Mixed Up (ZoSan)

Four Kicks

While he was, for the most part, glad to have been invited out, he wasn't sure why exactly he'd thought the night would prove to be exciting. Rather, he found himself disappointed when it turned out that being a bodyguard, albeit a fake one, was actually a rather dull experience.

As far as Sanji could tell, there really wasn't a need for the bodyguard schtick. No one had approached Usopp in a manner that could even be considered threatening, rendering him and Zoro utterly useless. Not even the woman he'd met earlier had come around to harass them if she had, in fact, been the woman he'd been warned against. It was boring work, if he was honest. He hadn't even been allowed to tour the gallery after he'd come back from the restroom, which was another disappointment all on its own. Part of his excitement that came with being able to take part in Usopp's show was the thought of getting to enjoy the fine arts setting.

And though he knew it hadn't been, it felt like he'd been standing in place for hours. There was nothing for him to do besides stand around and try to look like he belonged, but, hell, there wasn't even a wall for him to lean against.

It wasn't so much that he was tired of having been standing in place for so long, (working at the Baratie had conditioned him to stay on his feet for long hours), so much that it was that he wasn't allowed to move around. He was restless and indescribably bored, crippling his motivation and desire to be there at all.

The crowd in the gallery wasn't even interesting, which may have been the worst part. He'd thought that, being artists and collectors, there would have been a few eccentrics in the group to rejuvenate his spirit, but there were none. Everyone was as bland and dull as the next. After a while, their faces morphed together into one large flesh-toned audience that rotated around and droned on unmercifully about paintings he couldn't see. It was beginning to make his head hurt.

Usopp himself even seemed disinterested, though it was hard to tell with his mask in place, but at least he got to speak with the people who asked about or wanted to buy his art, but damn did the man talk.

His stories had entertained Sanji at first, but before long he began to find the exaggerations that came with each piece to be annoying. They grew grander and taller with each passing patron who inquired about his work to the point where his stories were entirely unbelievable, and yet, the people he told them to continued to eat them up.

Glancing over at Zoro, positioned on the other side of Usopp, Sanji saw that the idiot punk was just as bored as he was. His gaze was dull and gone, and if it weren't for the fact that he occasionally sighed and shifted his weight around, Sanji would have thought he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open.

What Sanji really needed, he figured, was a cigarette. He'd been pining for one not long after they'd helped set up Usopp's gallery spaced, and hadn't yet gotten the chance to step away and have a smoke. To be able to do that, at least, would be a welcome break to the refined monotony he'd gotten involved with.

Discreetly, Sanji had tried to scout out a place where he could slip away to on his own, but being unfamiliar with the building, he'd been unable to ascertain where any side-exits were. Glancing to Zoro, he recognized that the man probably knew where he could go to smoke, though, he didn't necessarily want to talk with him; he was already strung-out and annoyed enough without having to deal with what would inevitably turn into an argument.

But his fingers kept twitching and fidgeting towards the pocket he kept his cigarettes in, enforcing his need and desire to step away for just a minute. Left with no other option, Sanji decided to cut his losses and try to get Zoro to offer him a way out.

With Usopp positioned between them, Sanji waited until a curious guest began to ask if they could negotiate a price on one of his pieces before he attempted anything. As Usopp stepped away to speak with the potential buyer, Sanji sighed, glared at Zoro, and then mustered up the last bit of courtesy he had to step in close and ask about an exit.