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Trent shifts, a little uncomfortable sitting on the floor. "So where are you staying?" he asks after a while. |
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"The Marriott," Vara answers back as the waiter comes back, handing her her White Russian. "Thank you," She says and then takes a drink of it. "Do you live around here?"
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"I have a little apartment, yeah. It's not the greatest place to stay when you're trying to concentrate and write music and the people next door are smoking crack and throwing beer bottles against the wall," he says, laughing a little. |
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Vara laughs. "How punk rock," She says back, downing the rest of the White Russian, and motioning for the waiter to come bring her another one. "I hate to be the person who asks this, but are we on a date?" She says suddenly.
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Trent smiles a little bit and shrugs. "I don't know. If you want it to be a date, it's a date." |
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"That's such a cop out," Vara says with a grin, shaking her head. "No. Be the man. Tell me if this is a date or not. I like the answer either way."
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"Then I guess it's a date," Trent says, as the waiter brings their food. "Thanks," he says as his plate is put before him. "And now that it's a date, I feel bad for making you pay.." he says. |
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"Oh, hush," Vara says, waving Trent off as she unravels her silverwear as the waiter hands her her second White Russian. "I want to pay." She takes a bite of her salad and smiles.
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Trent laughs. "I'm glad you do, because I don't.." he says. "But enough about that. Tell me about you," he says, taking a bite of his carpaccio. He realizes he's eating raw meat and tries to choke it down without making a scene. |
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Vara grins, seeing Trent's distress over the raw meat. "Do you not like carpaccio?" She asks. "Do you want to trade?" Vara giggles and shakes her head. "There's not much to say about me. I'm from Tuscany... My father in a symphony conductor... My favorite color is blue, I like dolphins, and..." She raises up her glass. "I enjoy this. A lot. Your turn. Tell me about you."
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"I'm sure I'll be able to get it down.." he says, laughing. "Well...born in Lake Orion, like you know. Moved here about two years ago. My mom's a nurse, I have no clue where my dad is, I smoke, I used to be a heroin addict, and my favorite color is black," he finishes, and smiles. |
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"Ooh..." Vara's eyes gleam. "Used to be a heroin addict. That sounds like an interesting story." She downs her second glass and waves over for a third one.
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Trent looks down at his plate. "Uh, yeah. My dad was basically the biggest drug dealer in Lake Orion. He left me and my mom when I was like 14. By then I'd already started using pretty regularly. I tried all the rehab and drug counseling shit but in the end I just had to get away from that place so...I moved here." |
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"Well, shit," Vara comments, taking another bite of her salad. Heroin wasn't exactly a heavily used drug in Italy. Hell, drug abuse wasn't even as major a topic in Europe as it seemed to be in North America. Vara is pretty sure she's never even talked to somebody who used to be/is addicted to drugs. She shrugs and keeps chewing. "That's tragic. I'm sorry."
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"Don't be," he says, looking up at her. "I'm sorry. Not really dinner conversation," he says, taking another bite of carpaccio. |
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"No, it's fine," She says back, staring into her salad. She knew that she was what society would call an alcoholic, but she didn't feel like she should bring that up. At least not on the first date. She reaches over with her fork and takes some of his carpaccio with a giggle. "Delicious. Makes me miss my mom."
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He smiles and pushes his plate forward. "I bet your mom makes it better than this. Have the rest if you want," he says, laughing a bit. |
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Vara gives Trent a sad look. "I'm sorry. Maybe this wasn't the best choice of restaurant... Here," She says as she turns to the waiter, who is bringing her her drink. "Can we get one of those huge bowls of bread?" She asks. The waiter nods and walks away. "There." Her eyes twinkle.
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Trent smiles. "Are you trying to fatten me up so you can cook me and eat me or something?" he says, laughing a bit. "I appreciate it, though. I like to be wined and dined before I get cannibalized." |
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Vara giggles. "What's that old German fable about the witch that fattens up the two little children, and then gets pushed into the fireplace?" She asks. "This is basically that, but I'm not old, and you're not a child."
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