When the Devil Cries (Arthur Morgan X Male OC)

5. A Man Like Me

From Arthur's POV

THE BASTILLE

Letting ourselves into the lazy saloon, Eddie and I made a beeline straight for the back as the same bartender greeted us, recognizing our faces while he cleaned the bar with a rag.

The saloon was still full of the same pretentious pricks from the last time I was here, and the further I made my way into the fancy building, the more their eyes seemed to be stuck on me and my sad attempt of putting together an outfit that was actually decent.

Heh, still looked better than them, though.

"Welcome back, Eddie!" The bartender exclaimed. "And you too, mister. What'll it be for you folks today?"

The pianist slid some money across the surface. "Two beers, please."

"Comin' right up." He reached under the bar and popped two caps off with a soft hiss, placing a pair of bottles in front of us as we enjoyed our drinks.

"Say, Mister Ryan," the man continued, "how's your work at the theater going?"

Eddie took a sip. "It's going well, thankfully. At the moment, I'm preparing for a show."

"That's good." The bartender tugged his head towards the saloon's piano. "Y'know, if you're ever lookin' for more work, our pianist's thinking of quittin' his job soon. He's planning to move out somewhere in the country. Wants a more...'laid-back' lifestyle, he said."

I let out a boisterous laugh at that. "Hah! Laid-back..."

Eddie considered the offer. "If I ever find the time to do it, I'd certainly love to play here. Lord knows I could use the money."

The bartender smiled. "Excellent. Well, I'll leave you boys to your drinks. Have a fine day now, y'hear?"

"Thanks, mister," Eddie replied. "You too."

Turning to face me now that the man was gone, the young musician took a breath and barely opened his mouth to say somethin' before someone else was calling out his name, interrupting us for a second time. Jesus. And people wondered why I weren't much of a social butterfly.

"Eddie Ryan?" A woman asked. "Mister Ryan, is that you, darling?"

Peeking behind the boy's figure to see who was talking to him, I spotted none other than Lillian Powell herself sitting in the same place as before, comfortable as always while makin' sure the rest of the saloon wasn't.

"Oh, Miss Powell," Eddie greeted, clearly not particularly pleased to see her. "Starting the day off with a drink, eh?"

She let out a puff of smoke from her mouth. "Indeed. Same as you, evidently." Lillian moved her gaze to me, her eyes narrowing. "And I see you brought the cowboy with you."

Eddie glanced at me. "Oh, him? He's just a friend of mine. We met recently."

"Is that so?" She said with an...almost jealous expression. "Are you planning on taking him to the gala later this week?"

The young man quirked a brow, turning to me. "I don't know. What do you think, Arthur? Would you like to come with me?"

Well, finding a way into that gala was certainly easier than I anticipated. I gave Eddie a nod.

"...Sure," I answered with a shrug. "Why not?"

Lillian took a drag, huffing out another cloud. Though I couldn't tell if the smoke comin' out of her nose was due to the cigarette or annoyance.

"I suppose I'll make an invitation for your friend, then. I look forward to seeing you there, Eddie. The gala will certainly be a night to remember with your piano-playing skills."