milliways_bar | (no subject)

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One minute Carl was tapping his foot and re-reading over Mark's music.

And the next-

The next he was sitting in his seat staring stupidly at the music.

"....What the HELL is this?" He picked at the papers, rifling through them. It was good, very very good-but at the same time it was...

A musical

And he hated musicals.

Grimacing, he goes to the bar-and orders a straight bottle of Jack Daniels. Now looking for someone in particular.

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"What do you mean, 'what's today'? It's Friday."

Carl blinks, "No it's Mon-"

Carl's eyes go very, very wide.

"....A spell?"

"You were obsessed with music and Broadway. You were going to put on a play with some kid named Mark Cohen and were holding auditions for roles in the play. You hired Satine for one of the roles. Remember?"

"...no." Carl looks vaguely disgusted with himself, "I 'member a kid-looked kinda scruffy. thought he was from our neck of the woods until-"

Well, then it all just becomes a blur.

"...A musical?" He raises a brow, "....Goddamnit...I hate musicals..."
He's looking at Jack wideeyed-terrified.

"Well, for a week, you didn't."

An eyebrow.

"....I need-a really-REALLY stiff drink."

He shakes his head. "That's your choice, Carl."

Carl looks lost for a moment, then back to Jack, "...a spell?"

There's belief in his voice for the first time in a while.

"...Did I-"

The question's there.

do anything stupid, make an ass of myself other then simply becoming an obsessive music fan?

"Yes."

Carl's head dropped.

"...I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Carl. Can I buy you that drink?"

"Yeah." Carl ran a hand over his brow, "...Then I think I'll go home, see Millie..."

God only knows what she thought of this.

There's something there that's gonna take time to heal, but suffice to say the Carl denham that was is changed.

But only slightly.

"That and he monkey. We gotta get back to work." he slapped his friend on the back-

But it was only halfhearted.

He sighs.

"I won't be helping you with Kong."

Carl's expression never changes, but he nods, "I know."

Suddenly eager to change the subject, he turns to something else, "Still think you're trapped here fella?"

"Kind of."

"Kind of?" Carl raises a brow and winces, setting the alcohol down, "...I have-god's own headache my friend..."

"You don't remember, but last week you let Satine and me out to visit New York."

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