Better (Savvy/Tyro)

Hazel paced along the street, kicking along a rock that had caught her eye several minutes ago. It made a rough clicking sound as it scratched along the pavement. As she pulled back her foot to once again propel it ahead of her, her shoe caught on a crack in the concrete, causing her to stumble. She let out a mild curse as she righted herself, surrendering the pebble to its own fate. The sinking sun cast a warm glow over her short brown hair, making it appear almost auburn. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare, checked her watch, and had to stop herself from uttering another profanity. She was scheduled to perform in less than half an hour. Where was he?

Rob had never been the most reliable of friends, but he was the only one she knew at the moment with a vehicle, which meant that she was at his mercy until she could buy another bicycle to replace the one that had been stolen last week. She let out a sigh of relief as his beat-up red Escort finally rounded the corner. She hopped inside, anxious to get to work.

"Where have you been?" she lightly scolded her friend as she fastened her seat belt, "You know I only get to play once a week! If I missed this show, I'd be banished to serving tables for the rest of my life."

Rob rolled his eyes.

"Must you always be so dramatic? It's not like anyone ever sees you play anyway. That's why they give you the stage on Mondays."

"Shut up!" Hazel exclaimed, punching her friend lightly on the arm, "at least it's something. A step up towards my inevitable rise to stardom!"

Rob mumbled something, she presumed an apology, and the two sat in silence until Peig's Pub came into view. Hazel swiftly undid her safety belt, and jumped out of the car, barely waiting for it to come to a stop. She blew a kiss to her friend as she ran off.

"Pick me up at ten," she reminded him, "and don't be late this time!" She took off without waiting for a response. As soon as she was backstage she began unpacking her instrument, the rush of playing in front of an audience already buzzing in her veins.

He gazed through the window at the pub below as Greg crossed the office floor with two empty mugs in his hand. He had made a little spy hole in the drab, grey blind.
"Jed? What you lookin' at?" Greg said, eyeing Jed suspiciously.
"I'm watching the gay bar across the street." Jed replied, never taking his eye off the thick red doors. That struck Greg as puzzling. His brow furrowed to take his ginger eyebrows with it.
"I thought you were married." Greg blurted. "To a girl."
Jed accompanies his annoyed face with his remark: "No yer prat! I sent the new guy over to next door for bottles of Coke." Greg sighs, screwing his face up in shame.
"Is this because Rande stole Yagameth's girlfriend?" Jed's eyes dart towards Greg. The half-closed stare warned of the consequences of questioning him.
"They were always meant to be together, damnit! They were perfect for each other!" That was said with more passion than dignity would otherwise allow. Outside the small office, the rest of the place, people busy typing and drawing away at their cubicals, various plants and action figures visible over the walls, looked up at the loud, sudden out burst.
"Its only a roleplay. You can always go after Ginger in real life." Greg suggested. He was edging towards the empty mug he'd come in for in the first place.

"No, I will exact my revenge on Oscar Makin-Killtire. I will-" The noise of a party balloon farting its way past the open doorway cut him off as Oscar stepped into the room in his red and white converse, sprinkled with confetti. The baggy cargo pants had been smeared with a little cream and someone's drink it seemed. The grey Penny Arcade t-shirt with Tycho's eyes matching Jed's on Oscar, sitting above the phrase "Some people play tennis, I erode the human soul" was dashed with glitter. Brightly coloured feathers has gotten stuck on it. Lastly, he'd got on huge, stupid looking sunglasses with an orange feather boa and a leather police cap on his head. He held the bottles of coke in his arms.

"That was the best party I've ever had to rush through..." Oscar said joyfully, between heavy intakes of breath. "I should go more often."

Hazel stepped out onto the stage, violin in hand. Eyes closed, she took a deep breath. She could feel the warmth of the spotlight on her brow and the eyes of thousands all fixed on her. A cheer rose out of the crowd as her many fans began to chant her name. She smiled brightly, rose her hands above her head, and opened her eyes. . .

A few drunks sat at the bar, eyes fixed on their drinks. A young couple was cuddling in the corner, clearly focused only on their own physicality. She sighed, and took her place in front of the microphone. The only person who was paying her any attention was the bar keep, Brooke, who had been one of her closest friends since she got this job three years ago. She shook her head slightly, and began to play. She chose a bright and cheery tune that she could play in her sleep. It kept the patrons happy without disturbing their conversations. It may not be a solo for thousands, but at least she was playing. Perhaps one day a famous producer would walk in and recognize her genius. She gave a nod to Brook, who returned it with an encouraging smile.

As her fingers flew over the strings, she allowed her mind to wander. Other than her less than enviable career, she was going to have to start looking for a new place to live. She had enjoyed sharing an apartment with her younger sister, but since her dreamy boyfriend had decided to become her dreamy fiancé, she had requested that Hazel move out. It wasn't her fault that she had found 'the one' before her big sister, but it did leave Hazel with a bit of jealousy and the need to save up for a new place. The main problem was the cost. She had barley made rent when she had to split it with Michelle. How would she ever afford a place of her own?

Still trying to remove the caked on glitter from his cheeks as he walks down the corridor. He dumps another wet-wipe in a passing bin before taking off the kinky hat. He suspects that was supposed to be a practical joke but he couldn't see how. He stops just before a door opening and a man in a flowery, blue shirt steps out. He has a long, shaggy head of greying hair looking more like an old sheepdog. The man, heavy stubble across his cheek and chin looks to Oscar, still trying to claw the glitter off.
"Hey!" He said.
"M-mr May, how are you?"
"All right." May said, shugging a little. "I was just here making sure a few lines where what I'd would really say. They seem all right." Oscar nods.
"Good, good."
"What do you do here?"
"I'm a programmer."
"Oh!" May points, a slight grin emerging. "Your the one with the really long name right? Oscar something, something. What was it?"
"Oscar William Patrick Mallard Joseph Makin-Killtire" Oscar said, unsurprised.
"Really? Wow..." May looks at his watch. "I got to get going. Looking at a house near-by."
"I'm looking to."
"A house?"
"Somewhere to live."
"Good luck mate. Plenty of places left." With that, he exits through another set of doors. 'If only I had something James May could sign that wasn't inappropriate' he thought as he looked at the leather police cap still in his hand.

Hazel wrapped up the performance to a smattering of applause, mostly from other employees of the bar. She gave a big smile and bowed anyway before moving back stage to pack up. She locked up her violin case and stood up, slightly startled to find Brooke leaning against the wall next to her.

"I swear, you get better at that thing every night," she said with her usual crooked smile. "I keep waiting to hear that some grand orchestra has snatched you up from us."

Hazel smiled at the compliment, but shook her head. "That would require an opening in such an orchestra, and they're all full up. Trust me, I've looked. Thanks, though. How was business tonight?"

"Not too bad," Brooke responded, shrugging her shoulders, "busy for a Monday but slow as hell anyway. Hey, you got any plans for the night? I wanted to check out some of the newer clubs in town."

Hazel shook her head emphatically. "I have someone picking me up. Besides, you know that's not exactly my scene."

Brooke made a face. "Rob? I guess you can invite him too. You still sleeping on his couch?" Brooke sighed as Hazel nodded. "I know there's some nice places for rent. You're a respectable, clean tenant. How is that it's been two months and you still haven't found anything?"

"It's all about the rent, Brooke," Hazel said slowly. "You know how much I make here, it's not really enough to pay for that, and food, and school."

"Speaking of which," Brooke pulled out a couple of pound notes, "here's your share of the tip jar tonight." She handed it over and continued talking as Hazel put it in her purse. "What about spliting it with someone, the rent, I mean. Surely you're not the only broke person looking for a place to stay. You might even find someone at a club tonight. . ." she trailed off with a smile.

Hazel sighed, "Fine. Let me go grab Rob and I'll meet you outside in five."

Ah! The sad sight of one man with a beer in one hand and a Friday-Ad in the other, scanning through the listings looking for that one place that didn't look like a rat had hit it with a stomach of dynamite. Or was too small. Or too expensive. Or had holes in the floor. Or the ceiling. Or the walls weren't held together with the climbing roses from the front garden and a unique form of mould. Or was actually up for sale. Or wasn't already occupied with squatters. Or wasn't a shed stuck in the mud, with the adjacent river flooding around it. Or recently destroyed in a moonshine accident of unusually apocalyptic proportions.

"You are a colossal moron." An individual said as he flops next to Oscar at the wall, looking like he's in a coffee shop reading the Times. "Three woman I've talked to have said that your either deaf or lost. I mean, how the hell can your read that in-" He was cut off by the music raising to crescendo. Oscar has to try and figure out what Greg is saying from how his mouth moves.
"Violin?!" Oscar barks over the music.
"Yeah! Maybe you to could get to get and dam each other."
"What? Jam don't ya mean?"
"That's what I said. She's better than the Christian Nympho."
"All right...were is she?"

The group of three wandered into the club where the music was nearly deafening. Brooke signaled towards the bar and began making her way in that direction. Rob quickly melted in with the crowd. By the end of the night he would be sharing a room with the hottest guy in the club, she was sure. I didn't even matter if the other man was gay. Rob just had that effect on people. Hazel smiled to herself and shook her head. He never seemed to have a care in the world.

She slowly weaved through the mass of throbbing bodies to join Brooke at the bar. She waved over the bar keeper and ordered a pint of beer.

"Why did we come here?" Hazel yelled at Brooke over the noise, "It's not your usual place!"

Brooke shrugged and gave a guilty smile.
"Actually, there is someone I wanted you to meet. One of my acquaintances knows someone who's looking for a place. Thought you two might could talk!"

"You thought we could talk here?" Hazel hollered. Brooke simply shrugged.

"I didn't choose this place."

"Seriously, this is the place to have a shady goings on, going on." Greg said as the two of them meandered around people towards the new arrivals.
"What are you talking about?" Oscar said, managing just to dodge a woman's accidental flail to his face. She turned, apologising as they sped past.
"This is the ideal environment to unleash the predator. You can net a new girl and a nice flat."
"What? I worry about you! Ever since we came here, I fear your soaking up some of the bender vibe! Its been all work with you! Half-expect you to fart rainbows next."
"Ah, Shut up!" Oscar replied exasperated. He points to Hazel and Brooke. "They just turned up. Is that them?"
"Yeah!" A couple of light, reassuring pats on Oscar's shoulder. "Go get 'er!" Unsure what to expect but definitely ignoring the man that fancies himself a sex coach, Oscar crosses over to the bar.
"I'm looking for someone that's looking for a place to stay?" He barks over the music at Hazel and Brooke. "Do you play-" The rest was drowned under the music. Thankfully, he'd also performed a mime of playing a violin to illustrate himself. Or, with a small board on his shoulder, ironing something in an awkward fashion. One or the other. He points at Hazel, indicating that it was her the mime was for.
"I'm Oscar."

Noticing the two approaching, Brooke seized the opportunity to change the subject.

"Here they come now! Try to be friendly, okay?"

Hazel simply stuck her tongue out at her friend, and turned to face the two men. She cocked her head to the side as one of them began to speak, trying to make out what he was saying. She understood part of it, and inferred more from his pantomiming.

"Hazel," she replied. "It's nice to meet you, Oscar." She shook her head as the music swelled again, drowning her out. She motioned towards the door, indicating that they continue their conversation somewhere quieter.

They slip out into the street. The cobblestones are bathed in a street-light overhead like an incubator. Otherwise, the dim shapes of the street's shops around them couldn't be more vague and unimportant. They stand just outside the door, away from the forming line. Small but apparently full of nutters. Bobbing glowsticks, funky coloured hair, as little material as the police will allow.

"I heard you were looking for a flat?" Oscar said. You could still hear the music inside. It thudded against the walls as though struggling to get free. It would breech everytime the door was opened. "I was hoping to share one, I don't really make enough to get a decent place on my own. I heard from Greg you'd been looking too."

Hazel blinked once, caught off guard. He certainly knew how to get to the point - she could respect that.

"Yeah, I guess I do need a roommate or something; I can't really afford the rent for one on my own."

She sat down on the curbside, encouraging Oscar to do the same.

"That being said though, we don't really know anything about each other, do we? Might be a good idea to see if we even could stand living together, before we make any promises." She paused, looking up at the night sky. She could hardly make out the stars through the haze of the cities lights.

"I guess I could start. My name's Hazel Lynn, 23. I work part time at a local bar and, as I guess you know, I play the violin on the side. That means that I'll have to practice, so if you don't like classical music things could get tense. I'm taking some online classes to finish up my schooling. Uh. . . let's see, I guess that's just about it. Unless you have any questions."

She scratched her head, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

Oscar plonks next to her, leaning on his bent legs.
"I am Oscar Makin-Killtire. I'm 22 and I'm a programmer for Black Rock Games. Their offices are near-by actually. I'm here working on a new Top Gear game and I kinda need a place to stay." He looks up into the dark, thinking about his life. His eyes squint with the effort.
"I was born in Leeds and moved to Brighton when I was about 5. Then I went to Uni, came back for the job and I'm looking to stay." He turns his face to her's.
"I don't mind the noise. I play an instrument too."

Hazel nodded as he spoke, trying to absorb as much as she could. She would probably forget most of it, since most of the time she was doing good to remember someone's name, but she could at least try. She blinked as he finished, suddenly interested.

"Oh really? What do you play?"

She made a mental note to ask him about his job later. She had never been very much into video games, but she did enjoy them in a casual fashion. She also didn't know how much programmers usually made. She hated to think of money as a factor for liking someone, but she needed to make sure that any potential roommate would be able to contribute towards the rent. Music though, music she could talk about forever. It truly was her passion in life.

His face said it all. This was his moment to impress her. You might see his chest puffing up in pride as he begins to speak.
"I play the keytar." He said, ever so proud of the electronic wedge that was so close to his heart. "Its a loyal ol' Yamaha that my Dad gave to me. He was in a Duran Duran tribute band. I remember that over one summer, he spent hours and hours trying to get that riff from Take On Me down. You know...er..." And so, he sang the short riff that made the song so recognisable.
"He spent ages trying to get that into his head. He then brought a newer one, giving me the one I got now. He said 'Here.' He said 'We'll make sure the bastards next door know we're fucking practising."
He slams his fingers into the air-keytar in his hand.
"I'm trying to learn 'I Don't Like Mondays' by the Boon Town Rats." He turns to Hazel next to him.
"You learning anything good at the moment?"

Hazel was a little taken aback by his announcement. There was nothing wrong with keytars, she actually thought that they had a very unique sound, she had just never met anyone who actually played one. She couldn't help giggling a bit when he began to sing. She couldn't help joining in though; she loved that song. Finished with that, she continued listening as he finished talking. She wasn't too familiar with the song he said he was learning, although she was fairly sure that she had heard it at some point.

"I'm not really learning too much right now; I've mainly been focusing on perfecting the songs that I already know. Most of what I play is more classic than pop though, so I'm not sure how familiar you would be with any of it. My favorite piece is the Brandenburg concerto number three in G major. I can play pop songs though. I'm pretty good at playing by ear. My teachers said that I had 'perfect pitch' or something like that." She shrugged.

"My Dad said I'm all right. He'll always be the piano-man. Actually that's a good one..." He crosses his legs.

"I kinda like War of the Worlds. Although, I've never heard of that..." He said. "And I can read sheet music but I did Computer Science instead. I was good at that. I kept bothering the teacher for more stuff to do after about five minutes. Everyone else was struggling with anything more advanced than 'Hello World'. Hmmm...I'll get my paper." He gets up.
"We can start looking."

Hazel just stared at him, slightly confused. She was beginning to discover that talking to this man was like thunder trying to speak with lightning. All she could do was try to keep up. Although she wasn't sure what War of the Worlds had to do with anything they had been talking about. She blinked as he suddenly stopped and stood up. She quickly searched her memory to try and recall the last thing he had said.

"For a flat?" she asked, feeling a little exhausted by her new companion. "It's a little late tonight though. If we wait for tomorrow's paper, we may get some new options."

She stood up nonetheless, feeling a little silly being the only one sitting down. Her legs had cramped up a little, so she stretched, groaning with pleasure as her muscles relaxed.

"I don't really want to go back in there though; its not really my scene. It's a bit too loud."

"Yeah? Well, lets snap up the deals while they're there. It's, what?" Oscar takes out his phone, pushing the screen to find the time. "12: 30-ish. Today's Friday Ad ought to be out in about ten minutes. If we get it now, we can get this all sorted tonight." He gestures vaguely in a general direction of a news agents.
"Shall we?"

Hazel shook her head, a wry smile on her face. He was tenacious to be sure. She could appreciate that in someone.

"Alright," she said with a small laugh. "Let's get going then. No time like the present, I guess."

She let Oscar lead the way, not sure if they would be walking or driving to their destination. She looked him over as they began to walk. He was unique, that was for sure. She wasn't sure yet if that was good or bad. She was sure of one thing: life would never be boring if she ended up moving in with Oscar. The thought made her smile a bit.

The little shop was just around the corner. A cross between a lantern and a piñata with a till. As per law is seems, the windows have to be covering in a thin - probably protective - layer of posters. Half of which detail the excitement and general happenings of the entertainment industry over the last fifteen years. Through the uncovered glass, light peeked through, it's layer of polished grime adding a slight tint to the light.

As you enter, thoughts of Aladdin's cave flood in with the amount of stuff that has been crammed into all available space in this little place. Chocolate shelves lined with every type you would usually go for, places neatly. Magazines in a spectrum of taste on the other side. From bottom to top: knitting, comics, gossip magazines, porn. At the end of the dingy shop, is a dead-eyed man with a days worth of stubble upon his cheek. His soul long since evaporated from long shifts, barely registers in front of his eyes.

They exits quickly with the free paper.
"Any thing you don't like in a flat?" Oscar said, checking the date then flicking through to the flat pages. "Like must allow pets or something."

Hazel stayed outside of the shop, a bit unnerved by the atmosphere of it. This wasn't a part of town that she was particularly familiar with and she wasn't sure she wanted to be. It certainly had it's own personality, there was no denying that. She moved toward Oscar as he came back out, looking over his shoulder at the personals.

"I don't mind anything really, so long as its clean and affordable. I guess I'd like the option to have pets, but its not a deal-breaker for me."

Her eyes scanned the paper, looking for anything that might meet their requirements. Most of them seemed to be out of her price range, even splitting it with Oscar.
"We need two beds, and one bath minimum," she said, mostly to herself. "Nice area and reasonable price."

She rubbed her temples. Looking for flats always gave her a headache.

"Ah right..." He traces his finger down the columns, scanning each and everyone. Of the twenty on offer, 6 were overpriced, 3 hadn't enough bedrooms, 5 weren't finished yet, 2 sounded like rats nests and 1 required you to be a couple.
"There's three. One on the seafront, one near Churchill Square and one on Edward Street."

He lowers to paper to fumble in his pocket for his phone. Whipping it out, he checks the time.
"All right...We're not going to be shown them at this time of night...err...How about I give you my number and I'll try and arrange a time to see these places?" He absent mindedly tapped at his phone as he spoke. "9 tomorrow sound good?"

"Let's make it eight. I've got classes in the afternoon. I want to make sure I'm not late." She gave him a smile and began fishing through her purse for a notepad.
"Here's my number. Give me a call or text and let me know when and where to meet first." She looked around, not too familiar with the area. "I guess we should go back to the club? My ride's there. At least, he better still be there."

Her mind was already racing thinking over their three choices. The first he mentioned sounded nice; she really wanted to be near the water. She couldn't deny the convenience of living right by the Square, though. She wasn't all that familiar with Edward St. so she would have to reserve judgement on that option.

Let's be perfectly honest; if he could, they'd be going in ten minutes with a wired estate agent cursing them both from behind his blood-shot eyes and badly styled hair. That didn't happen.

What happened instead was that he rung her up, meeting up with the greased back man in the suit and darker skin. He lets them into the sea-front flat, smiling faultlessly.
"This is a two bedroom flat with lax rules and a nice landlady I've been told. Its going cheep and has plenty of space to maybe start a"
As Oscar walked in, he looks straight at the estate agent, waving his hands dismissively to stop him suggesting that they bring a child into the world just because there's the possible space.
"Oh. Well, then it's roomy for entertaining."

Hazel wandered into the flat, eyeing up everything as she went. It was pretty roomy, but she was a bit suspicious of the price. She could always appreciate a good deal of course, but she wanted to make sure that there was nothing wrong with it to warrant the price.

On the surface though, everything seemed on the up and up.

"Is the land lady around? I would like to meet her. No sense in renting the flat if we don't get along with the land lady."

She looked over to Oscar, trying to gauge his reaction to the flat. True, they had two others to look at. She really hated flat hunting though, and she wanted to finish this up as soon as possible.