was not the day of recording nor opportunity, however. It was a day of reconciliation, because the decision to pack up and leave was quite recent. In truth, being in Las Vegas alone was a bore. Twenty somethin' years the two men had been friends, how could they let distance tear them apart? Yes, it was more than the music and the rising fame. It was brotherhood, father ship. Sincidy bit his tongue, jerked into reality, staring into the sea of cars. If his parents had done right, his precious '63 Thunderbird would be awaiting in the parking lot. The lanky man took slow steps over the wet pavement, blue eyes searching restlessly for the car. He had faith in finding it, he didn't believe his parents would screw him over like that.

This was his present for recovering from the accident a mere six months ago. His fixed up baby, and a free ride to New York, to arrive precisely at 11:00 A.M. It was now ten minutes passed, but Sincidy let all worry wash away, spotting the car and heading in its direction. First conquest of the day: overcome. The second had hardly even begun! The only peace he found was the rev of the cars engine, and the lungsful of smoke he acquired through a lit cigarette. The man pulled the car up to the first exit, stopping a few extra seconds to send a text message to Vincent Crosby, the object of his current desperation and weakness, the best friend he was so lost without. TO VINCENT: Just landed, on my way to you!

Sincidy hadn't seen any of the band members in months. It had been a shitty time for him, having to take a step back from the one thing he always loved. What remained of that was little. Sleeping Patterns was big in their scene of music, but now the man had to worry about finding inner state members to fulfill the genius of his past. These thoughts always disturbed old scars and threatened new wounds. A nagging, nauseating pain in his chest. This was his chance, he had to make it count. His scrambled mind didn't get any better over the minutes that passed on the way to the bar. Sincidy focused on the road, keeping a half an ear on his GPS. His hands clutched the steering wheel tightly, knuckles becoming whited out with nerves. So quickly had they frayed, and he hadn't the time to patch things up. All the while, his mind hissed; you're late, vehemently. Of course he was not that late. Not something that his friend would notice, right? The man wasn't quite sure, running a hand through his raven locks and relaxing back in his seat. He could allow worry to wash away as quick as it came. He was not the panic kind of guy, always more so calm and collected. This made it easy to come down from the high of angst, the scatter brained façade dropping an instant later. To think about it, Sincidy realized the probability that Vincent would have been late, as well. That was an amusing thought, thinking about him scrambling around to get ready.

All of the anxious thoughts had washed away to the future in which New York offered. Something glamorous in which he could ensure the happiness of his daughter and chase every dream he's ever had. Yes — there was much more to his mind than fame, glory, and sexy woman.

An hour later, the Thunderbird whips from the street and into the parking lot of a bar, set aside from bright lights of the city. It's a back yard setting, something he doesn't expect fully. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. Sincidy searched about for any last minute things he was missing, turning up empty. Vincent, by now, was nested inside and enjoying a jack or two (bless him), unless a reality had made him sober up. The lanky man pondered that thought a moment, sparking up another cigarette was he strolled forth. The air around him was unlike the other men who were sat inside, all looking up at the well dressed man and questioning his presence. Sincidy had dressed in a nice black button down and jeans, simple, classy, to match him. Everyone else was in normal shab for backwoods kinds of men. The man spots Vincent a second later, exhaling a small chuckle and pressing forward. Sincidy slinked closer, resting his hands at the collar of the other mans shirt. "Fancy seeing you here!," Sincidy murmurs coyly, slipping into a seat beside the tanned skin man. "...fancy seeing you at all."

COMPLETE | @vincentcrosby | 916 | YAY

Just like a, lion and you're the queen of the pride

[presto]

there were only a couple of things that could cause vincent anthony crosby physical pain if he thought about them. the first was death, specifically those of annabelle and his parents. he found this particular one to be perfectly normal, something that would have affected any man facing the same thing. death wasn't a pleasant thing and loosing your parents and the mother of your child was even worse. and then you got into the other thing, the one that seemed less likely. something he thought more and more about lately as he fell farther and farther in love with nessie. and that was the falling out he'd had with his best friend, sincidy donahue. it had been a couple months after he'd agreed to join a band with sin and had also agreed to sober up. vince had never thought himself to be attracted to anyone of the same sex. but he was beginning to realize that his feelings for his best friend were definitely becoming more than friendly. it had confused him, left him in a place where he felt more alone than he ever had before. because of course, sin had a girl. he had autumn and he was happy. and when vince had finally mentioned his feelings to his best friend, things had gone awry. he wasn't sure if sin didn't feel the same, didn't want to feel the same, or was just disgusted by the idea, but sin had rejected him. for the first time since meeting his best friend, there was a wall thrown up between them that seemed impossible to cross. just friends didn't seem like a logical option to vince, but it seemed like thats what sincidy had expected from him. so vince had jumped on the first plane away from vegas and made himself a new life, starting with joining a local band. imagine that, vince had made himself a mini celebrity in new york city. that was an accomplishment if he ever knew one.

it had all turned out to be so much more difficult than he ever thought. he'd had very few things in vegas but the things he did have meant the world to him. leaving sin had been heartbreak enough. thankfully, a new city left him with enough distractions to avoid the idea of his friend. setting up a new life from scratch had proven to be difficult. once the money from selling his childhood home came in, he'd bought a small house for himself and cadence. the rest came in blurs. he hypothesized that this had more to do with the pain of the memories than his inability to remember. vince was well known for his bad habits back in habits, habits that he'd since worked on crushing till they didn't exist. but when he heard his former best friend was coming to new york, it didn't seem to hard for him to revert back to those habits. which was probably why he'd left his own house and made his way to the nearest bar. it was probably more of a restaurant than a bar. since finding out about the baby - the one that was now buried in the cemetery next to his mother - vince had forced himself to give up drinking. his new addiction seemed to be soda. sometimes it would hit vince just how tame he'd become. there was a time when his wild nature was just steps away from the hospital, even going so far as to put him in the hospital. the scars on his wrists were thin white lines, barely noticable unless you knew they were there. the drink in his hands fizzed and popped, but was not beer or vodka. this particular drink had been spiked with vodka, if only because he needed to take the edge off of his emotions, but generally his drinks were lacking in alcohol. yes, his lifestyle no longer included pressing his sweaty body against some random woman or putting his hands places where they probably didn't belong. he never could or would be able to decide if this new lifestyle was better or worse.

if the thought of sincidy alone was enough to raise a throbbing in his chest, then the text he recieved from him was a sharp stab in his heart. his hands tightened around his glass, purposely not looking at the text sincidy had sent. his knuckles were white from clasping his glass and the bartender was giving him strange looks. who knew what vince's face looked like. he could feel it, the way his expression was twisted into a pained face. he hated that anyone could do this to him, but he also knew that if anyone could do this to him, it was sin. vince didn't know what to expect, except for it to take awhile. vince too had thought he could drive in new york. but after taking too long to get to places, he had just given up and gotten into the habit of walking everywhere. he wasn't sure just how long he'd been sitting there, his head in his hands, peeking through his fingers each time the door opened to see if one of them was sincidy donahue. not that he knew how to react when sincidy finally walked through the door. it had been a long time since he'd seen his friend in anything more than just pictures, but there was no way vince could have forgotten that black hair or those eyes or those clothes, or even the way his heart throbbed at the sight of him. vince found himself wishing there was more alcohol thrumming through his blood, giving him the courage to face what was coming. it didn't take very long for their eyes to meet. vince looked away, towards his half full glass. he didn't look up again until he felt a hand on the collar of his shirt. not that he needed to. of course it was sin. well, well, well, if it isn't the infamous sincidy donahue. do you think i could get your autograph, i want to be able to prove that i met you or no one at school will believe. his voice slid over the words easily, giving no sign of the turmoil within. his gaze was wary. perhaps it really had been too long since they'd seen each other, or maybe he still held a grudge against sin for rejecting him, either way his demeanor was cautious. vince wondered if sin would recognize him, if sin would notice the way his eyes seemed ageless in a way that meant loss. vince had never been the wiser of the two, but he felt as though their time apart could have changed it. he'd never put much thought into this before. had their time apart changed vince so much that he was no longer the vince that sin remembered?

[/presto]

And we will feast together till the bones are dry

vincidy at last - 1153 - @whipster1

you fit me better than my favorite sweater.

Sincidy's brows raised at the man, a soft chuckle escaping his pursed lips, something forced from his diaphragm. Even without the chance to see Vincent eye to eye, the tension in the air was suddenly thick enough to cut. The man rubbed his collar bone, leaning onto the bar with his elbows pressed tight, searching desperately for the bar tender. The man behind the counter was busy, so he waved him on and sat back in his seat, pondering to himself. What could he possibly say? Their first meeting since the tanned skin man ran out on the friendship. Even now, sitting inches away, it didn't stop the throbbing in his chest, the soreness or loneliness. It didn't stop the fact that even Autumn had abandoned him. So many things had fallen apart, and it all started with Vince... An inaudible sigh escaped him, clearing his throat to lay his eyes on the other man. A small, forced smile tugged at either side of his lips, which pulled into a tight grin. "If you seriously called me here to get my autograph, you're crazy." Sincidy clicked his tongue and winked, continuing to hum a laugh as the tender finally stepped into view.

The raven haired man shifted his gaze, feeling on spot as the tender questioned what he wanted. He hadn't drank in quite some time, actually... Not heavily since his car accident. But the decision finally came with a wave off to the tender, settling on a traditional rum and coke. Simple, it would not hurt him. A lingering pain crept into Sincidy's chest, his head lifting and eyes turning away from the bar completely, resting on a flat screen across the smoked out bar. Was it supposed to be this hard? He had trashed his feelings for Vincent when he abandoned Sin; when he wouldn't listen to reason, wouldn't give the time needed to collect thoughts and sort emotions, when he ran and left the musician alone to face things alone. All the time in which Sincidy had wasted his time reassuring Vince, to ensure he never experienced something by his lonesome. It had all changed.

Sincidy swallowed the bitterness that was rising with a hard swig of the rum, set in front of him with a clank, and falling back empty. "Why don't you leave the bottle, aye?" He was slightly anxious about that idea. Having an entire bottle there for him to access, but whatever emotions regarding his friend now over powered everything. He wondered what was running through Vince's mind, if he sensed the resentment or sadness, too. It was wrong to blame him for leaving, for not wanting to face what came with rejection... But what about Sin? Everyone always left him.

Everyone forgot he was human, too...

The man sucked in a sharp breath after swigging from the bottle. As he placed it back to the bar, he let a twisted grin cling to his lips. It was the alcohol, the sudden rush of it flowing through his body, making intoxication quick. Sincidy leaned back into the bar, screwing around with the ring on his thumb. He avoided lifting his eyes to anywhere Vincent would be staring, possibly. "I can't stay forever, gotta be to the airport in time to get crazy bitch and Calliope off." He sighed, this time loud enough to be heard. "What's been up, man? How's... how's things been?"

COMPLETE | @vincentcrosby | 569 | YAY

Just like a, lion and you're the queen of the pride

[presto]

vince had pictured seeing his best friend again a lot, but somehow he didn't picture it this way. he couldn't have pictured the gaping chasm between them, they way they both stood on opposite sides. it was too far to jump across, too far too scream across for help. it was a lonely feeling. no matter who came in and out of vince's life, sincidy had always been a constant. they'd grown up together. neither of them would remember a life with out the other. as he took a deep breath, he picked up the smell of cigarette smoke on sin. for a few moments, this smell seemed odd. he'd never been able to smell it before. but that was about when it all clicked together. he hadn't smoked in awhile, he probably didn't smell like smoke anymore, which meant he could smell it. for a moment, he wished he could pick up a cigarette and smoke with sin, go back to their life before he'd moved to new york, before he realized he loved sin. when everything was simple and black and white. but he knew better now. he didn't love sin, not like that. not anymore. his heart was somewhere else, with a blond haired woman who had taken sin's place in his life. as though the thought of her made her think of him, his phone vibrated. it was a phone call, nessie's face on the screen. he pressed the button to send her a message, typing a quick 'i can't talk right now.' the response was a quick one: 'just don't forget, we have dinner later. don't be late please.' vince allowed himself a small smile, despite the tension between him and sincidy. nessie, at least, had not rejected his affections.

sincidy seemed amused by vince's joke about the autograph, a small smile plastered onto his face. it had been awhile, but it looked almost faked. all the more proof that their time apart had made them strangers to each other. if he was being honest with himself, that probably hurt the most. their falling out had been a mistake, if vince could go back in time, he wouldn't have left. but it was too late and vince had a life here, he couldn't just leave new york to be back with sincidy. well i mean, it's not like i brought you here for your company. vince meant it as a joke, but he couldn't muster the smile, couldn't make his voice sound teasing. his gaze looked longingly at the alcohol in front of him. it wasn't that long ago when alcohol had solved all his problems, when he'd drink away his emotions. but that had changed and it would never be the same again. he looked down at the black screen of his phone. i swear, i didn't mean it that way. it was just supposed to be a joke. i'm sorry. how could he be so tactless. but it was then that vince realized something he would never admit aloud. and that was this: their friendship would never be the same again. their lives led down different paths and they were two different people now. he'd have given his left leg up for the chance to be anywhere but here. if sincidy was anything like he remembered, this would probably piss him off. whoofreaking who. but before he had the chance to focus on it too much, sin was taking again, talking about not wasting his time because he had places to be. vince would never know why, but that grated on his nerves. maybe it was because he was bitter about calliope, something he'd never been before. or maybe it was the idea that his best friend would also rather be anywhere but here. well i have a dinner to get to with nessie, so you aren't the only one who has somewhere to be. this time the cruelty in his voice was completely intention, his eyes narrowed. so much for kissing and making up.

but then there was the next question. it was such a casual question, so many people could have answered it without a second thought. but not vince, not right now anyways. how's it been? how's it been?! his voice was still venomous, probably remnants of his earlier irritation. he shook his head. it's been... how exactly did one describe the past few months alone? annabelle hadn't even been dead for two months, he still found himself curled up in a ball in his closet, crying so no one could hear him. but there was also nessie, the joy he felt every time he stood in her presence. he closed his eyes, the memories flashing through his eyes. annabelle's cold smirk, followed by nessie's warm smile and the wagging of cadence's tail. all things that made him happy. but they were followed by the bad, always followed by the things that never ceased to make him cry. annabelle's blank lifeless gaze, staring at nothing. the cemetary, with a single headstone and a single plaque that read annabelle lee di michele and juliette sophie di crosby, respectively. he would visit their graves often after the funeral, still apologizing profusely for killing them. and always, always, there was the feeling of missing the man who now sat next to him at the bar. he didn't realize he was crying until he felt the tear slide down his cheek. it's been hell. he whispered, shaking his head again. there were times i considered going back to vegas. it was still a whisper, barely audible in the noise of the bar. he wiped the tear off his cheek, ignoring the fact that it was followed by another. the vince that sin probably remembered would have sooner drank himself to death before he cried in public. but then, things had changed since then. neither of them were the same anymore. and vince couldn't find the words to tell sincidy about annabelle and about juliette. maybe he was crying, but that would leave him a weeping mess. he couldn't do that here, couldn't do that now. and to tell sin about falling in love, about how happy she made him just seemed silly.

[/presto]

And we will feast together till the bones are dry

Oops feels - 1040 - @whipster1

[/quote]