Folie a Deux (TinCan) - Completed

Chapter 7.4

"I heard from Sammy, you become an annoying idealistic person and don't care about people who try to defend you?"

"Hi too, Yates." Can snorted in annoyance at the first greeting he got from his best friend. Reynolds next to him just laughed.

"You're going to appear tonight?" Yates let Daniel, their regular bartender, brought a glass of scotch for him. Can grabbed it before Yates could touch the glass.

Pulling out his signature smirk and he replied, "Yes. But I need a few more glasses before that."

They were in a bar in the corner of London. The bar was not an old bar, it had only been around for 7 or 8 years, but for the last 5 years, it had been a base camp for street musicians and poetry lovers. It was located underground, there was a gloomy and damp impression on the walls of the building. You could hear the railroad tracks on the side of the building. The crowd that came was usually students who understood literature or just enjoyed it as a side thing on the sidelines in the major they were studying. Some teenage kids who could enter with their fake IDs and adults who had boring jobs looking for unusual entertainment without actually breaking the law, you know, the kind of prostitution or nightclub that sold illegal drugs. And well ... there were idealistic musicians who had no place to accommodate their artwork.

In the dim light of the incandescent lamps on the periphery and a large chandelier that with its grandeur seemed misplaced. The small stage was only 30 cm high and covered in a worn carpet that looked like it was bought secondhand by the bar owner. But here was the only place Can was brave enough to speak. The only place Can dared to call it home.

Home in the meaning that he could reveal what he held, revealing any works. Any thoughts. Sometimes he wrote down his words, sometimes he recited what other people had written. Tonight it looked like he would choose the second one.

He hadn't been here in a long time. But he just got the chance to cast the role he wanted and the deal of cut down or at least a postponement some works. Still in confirmation with the concerned parties. 'Be patient,' so said Mr. Brown. The one that he had just been praised this afternoon and Can promised that he would first mention in his victory speech if he won his nomination at the British Academy Television Award this year.

So, of course this was a night where he needed alcohol and screamed out loud. He called Yates, knowing he would need someone to make sure he got home safely.

"These lads get better after I never came, Dan," Daniel just smiled kindly and wiped the whiskey spill in front of Can's hand.

"Are you sure you can appear if you just start talking nonsense?" Yates was more or less concerned about Can's career because it was related to his future wife's career, gave off a worried tone.

"I'm just going to repeat someone else's sentence. It's been a long time since I presented Erykah Badu's work."

"Wuooooh ... You must be really pissed off if you put out the accent of a black lady on stage." Can didn't answer. Only blinking an eye while he forced Yates's hand to make their two small glasses meet and let out a clink of toast.

"Wish me luck," he said after a little away and began to approach the stage.

The MC that night with his R&B style introduced Can with his pen name, "We welcome together, JACOB GERSHON!" Some applause was quite boisterous because it seemed like they had heard the name before. Can smiled awkwardly and shyly despite the help of alcohol to increase his self-esteem.

"You guys heard this poem maybe a few years ago." A crew brought three sheets of A3 size cardboard which made the audience curious about the writing behind it. "You will find out in a while. This is Erykah Badu's work; Friends, Fans & Artist must meet." Can smiled, lowered a little black skullcap that hid most of his forehead, and fixed the position of his sunglasses. He took a deep breath and when he looked again at the crowd, his face no longer showed the persona of Candace Grant but Jacob Gershon.