To Escape an Awkward Moment (Open)

[Niklaas de Vries]

It seemed like the universe was conspiring to keep Niklaas as out of options as possible today. Alright, that was a huge over-exaggeration, but still. He had rode back to his flat, let Nijntje out of her cage so she could stretch her legs out, took a shower, and changed into a nice suit jacket and slacks in preparation of working at the Vortex for as long as they needed him. Turns out they didn't need him. Period. It seemed like nobody needed the club-hired musician for the night, since the entire schedule was booked up by no-name bands either trying to get their footing in the musical world, or just trying to earn some extra cash on the side. Either way, Niklaas wasn't needed, and unless Michael the Bartender suddenly suffered a spontaneous heart attack, that position was filled too. In short: the afternoon after leaving the Three Tomatoes just served to waste his time and annoy him.

Michael suggested that the Dutchman just get himself a girlfriend in a “nonchalant” fashion as he casually slid the Dutchman's drink to him. He was an okay guy, Michael, but a little too obsessed with the idea of a relationship. Hell, if you asked him if he knew the answer to life and the universe, he'd probably reply with “finding a relationship”. It was almost sad that a guy so adamant about love and relationships couldn't hold down a girlfriend for more than a few months, but that wasn't Niklaas' business anyway.

After a while he found himself at the Scribble, a cute little bookstore that had a pleasantly antiquated feel to it. Tile floors, oak booshelves; it almost felt like he had stepped back in time a couple decades or so. Maybe this was what he really needed; something quaint as a way to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Away from the horrible London traffic and constant buzz of chatter and gossip the citizens made about things he could give less of a shit about. And, wow, he was starting to sound like an old man. Jesus Christ.

The most popular selections were the most stereotypically English things in the world; Harry Potter, Sherlock Holmes, Shakespeare. Nothing against those titles, of course, since Harry Potter was a guilty pleasure and he did enjoy the story of Hamlet. Sherlock Holmes, on the other hand, was a too needlessly verbose for the sake of showing off how intelligent the titular character was. It didn't appeal to the Dutchman that much, so he casually skipped over the entire section dedicated to the series. The darker tales of Emilie Bronte were more his style, honestly, actually showing the darker side of romance. Honestly, romance was so full of mushy-gushy “steamy” erotica (and vampires for some reason) that it was disgusting. Maybe he would rectify that himself one day... maybe. As it was, the market wasn't looking for a realistic portrayal of a romantic relationship, that wasn't “exciting” enough. Unless the greater majority of romance fans got their hands out of their pants and realized that they were reading was utter shit, any ideas he might have would get shot down. But, que sera, sera.

He ended up picking out an unassuming little poetry book from one of the shelves, an anthology by the looks of it. He didn't recognize any of the author's names, but maybe it was better that way. The bigger names tended to vary in the quality of their work, not really being allowed to work outside the little box that their fans preferred. Shrugging his shoulders, Niklaas slipped on his reading glasses (he never left the flat without him, since he had to hold things obnoxiously close to his face otherwise) and began to leaf through the little book casually.

ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN

[Deleted]

There was just enough time between his last class and work for Nico to go to the bookstore, pick up his new textbook and read ahead a couple chapters. He had been looking forward to this for a while, being able to read ahead of the lessons again would be nice. That way, he could sufficiently cement his knowledge of the material in class. His previous textbook had been unfortunately left behind the last time he studied in the public library. By the time he realized it was missing, it was long gone. No reports of missing books had reached the librarians and a thorough search of the study areas proved fruitless. So, with a heavy heart, he began to save up his extra funds until he could buy a new one. Sure the rental copies at the school bookstore were much cheaper, but what if he needed to refer to the material again once the class was over? It just made much more sense to buy a brand new copy to keep.

The end of class couldn't come quick enough. Nico had tucked away most of his supplies in the last five minutes so he could leave the classroom as soon as his professor stopped lecturing. Luckily the bookstore he was going to wasn't too far from his campus.

The Scribble was nice in that it always had everything that he needed. Since it was pretty small, he never needed to look too far to find what he came for.  Plus, it always smelled like old books in there and that was a great bonus. After taking a second to breathe the air, he set out to get what he came for. It was pretty easy to find, so he decided to look around for a little bit longer. As he wandered the different sections, he came across another man reading. Usually he would have just looked away, but this person looked so familiar that he couldn't help but stare a little bit. He tilted his head to the side, trying to get a bit better of a view of his face through his glasses. "Excuse me... Have we met before?"

[Niklaas de Vries]

“..Have we met before?”

That was an odd question, particularly to ask someone who you ran into in a bookstore. With a quirked eyebrow, Niklaas looked at the young man who had asked,. Well groomed, well dressed, in something that looked way too expensive; seemed to be some wealthy kid studying abroad in London. On mommy and daddy's money, no doubt. Even still, the kid's features reminded Niklaas of his mother. Then again, a lot of people had a similar facial structure to the late Beatrix van Rosenfeld. Chances were it didn't mean a goddamn thing, and he felt stupid for even vaguely making the connection.

“Have you?” He questioned, licking a finger and flipping a page idly. This poetry was alright. Nothing fantastic, but nothing that made him scoff and roll his eyes. For the most part, anyway. “Depends on whether or not you come to the Vortex very often.” He turned away from his book to look the young man over. He could recognize the faces of regular patrons well enough (some better than others for obvious, personal reasons), but this kid drew a complete blank. Despite the odd feeling of seeing him somewhere, that annoying feeling of having someone's name on the tip of your tongue, but not knowing it exactly. But it was entirely possible he was over thinking this. “A strange question to ask a complete stranger, don't you think so?”

ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN

[Deleted]

Now that he was looking at Nico directly, he looked even more familiar. The unimpressed glance over he received wasn't anything new to him, but it gave him a strange sense of nostalgia. It was hard to keep from fiddling with the textbook in his hands. Just how did he know this man? He was getting so much deja vu just from standing here and hearing him speak. It didn't seem like he was alone either. Most people would have just brushed off an encounter like this if they didn't recognize the other person at all.

"A strange question to ask a complete stranger, don't you think so?"

Nico could feel his ears heat up a little at that. He of all people should know better than to disturb someone reading in a bookstore. "Sorry, I should introduce myself first. I'm Nico va-- .... Nico Lorentz," he flashed a quick smile, wondering why he had had a sudden urge to use his old family name. "I can't say that I've ever been inside the Vortex though... I don't suppose you visit the casino often?"

However, he didn't look like any of the customers who frequented the Fortuna Magnus bar and Nico was sure that he wouldn't want to speak to any of those regulars outside of work. Hopefully he actually knew this guy, otherwise this would be a highly embarrassing encounter.

Suddenly he was struck with the horrifying realization that maybe, just maybe this man thought that Nico was flirting with him.  Perhaps that's what he meant by the 'complete stranger' comment earlier.  Was that supposed to be a hint that he should get lost?  To think, he had just obliviously gone on and introduced himself instead!  What kind of idiot does something like that?  The urge to clarify his intentions nagged at him, but that would most likely just make everything that much more awkward, so he kept silent.

[Niklaas de Vries]

Nico Lorentz... Niklaas' eyebrows creased slightly at the name. He had an aunt with that surname, and a brother with that name... coincidence? The clues were piling up against it, but still, you can't just ask declare that you think someone's your missing little brother because they shared a name. That was an incredibly stupid thing to do. That, and it would probably just make the other person think he was out of his mind. Your previous occupation proves it enough on its own. The more pessimistic part of his mind reminded him flatly, and Niklaas frowned at it. The man he was in the past was dead and buried. The only things he brought to London was his final paycheck, a few sentimental items, and his birth-given name.

"Niklaas de Vries," he started. “And I can't say I've been, no.” The Dutchman said as his clapped the book closed and put it back on the shelf. He couldn't read if someone was playing twenty questions with him. “I don't believe in luck, and I'd rather not lose my money because of one bad dice roll or dealt hand.” He did indulge in a few rounds of poker in the back rooms of the Vortex, but he and his co-workers usually bet frivolous items; cigarettes, favors, or anything they had in their pockets at the time. One or two people had offered that Niklaas risk his trademark scarf, as a joke, but one glare shut down the offer easily enough. It was starting to show it's age, with the blue fading and the ends fraying slightly. More of a reason why he left it at home whenever he went to work.

He removed his reading glasses and slipped him in his pocket, turning to face the young man completely. “Aren't you a little young to be in a casino?” Unless London had lowered the legal gambling age and he didn't realize it. That, or Nico was older than he looked. Not that he had the right to criticize someone for their shitty life choices.

ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN