What goes up [Demetrio/Nik]

[Demetrio Fortuna]

There were times when his job got too much for him to handle and he needed to find a way to relax. He didn’t want to watch other people dance; for that was his own job and he didn’t want to watch others debase themselves to clear his head. He didn’t want to listen to the singers at the Casino either; they wouldn’t get rid of his stress, plus too many people there would recognize him… at least the regulars would. So that led him here, to the place where he knew he could escape even for a little bit. A way for his problems and the world to seem that much smaller, if even for a little bit of time. He knew he only had himself to blame, he was the one to take the undercover job at the Casino, waiting for the right time, gathering information an secretly passing it onto his superiors, but he knew that he would be at this job for years before anything came of it. Sometimes, he just had to find a way to let himself forget he lived a double life, remember that he could relax. Looking up, he smiled. This would get him plenty of distance away from his problems, at least for a little while.

Stepping carefully in line, he smiled as a light breeze blew through and his brown jacket fluttered in the breeze. It was a cool night, but not cold, just enough for a light jacket. His black pants accented the jacket and a bit of a cream colored shirt was visible above the neck of the jacket. He didn’t notice how he dressed most of the time, just that he was trying to blend in with the rest of the crowd. Waiting his turn for his chance to get on the machine, he sighed when he finally was allowed into a carriage with another person. Looking out the window, he watched the water waving gently with the breeze, light ripples danced across the top. Eyes shifting to the trees, the branches waved gently, in a calm motion that beckoned one to relax with their easy movements.

Looking over at his carriage mate, he quirked an eyebrow as his eyes noticed the white knuckles an the faint stress lines between his eyebrows. To others he might look like he was perfectly calm, but Demetrio had years of lessons and practice reading people for clues.

“A little stressed there pal? No worries, this is perfectly safe and sturdy.”

[Niklaas de Vries]

It was official; Niklaas worked with the biggest douche bags in London. They had come up with the grand idea of betting a man with fucking acrophobia that he couldn't ride the London Eye. Niklaas being, well, himself was too stubborn to turn down any sort of challenge. ...That, and there were fifty pounds on the line. He had made sure to not have anything to eat catching the tram to Lambeth, but still felt his stomach twist into knots when he saw how unbelievably massive the ferriswheel was. The tiny, frail remains of the boy that he used to be shrieked in terror somewhere in the back of his mind, and the Dutchman shook it away harshly. He was a grown ass man now, not a crybaby kid who ran to his mother whenever he was scared. He took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly through his nose. He was just psyching himself out standing there staring at the damn thing. Best to get it over with, punch Richard in the face for his stupid “shock therapy” idea, and then collect his fifty pounds. Right. Easy.

When he was allowed into the carriage, he could already feel whatever confidence he had built up start to slip away. He sat hunched on his knees, drumming a frantic rhythm into the floor with the heel of his foot, and his fingers were so tightly laced together the knuckles were probably turning white. Godverdoeme het, he needed to stop doing stupid shit just because people told him to.

His head snapped up at the sound of the other voice comforting him, and he disguised his discomfort with a frown and a scoff, “hardly.” Niklaas replied curtly, for one of the few times in his life not trusting his tongue to say anything else. It was probably best that he didn't talk much anyway. Just don't look down when the damn stupid carriage reached the top. Right. Good. Easy. The carriage lurched as the Ferris wheel started, and Niklaas felt his stomach lurch right along with it. Fuck him sideways, this was going to be horrible.

ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN

[Demetrio Fortuna]

Taking in the blond hair that stood straight up that could only be from hair gel; Demetrio knew it would be interesting to see what man this did for a living. Moving down from the hair, it was too dark to see the color of his eyes, the way he was avoiding looking at him, but he could make out a scar on his forehead. There had to be a story behind it, but really, it wasn’t any of his business and he hated to be that person that poked into a person’s life without asking. Especially with stories that could hurt to tell. Though… the way the man was looking, he knew it would be a good idea to get him talking and his mind off of whatever was bothering him.

It was so obvious that even a child could read this man was uncomfortable. The way his back arched, curling himself into a smaller space, trying to make it looked like he was just annoyed with the whole thing. It would have worked except for the tattoo being sounded against the floor of the carriage and the white knuckles he had previously noticed. If this man had a job as a player in a theatre, he needed more experience… or his money back from whoever his teacher was. Though, he did have the rather longer fingers associated with a piano player, since this man hardly seemed like the type to be a doctor.

“Hardly”

He heard the scoff and the frown and he was tempted to sigh. This man would not make it easy to distract him. Perhaps if he had some interesting piece of information he could get this guy focused on him and get that frown off his face. Actually from what it looked like, he frowned more than he smiled. While Demetrio knew that he didn’t smile much, his face was neutral a lot, but it wasn’t a frown. But perhaps that would help him.

“Did you know it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile? But.... it doesn't look like you need the exercise either.”

Of course this was said with the neutral expression on his face, well, one more of curiosity really, but it wasn’t a smile either.

[Niklaas de Vries]

On the one hand, this guy butting into his business was annoying as hell. Even if he did see through Niklaas' facade, couldn't he see he didn't want to talk right now? On the other hand, a reflexive glance outside reminded him that they were steadily gaining altitude. The realization hit Niklaas as hard as a fist to the stomach, and he bit back a shudder. If nothing else, he had the foresight to not eat anything before attempting this dumb-ass stunt.

“Did you know it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile? But.... it doesn't look like you need the exercise either.”

The Dutchman looked up at his companion with a blank look. Christ almighty, if he had a pound for all the times he heard that, he could probably buy a nice dinner and one of those fancy cakes for dessert. What good did smiling do him, or anyone? Smiling didn't draw in the crowds, and it sure as hell didn't keep his family (if it could even be called that anymore) from being as fucked up as it was.

“Anyone can fake a smile,” Niklaas pointed out flatly. “What does it even matter?” He leaned back in an attempt to look more casual, back straight with one leg crossed over the other knee. Unfortunately his fingers refused to untangle themselves, but better that than fiddling with the loose threads of his clothing. He took a moment to examine the man across from him, anything to distract him from the gentle rocking of the carriage. Tanned skin, probably spent a lot of time in the sun, hair tied back into a ponytail (he needed to cut it, seriously), and his accent...Spanish? No, no, not quite. Similar, but with a different cadence that Niklaas couldn't put his finger on at the moment.

“Why do you even care? Do you make a habit of giving life advice to random strangers?”

ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN

[Demetrio Fortuna]

"Anyone can fake a smile"

So they could, and truth be told, Demetrio had many times during the course of this working career at the casino. He had to master many skills to keep from being found that he worked for the government. But it also helped that he was known for blank faces otherwise, a nice neutral expression when not working when a long way to helping his own sanity. This man though, he didn’t seem to realize that yes, even of smiles were fake, it would help in the long run with many things. Like tips for example. Make people think you were smiling at them and they were more than willing to part with their pounds. Also if you fake a smile long enough, it had been shown to help with your mood.

"Do you always give out life advice?"

Demetrio felt the man's eyes look him over and with this; he let a slight curl to his lips form. If the man wanted to take a conversation as life advice, then the blond was more than free to. Shrugging, he crossed his legs, so his right ankle rested on top of the other knee, and he contemplated. This man was very interesting… also seemed to be likely to try to pick a fight… though Demetrio didn’t know if this man did it on purpose or not.

"Just trying to chat. Not every day I meet a man who's hair looks like it would stab someone, though it looks soft enough I would enjoy it. Though a fake smile can usually get the ladies spending.... and the gentleman too sometimes.... if you know what I mean"

A wink was thrown in the man’s direction..... He realized he really needed to get a name. It was hard to think of him without a name to go with the face.

"Call me Demetrio by the way, Deme for short, though I pretty much answer to anything reasonable."

[Niklaas de Vries]

He was about to defend his hair (it was in style back in the Netherlands; not his problem if people here didn't get that), but bit it back with a confused sound. If he didn't know better, he was being hit on. Or maybe this guy was just overly friendly-- maybe even both. Niklass made a dismissive sound and looked away,

“Someone who throws money at a fake smile isn't worth the time. Most times they're--” The carriage shook to a stop at the peak of the wheel, and Niklaas out a hand against the wall to steady himself.

Why did we stop? Why did we stop? Fuck, shit, piss and balls....

If he wasn't having a mental panic attack, he probably would have realized the carriage had stopped to give the people at the top a view from the highest point. It was probably a lovely one at that, but the Dutchman was too busy trying not to imagine the carriage snapping off its supports and falling from this height. He took in a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. If the man across from him decided to laugh, he could just go and fuck himself. Laughing at someone's phobia wasn't funny. “Niklaas.” He managed to say. He reached into his pocket for a pack of smokes, hoping to relieve some of the stress. So what if smoking wasn't allowed on the ride? He needed this, damn it. “My name is Niklaas. Some of the guys at work call me Nik.” He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in between his lips with trembling fingers. “Call me whatever you want. I don't care.” He bit down on the filter and glared daggers at the tiny little lighter in his hands as it refused to spark. “Hoerenjong, come on.” He growled in between his teeth.

ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN